Author's Note – the Gumboot Mafia board ran a fiction competition with the prompt - Heat.
I was trying to edit an old piece to submit for it but this little oneShot popped up and demanded to be written, and while the connection is a little tenuous - as I only imply the cause - I like it more than the longer works I was trying to complete.
So here it is - for you all :P Enjoy...
Summary – She sleeps, his mind is far from calm. a random oneShot, stream of thought dealio... (implied M/W)
Curare
I'm not sure how we got here...
But I know I don't want to leave.
At least, not just yet.
I know I will have to soon enough but right now I'm surprisingly happy to lie here, with her in my arms, and not think about that moment - when she might have woken already - when I have to get up and walk out, back to my day job, back to hunting her down, for less pleasurable activities than ones we recently shared.
If she could hear these thoughts she'd probably laugh. Maybe she'd believe me - but I strongly doubt it.
Who would believe that I no longer want to see her dead, that I would prefer to curl up with her, hold her, maybe even love her...
I'm not even sure I believe it. Maybe my body is still responding to her, and my mind is slow to protect myself.
She shifts in my embrace and I'm torn between wanting her awake and hoping she'll stay sleeping, so that I can slip out without the 'morning after' talk and fight my way to a decision on my own.
The room is a mess - broken furniture and shredded clothing can only suggest the savage joining that happened last night. It cannot tell of the words we gasped or the things we did to each other, for each other. And I will not tell either.
Only two of us will know and I'm not certain that she will ever want to talk about it.
I'm not sure that the next time we meet I will come away without a world of pain - and I'm not quick to feel pain.
Suddenly I know - that I cannot be here when she wakes. And with a growing emptiness I ease myself away from the warmth of her body, so strong and yet so soft. I find my shoes, enough of my trousers to go outside in, and my coat - untouched by the devastation the rest has suffered.
I am pulling the door closed when I hear her move, just a little, as though she has stretched to find me in the bed.
"Ames?" she murmurs.
I fight not to look back.