Author's note: I can't believe how soon it is until Restore Me comes out! I don't have many of my 2015 fics left to post, but maybe the new book will bring me some more ideas
My face sits heavily in my hands as I stifle another yawn, I bring my head up, staring at the glint of soft silver moonlight coming in through the window at the other end of the office. I don't even want to look at the clock. Since the start of this week I've barely had a moment to breathe. On top of my regular duties, the reconstruction of sector 45 had officially begun. Compounds were being demolished and new houses were being built and safe living arrangements for the civilians were being organized and I'm honestly surprised that I've not drowned in paperwork. I am currently up to my strained, bloodshot eyeballs in planning permission documents which I need to sign and send back before noon tomorrow, I have reports that need writing on which areas of the sector have begun reconstructing this week, and I haven't even made an attempt at the construction schedules that need to be drawn up and sent out.
Funnily enough this has been the most relaxed night all week. Monday I didn't leave the office until well after ten pm and last night I fell asleep at my desk, waking up this morning with no recollection of how I got into bed. I risk a glance in the clock's direction, feeling a wave of relief wash through me when I see that it's only eight and I'm almost done for the day. I look down at my desk and attempt to organize my thoughts, hoping that my brain hasn't completely given up and liquidized inside my skull. I move a large stack of paper to the side of my desk, the files that need to be sent out tomorrow. I fill the typewriter with paper ready to make a start on the reports tomorrow morning, and place the smaller pile of planning permission slips I still need to go through in front of me, intending to get them over with within the hour. I pick up one, ready to make a start, but the sound of the door opening behind me grasps my attention.
Warner stands in the doorway, and suddenly all thoughts on planning permission go flying out of the window, swept off by his presence to go and dance in the moonlight. The two of us had divided the new influx of work, I took care of the details involving construction and planning and he took care of the civilians. So while I was sat amongst my paper mountains he was spending a significant amount of time off base, making sure the civilians were being fed and sheltered adequately whilst the compounds were being demolished, on top of his regular duties. This is the first time I've laid eyes on him in hours. I give him a broad smile, drinking in his perfect features as the door closes behind him.
"Are you done for the day?" I ask, sure that there's an underlying tone of disbelief in my voice. I can see the relief on his face, the slight twitching of his lips into a smile which indicates the ending of a hard day's work. Somehow he doesn't look tired, there isn't even a hint of weariness clouding his eyes or lining his face, whereas I've been finding it hard to concentrate. Although as the seconds tick past that seems to be less and less to do with the paperwork stacked in front of me.
"Yes," I hear in response as he slowly strides over to the side of my desk. "How much longer will you be working?" he asks as he leans down and rests both hands on the edge. I swallow the sudden urge to reach out and touch one of them.
"Not for much longer, I've decided to save some of this for tomorrow," I explain, motioning to the various stacks of paper set atop my desk like skyscrapers scattered throughout a city. The beginning of a smile breaks on his face. I look up and meet his eyes. Something about the way they were anchored on my face caused a strange feeling to start humming in my chest.
"Good. You shouldn't be exhausting yourself," Says Warner, his voice softening for a moment before slowly brimming with amusement. "I do not wish for you to fall asleep in here and me have to carry you to bed again," he finishes with an infectious smile.
"That won't be necessary tonight, I promise," I laugh, my eyes still magnetically drawn to his face. I wonder then when it was that I actually saw him last, I know he spent some time this afternoon on base but that was during the time I was conducting meetings in another room, we had seen each other in passing around the building but we hadn't spent any time alone together or had a conversation since this morning. It felt like much longer.
"So how was your day, love?" asks Warner.
"All I can say is that while I'm so excited about everything finally taking off, I can't wait for this week to be over," I explain, almost groaning with tiredness, resting my chin on my hands. Warner flashes me a smile, the kind that usually indicates I've said something rather amusing.
"Next week will be exactly the same," he says, seemingly entertained by my assumption that things would all calm down by the end of the week. I sigh, hoping we're not working late nights for much longer.
"Well, the time when this all slows down can't come soon enough," I reply, rubbing my hands over my face before turning my attention back to him. "What about you, how was your day?"
