She was in a perpetual state of awaiting. She hated it. It was like she was always holding her breath, fantasizing about him crossing the threshold of every door of every room. His tired eyes. His weary smile.
Fire longed for Brigan, continuously in a way described only as all-encompassing. It was distracting and terrible and felt as though she was being stretched out, tighter and tighter like animal skin over the frame of a drum.
She whimpers in her sleep; loudly and often. She can't dream. She can't let something else occupy space in her mind, other than him. There is no distraction, and it drives her to the brink.
She may have loved him to the point of oblivion and back, but she couldn't help but be angry at him for taking up so much space in her mind. He was just there, she couldn't shake him off.
So she tosses and turns, trying to warm herself under her blankets, hiding from the frigid air of her room. And she waits for him. Every second, she waits; an arrow poised on a bow.
So in her dreamless state, her arms thrown up useless over her head, draped over her pillows, she jumps at the slightest noise, throwing herself upright to sense him.
And tonight, of all nights, she does. She was dreaming of him, for once, letting herself slip into the comfort of the sight of his smile, the sounds of his voice, glowing and brief. She did not let her mind slip into direct thoughts of him often, because that left her in the worst possible daze. It was a very unflattering thing, being hopelessly in love, a luxury she would only allow herself once in this lifetime. She sighs, being so deliriously intoxicated with Brigan; the idea, the concept, the person, the feeling; of Brigan.
And the sigh seems to come from the tip of her toes throughout her whole body, a musical exhalation of loss, longing, adoration, and desire.
But this time, he's here to hear it.
He leans in the door frame, watching her sleep for a few moments, catching his breath.
Brigan's lips twitch up in a bemused smirk; to see his love, tangled in blankets and writhing around, sighing.
Fire whimpers into the pillows, whispering that one name she can't say anymore without her heart flapping like a sparrow's wing.
And he's caught up in the sight of her until he snaps out of it, realizes he misses her just as much as she missed him.
And she wakes to the gentle warmth of his body laying itself against hers. He begins the process of saying hello; drawing her nightdress up, wrapping cold hands around warm, rounds thighs. She shivers, suspects her mischievous mind of playing a dirty trick, and lets her doubtful eyes flutter open.
She blinks a few times, cursing her sleepy brain for its cruel joke.
He kisses her nose, lips icy cold, and the whiskers covering his jaw scratch her lips.
As she sees him, really sees him.
He smiles down at her; light eyes sparkling.
She tangles her hands in his hair, pulling him down, letting herself be covered, surrounded, buried by him. She wants over stimulation and all the levels beyond "too much" he can offer. She wants all of him, because he's back, and now it's a realistic kind of want.
"Oh Fire," he breathes into her hair, the words tickling the skin they reach. Because she's sharing everything she wants with him.
He lowers his weight onto her, really settling between her legs, making her very cold and very warm at the same time.
He laughs at her shivering, softly, kissing her neck. "Love, are you cold?"
She wraps her arms around him, her soft lips pursed and her eyes closed. "Y-yes," she stutters out.
"I am as well. Freezing, actually." He shifts his hips up into hers. "Warm me up, love?"
"Yes." She grits out pulling her legs up and wrapping them tight around him. "Whatever you need. Just…"
Her voice falls away, and despite the pain she can't make this selfish, sad request. His eyes flicker darkly.
"Just what?" he urges softly.
"Nothing."
"No, it's never nothing," he pulls back, and smoothes her wild hair away from her eyes. "Tell me," he urges, with soft kisses along her cheeks.
"Stay…" she murmurs, even though she knows they can't have this fight now, and there's no way to continue from this point, and they've talked about it time and time again. But she has to say it.
He sighs, scrunching up his brow tiredly.
"Do you want to sleep?" she says, nervously looking over his face for signs of pain or fatigue.
"No, I want you…" he kisses under her ear. "And I want to stay, believe me, I do, as long as possible."
She's shivering and shaking underneath him and he feels every tremble. He chuckles. "Patience, love, soon enough…" he pulls her sleeping-shirt over her head.
He helps her with the complicated ties of his armor, and his shirt follows easily enough. Frantically she fumbles with his belt and trousers. He stills her hands, giving her a patient, knowing look.
"My bed is so cold." She says softly, lying back on the pillows, cocking her head and gazing up at him. Her eyes are clear and her face is neutral, even a little pleased. He smiles and runs his warm hands along her ribcage, burying his face in her breasts.
