Hello everyone!
This is just a little collection of *almost* drabbles to explore the love that Castle feels for Beckett.
Set somewhere post-season 5, probably a year-ish in the future.
Disclaimer: Castle and Beckett belong entirely to each other, I am just borrowing them for a little while.
"Love is the poetry of the senses."
- Honoré de Balzac
Sight
He loves that he is allowed to watch her now. Allowed to lean back in the chair that became his years ago and study every movement, every thought, every flicker of light that dances over her satin skin. Allowed to absorb her beauty, her wonder. Allowed to admire the determination with which she works, adore the sight of her - nose buried in a stack of paperwork and hands speckled with black ink. Allowed to write his very own map of Kate Beckett.
She still blushes; looks up at him with bashful smiles and cheeks awash with dusky pink, but she no longer shies away from his longing eyes, no longer fears the love that she finds within them.
And so, he cannot help but watch. Has to do so because he loves her, all of her, and he can never get enough.
Smell
He loves that he finds little pieces of her everywhere he goes; tiny glimpses into her life, her heart, delicate reminders that all of his dreams are coming true.
He doesn't notice until she's not there, until she is working late and he's alone in an apartment that feels all too empty without her bare feet padding through its rooms. An apartment that belongs to the both of them, books muddled on the shelves and cupboards that hold vanilla syrup for her coffee.
But he isn't alone, not really, not when every molecule of his life has absorbed the wonders of Kate Beckett. Black cherry shampoo and spiced perfume; warm and musky and filled with the magic of summer nights. And then something more, something clinging to his sheets and reverberating within his soul, a scent so entirely Kate that his heart feels almost too filled with love, ready to burst with the thrill of knowing every intimate detail that she holds.
Sound
He loves the quiet of the world late at night, those fleeting moments that are almost too beautiful to really exist at all. Loves them not for the peace, the calm, but for their ability to amplify all that she is; the magnificence of the woman whom he so desperately loves playing out within the darkness, an orchestra of a life lived together.
He always tries to fall asleep last, to stay awake just long enough for the world to disappear and for Kate to become the only thing that he knows. The steady beat of her heart drumming in time with his own; loud and certain and so very alive, and the funny little puffs of air that he never expects, murmurs of love and lands far away, mumbled words too etched in sleep to understand.
The secret hours of the night that are for lovers only, hidden from reality and filled with the very hopes and dreams of life.
Taste
He loves every inch of her body, lithe and pliable beneath his hands, open and unravelled under the weight of his touch. Cherishes the fervour with which she calls his name, uncontrolled and drowning in screams of passion, of lust. Longs for the moment after; for kisses that burn with love and laughter.
He is in awe of her; of every cell, every molecule, every rolling bead of sweat begging to caught by his tongue.
She tastes of life; startling flavours of everything that he has ever hoped for and of all that is yet to come their way. Toothpaste kisses as she runs out of the front door; rushing with the sudden realisation that she is late for work, but never leaving without first saying goodbye – quick kisses that are always a promise of more. And then later, when the world has been dissolved by roaming hands and the dark of night, the sharp sting of salted skin as she lays beneath him; breath catching as he nips the sensitive curve of her neck, nails scratching, begging for his kisses to soothe the bite of his love.
Touch
He loves how well she knows him; every intricate detail of his heart and mind somehow belonging to her, existing because of her. She is the first person in this entire world to truly understand him, to take the time to discover all that he is. And he is so very grateful for that, for the extraordinary love that has allowed them to become so much a part of each other that they would no longer survive without it.
She sees his mind as it whirls and spins and thrashes around imaginary worlds, knows that sometimes it becomes too much; too bright and filled with stories for him to bear, understands that he needs saving just as much as she does.
And all it takes is her touch; feather light and mercifully soft, gently guiding him back to the safety of the real world. Her hands, her lips, the ghost of her breath as plays with the hair at the back of his neck; every touch a beacon of hope, a beautiful promise that she will always be there to rescue him.
End.
I hope that you enjoyed my little story?
I know that there wasn't exactly a storyline as such, but I couldn't resist a little fluff on a Sunday afternoon :')
Thank you ever so much for reading,
Please leave a review - good or bad - if you have a moment to do so.
Katie xx
Twitter: katieupatree
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