"Busy," he laughs, "I'd visited four different civilian shelters by lunch, and I'm pretty sure the men weren't terribly pleased with the time of the routine check that I have only just finished." I smile, conjuring the mental image of disgruntled soldiers mumbling complaints to each other.
"At least you're done, I still have a little left to do," I grumble, letting my eyes fall back to the piles of reports staring me in the face.
"Well then I shall leave you alone," Warner explains as he rises from the desk, walking around the side to stand behind the back of my chair, his hands closing over my shoulders. I suck in a sharp breath as warmth bursts in my chest, realizing just then how much I'd been wanting him to touch me. His hands were warm against me, and I fought to contain a shudder when one of his fingers brushed the sliver of skin that the neckline of my shirt left exposed.
"I'm going to change and then head down to the training room for an hour," He informs me, slowly sliding his hands further down until they rest at the top of my arms. I fight the tingling that envelops my arms wherever he touches, squashing the shiver that's working its way down my spine by turning my head to face him.
"Okay, I should be done by the time you get back," I explain, hoping the tone of my voice didn't expose how much I was enjoying his touch.
"Good," he replies, his voice seeming to drop a note. His eyes flick down to my face, lingering there for a second before pulling away, not giving me enough time to meet his gaze. He gently squeezes my arms before letting go completely and heading towards the door that leads to our bedroom. I stare at the space, watching Warner's movements before he disappears behind the door completely.
After a few seconds my brain registers that I am now staring at a blank space. I avert my attention, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjust to the chance of scenery. My arms feel almost cold where Warner's hands were, and I almost audibly groaned in disappointment when he lifted them off of me. I shake my head, wondering why just the slightest touch was affecting me this much tonight. I look down at the next piece of paper requiring my attention, attempting to channel my thoughts towards work rather than the memory of Warner's fingertips against my skin. I sign the document in all the right places, dropping it on top of the completed pile and readying myself for another one when the door leading to the bedroom opens.
Warner emerges from behind the door, now wearing a t shirt and sweatpants. I completely forget the piece of paper in my hands as he moves over to me, my eyes locked on him. I watch him stop right in front of me before bending down slightly until our faces are level, leaning in closer so his lips almost touch my face. I suddenly feel very warm.
"I'll see you soon," he whispers softly, brushing a kiss against my cheek. His lips feel like electricity, Goosebumps form on my arms and a tingle sparks its way down my spine. I watch him move over to the elevator, unable to pry my eyes away. He presses the button on the wall and turns to face me. His gaze meets mine and my clothes suddenly feel very uncomfortable, itchy and heavy against my skin.
"Have fun, love," he grins before stepping into the elevator. I shoot him a warning look as the doors close, watching him disappear from view.
I slowly manage to get back to work, realizing just how much he was distracting me. There is an initial emptiness in the room now that Warner is no longer here, the ghosts of his lips against my skin and his voice in the air, but I ignore it and press on with the pile of papers in front of me, making swift progress at making the to do pile smaller and the done pile bigger. A sense of accomplishment floods through my system when the pile is finally eradicated, and with a high sense of relief I pick myself up out of my desk chair and leave the office at eight forty. The most accurate way to describe how I feel right now would be to say that my body feels like one long sigh. Loose, light, letting go of the concentration and override of work that had been clouding my brain as I stretch, my muscles aching from sitting in my chair all day.
I kick off my shoes and throw myself onto the bed, reveling in the cushioning softness of the mattress against my body, burying my face in the mountain of pillows that surrounds my head. Every ache and strain in my body seems to melt away, every tired muscle in my face relaxes, every thought, every breath no longer ruled by a fierce concentration. I feel like in this moment I could fall asleep in seconds, just float away from consciousness, but then I realize that I don't want to.
No, I will wait until Warner finishes up in the training room and we've spent some time together before even considering falling asleep. I've missed spending time in his presence, just his presence, where we can relax completely together. I turn myself over onto my back, stretching out my aching form once more. Wondering what to do with myself until Warner got back I sit up, intending to make myself comfortable while I wait.
