Rizzoli & Isles, T, Romance, Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli
Written as a response to the prompt 'watching you sleep' in Fireworks 12: The [Totally Not] Annual femslash_today Porn Battle over at LJ.
Not porny at all, though... And strictly a one-shot!
Sundrenched world
If this were any other day, Maura would jerk straight up at the amount of sunlight she finds floating in through her bedroom window upon awakening. She rarely ever indulges in sleeping in that late, a quick glance towards her bedside clock confirming her suspicions about the time. Her left arm is pinned to the mattress by a weight she's not really used to yet, she knows it'll tingle and prickle relentlessly once released from its confines beneath the sleep-heavy body so close beside her, but she doesn't mind one bit. Her mind gains momentum and loses the fogginess of having just woken up almost too quickly as it automatically seems to adjust to the time of day and the usual alertness that comes with it.
So she lets it, yet just calmly stares out the window where through a crack between the curtain sheers she can see the almost overly bright sunlight flittering through the windswept, still light green leaves, one second blinding her, the next casting eerie shadows across the light hardwood floor of her bedroom. Shapes dance and flicker, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees so familiar, so much more than the steady breathing beside her, and the stillness that comes with an (not so very) early Sunday morning in her neighbourhood a contrast to her ever quickening heartbeat.
She doesn't dare look anywhere else. Doesn't dare turn her head just yet. Because by now she knows exactly what'll happen if she did. She'd get lost in the sight of Jane Rizzoli sleeping peacefully, in her bed, just almost in her arms, at least on her arm, she'd stare at the slightly parted lips imagining just how exactly they'd felt as they swept across her skin, how they'd roamed every inch of her body, how they'd drawn sounds from Maura's mouth she couldn't recall having made ever before, how soft they could be in some places and how firm and demanding, relentless in their pursuit of claiming her completely, fully, to the point of bliss almost, in others. She'd be taken right back to the moment when the very same sun had just gone down, when the ever darkening blue had drowned out the last of the rose shades across the sky and she'd known their night had only just begun, felt that something now shone brighter than any sun she knew of ever could, even when the first stars appeared and the crescent moon had cast its glow through the very same window. Which had actually been their reason to leave the curtain open. That beautiful night. And what a beautiful night.
Knowing she couldn't stand denying herself taking in the sight of what was right beside her now much longer, she slowly turns and finds herself staring at Jane just the way she'd suspected she would. Now that she really was right there, what use was there in not indulging anyway?