He runs his hands up and down her bare thighs quickly, bringing warmth back to her legs. He mumbles something into her soft skin, all she can hear is "…warm you up" and "so warm…" followed by a few expletives. She smiles, running her fingers through his hair.
"Love," she hisses, when his sweet mouth closes over her nipple, suckling gently. She feels warmth flood through her body. Cold was never there, cold never existed. Not with him walking this earth. "Please," she whimpers out, clearing her throat nervously.
"Soon, soon." He soothes, not even glancing up as his tongue moves over the little pink bud.
"I missed you so much," she points out.
How tortuous it is, finding solace in a body, in a person, that takes itself away from her so often.
His fingers ghost along her thigh and slip along her bare sex. He rubs the wetness he finds there between his fingers, smiling vaguely. She blushes and shuts her eyes.
"I can tell. I missed you too."
He eases his fingers in, and that is all that it takes for her to have all her body in the palm of his hand. He teases her with gentle little strokes along her inner walls, which clench and squeeze around him. She whimpers, biting her lip and shaking her head furiously.
"I'm going to…" her hips buck as she holds herself back.
"Then please, that's the intention."
"Not like this, I want you…" she blushes, pink that matches the highlights of her hair.
He smoothes a hand around the back of her head, holding her face to his. "Whatever you want, love."
He slides inside her, really fills her, more than he can possibly do in her mind. Her eyes clench shut and she cries out. He can't hold back and be gentle with her soft little body anymore; he's as desperate to return to her as she is to him. They're finally together.
He lets his full weight lay over her and draws her knees closer and closer to her, really pushing inside her harder and harder. Every thrust rocks her body higher up the bed. She holds tight to him with her legs, gripping fistfuls of his hair. He kisses her, tongue moving easily inside her mouth, warm and wet. Neither of them feels cold anymore. She likes the scratch of his stubble as he jaw moves across her cheek. He sucks on her earlobe. She whimpers a little as his thrusts grow rougher, losing the set rhythm and desperate to bring the two of them to completion. She can't hold back, it's been so long and she's missed it so much…
"I love you…" she murmurs softly, roughly, into his ear.
She reaches her finale. She gasps loudly and moans, gripping at his shoulders. She keeps shuddering underneath him as his movements get rougher. She bites her lip. Her revels in the sight of her face, her flushed cheeks and clouded green eyes. He gives her a full, overpowering kiss, and she hold tight to the back of his head and his jaw. She runs her fingers along her back, and clenches her muscles around him. He grunts, and finishes.
She pulls him on top of her, to lie his tired body down. He's completely spent, and panting against her neck, making her toes curl. He rolls off her and curls against her back. He wraps his arms tight around her.
"I missed you." she whispers, like there's a need to.
"I missed you too. Any marriage offers worth mentioning?"
"Hundreds. Millions. From dukes and lords and kings…"
He presses his forehead into her shoulder. "Oh dear. How can I compete?"
"It would help if you stuck around a little more…" and she's interrupted by his arms squeezing her waist tightly. She smiles faintly.
"Hanna misses you."
He sighs. "I miss her too."
"She's getting better at fighting off all those bullies."
He tries to hide a proud smile.
"She shouldn't give them a reason to fight…"
"She gives as much a reason as I to fight."
He strokes her hair gently. "Have there been any…?"
"No. people are getting more used to me, I suppose."
"I'm afraid I can't get used to…all of this."
She shakes her head. "I feel very objectified."
"You should, I'm allowed my vices, when you're in my bed."
She shifts closer to him. "As long as you objectify me in a loving manner."
"Trust me, I do."
"Good. I don't."
"No?"
She smirks, her eyes closed. "No, you're just an object to me. Just a nice body."
"Such a pity, you got me all emotionally involved and you're just using me for my body…"
He tickles her waist, and she giggles, kicking him.
He grimaces. "Your feet are freezing, love."
"Well, warm me up." she says airily. He holds himself over her, looking down at her wickedly. She raises her eyebrows at him, smirking. "You heard me."
"I did," he muses, considering her neck that she lifts her chin to expose to him. He kisses the underside of her jaw.
"I'm not getting any warmer," she says firmly, and he grins against her skin, and his hands and body and lips move over her once again, to warm her to the core. And she loves it, because she can't long for him when he's right there, as close as possible.