so I came up with this while I was on a 9 hour bus journey listening to Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran, then wrote it in the cutest little coffee shop in a little town in Cornwall. It was time I just let my children have some fluff, so here it is. Short and sweet, no angst in sight.

The journey back to the apartment – their apartment, Jake reminds himself – is silent. They communicate in unspoken gestures: a hand on his, fingers through her hair, a head on his chest and the thud of a heartbeat. Jake can't count the times he's wished he could hear Amy's heartbeat in the last eight weeks. His hand tightens in her hair and she shifts on his chest. A hand runs down his arm and he's sighs. It's not contentment, though he's the most content he's ever been. It's homecoming.

Their first night together is not desperate or heated. It's hurting and healing, and relaxing in each other's presence. It's curling up on the sofa and putting on a Disney movie – Jake refuses Lion King stiffly, and Amy doesn't press. They settle on Beauty and the Beast in the end; the original, of course.

Jake makes himself small as he curls up into Amy's side, a familiar position reversed, and Amy traces comforting lines into Jake's side. It's not long before his breathing evens out, and he's completely out and snuffling softly by the time Belle and the Beast meet for their final dance. She leaves the movie playing and places a feather-light kiss on his forehead, allowing herself to drift off as the movie comes to a close.

Their first night together is not sexual, or fiery or intense. It's counting blessings, it's taking nothing for granted. Amy wakes up three hours later with a stiff neck and a Jake on her knee. She reaches out and threads a hand through his hair just to check it's really him, but when she feels the warmth radiating off of him she keeps his hand there, anchoring herself to him. She will keep him there, real and permanent, for as long as possible. She doesn't doubt that she's still dreaming.

Jake stirs as he feels a hand in his hair. He suddenly jolts awake, sat up and poised to throw a punch. His face softens when he sees Amy in the partially lit room.

"Ames?" he takes a couple of deep breaths and Amy softens.

"Jake, sorry I didn't mean to startle you," Amy backs off a little, giving him space, but he rests a hand on her arm to stop her.

"No, it's okay, I just…" he pauses, taking a breath to steady himself. "When you've been sharing a cell with a cannibal for eight weeks, waking up with a hand in your hair is a pretty terrifying occurrence."

Amy reaches out cautiously, threading her fingers through his.

"I needed to know I wasn't dreaming."

Jake presses a kiss to her temple and smiles softly.

"You're not dreaming," he whispers, almost inaudibly, and Amy wonders for a second who he is reassuring. She allows herself to melt into him, moulding herself into his side and settling there. It's a strange position, leaning against each other like pillars, but the more Amy thinks about it the more she feels like it suits them. Here they are, a mutual support system, slowly and softly healing, reconnecting.

The first night is not a scramble for closeness or physical intimacy. It's learning to love again, through hand-holding and forehead kisses and whispered affirmations. It's not messy or rushed or strained. It's taking all the time they need to heal and rest and regroup, it's reminding each other what it's like to be in the other's presence with no cameras or guards or restrictions. It's an abundance of familiar touches that represent a different 'I love you' that cannot be spoken. It's the emotional intimacy they've both been craving for months. It's being in each other's company with no time limit. They do not rush. They comfort each other and they take their time and they enjoy what is there in front of them

Finally, they have all the time in the world.

Comments are greatly appreciated, feel free to come scream with me about Jake and Amy or anything else on my tumblr hearteyes-peralta