Peeling my socks from my feet, I slide off the bed and make my way over to the bathroom. Once there I brush my teeth and splash my face with water, hoping to refresh myself a little. After dabbing my face with a towel I leave the bathroom and regain my place on the bed. I think about taking my pants off, but as my fingers move towards the buttons I think of a different pair of hands I would much prefer to carry out the task. I'm met then with a surge of heat settling low in my stomach and a sudden impatience for Warner to come back up here. I realize now why his touch was affecting me so strongly back in the office, and I know exactly how I want to spend our time together when he comes back. Swallowing down that urge I decide to busy myself for the remainder of my time alone. I pick up the book resting on my nightstand, pull the small ribbon used as a place marker and dive back into the story.
The time seems to fly by quicker as my eyes skim over the words on the page in front of me, focusing on the pictures of distant worlds that they create. The only thing that manages to pull me from my book is the sound of the door opening behind me. My book goes back on the nightstand as anticipation begins to pool in my stomach. I sit up.
"You're back," I say to Warner as he stands by the door, his t shirt clinging to his chest and a thin layer of sweat spread across his forehead. I'm suddenly consumed by how much I want that shirt off.
"I am," he confirms, taking two more steps into the room. I practically jump off the bed and make my way over to him. Standing only a few centimeters from each other, I can already feel my hands twitching to pull him against me.
"I was just about to go and shower if y-" he begins to say, but I cut him off when I bridge the gap between us and knot the hem of his shirt in my fists.
"No," I state, gripping his shirt tighter in my hands. "No you're not." He looks down at me curiously, studying my face to find an answer to what I'm doing. My teeth snare my bottom lip between them as I watch realization slowly darken his eyes.
"We've barely seen each other in days," I begin, slowly pushing his shirt up over his torso. I step even closer, crushing the space between us until my stomach rests against his. The contact sends a jolt of heat through me, my pulse racing.
"The shower can wait." I whisper breathily, my mouth just above the space where his neck meets his shoulder, hearing him suck in a sharp breath. The heat of his sides beneath my hands and the brief sensation of his bare stomach against my clothed one isn't enough, I can already feel the tension building at my center, the blood running hot through my veins. I swallow, milliseconds feel like minutes as I wait for him to close the space between us completely and crush his lips to mine.
I am rewarded when he takes his shirt from my hands, pulling it swiftly over his head and tossing it to the floor before capturing my lips. Our mouths move together fervently, greedily, like waves crashing violently against a rocky shore as days worth of longing bursts to the surface. Warner lifts me up, crushing my body against him as my legs wind around his waist. His hands grip my thighs and mine rake through his hair as he starts to carry me over to the bed. My blood is on fire, my nerves are electric and my brain is quickly turning to mush as his teeth graze my lip and his tongue brushes against mine. We cling to each other desperately, like either of us could turn to dust if we ever let go.
I'm deposited gently against the mattress, pulling him closer as he hovers over me. His lips find my neck and his hands find the hem of my shirt and start pushing it up my stomach. I lift myself up onto my elbows, quickly snatching the hem from his hands and pulling my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. My bra is unclasped before I fall back against the soft covers. His lips feel like heaven against my neck, eliciting soft gasps as they leave trails of fire across my skin. Shivers slip down my arms as the straps of my bra are pulled over them. Every hair stands up, every cell ignites as his fingers lick their way down, slowly, torturously, until I can take it no longer and throw the thing on the floor.
The feeling of his chest against me is unbearable. Soft, warm, close in a way that that we haven't been in days. I can feel myself start to drown in him, frantically pulling him closer until there's no space left to breathe, knowing that it will never be enough. I can feel his heart beating rapidly, threatening to burst free with every heavy breath. Mine isn't far behind, and I can feel my blood sizzling, jumping through my veins like electricity. My brain doesn't exist, instead it's been replaced with a raging fire that can concentrate on nothing but the intoxicating sensation of his lips making their way down my neck, collarbone, chest. I'm no longer in control of my mouth, almost oblivious to the sounds that are escaping from my lips and my hands can only grasp, gripping desperately at any and every inch of skin within my reach. Soon I can't take it anymore and hastily start removing pieces of clothing until there's nothing left. I think again how long it's been, how much I ached for this closeness and now I have it I don't think I will ever get enough. Which works fine, because in this moment, locked in a tight embrace and lost in the blissful touch of our skin, all we have is time.