Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
AN: A few weeks ago, I found this list online of the top ten words relating to love, desire, and relationships that have no real English translation. The idea fascinated me so much that I was inspired to write about them. This little collection will have ten stories, one for each word on the list, that are not connected or related in any way. Fair warning, there will be some angst. Regardless, I hope you enjoy them and thanks again for all the support and love.
The ghost of his mouth haunts her. The way his lips fit between hers, how his tongue felt tracing along the seam of her mouth. Her scalp still tingles with the scrape of his blunt nails, his hands tangled in her hair even as she spun away from him, her gun a suddenly too heavy weight in her numb fingers. She thinks about the hot press of his chest when he yanked her closer, the silk of his hair against her palm. Want flares in her chest when the look he gave her that night flickers across her mind; the need in his eyes, the way he let everything they'd both been trying so hard to ignore float right on the surface for the briefest of moments.
She wants him to look at her like that again. She wants to see the heat of desire in his eyes, not the soft look of patience and sorrow. Wants to feel his mouth, his hands, his body. Wants the heady rush of lust as he claims her, his lips open and wet, his hands bruising at her hips.
She wants to kiss him.
Again.
Desperately.
The whiskey burns through her chest as she watches him dance behind the bar, sleeves rolled up and a towel tossed over one shoulder. She can't stop the smile, uses the late hour and the two drinks she's consumed as an excuse to let it break free. To let the happiness he brings to her shine. Castle catches her eye from the other end of the bar and smiles, his forearms, burnished bronze in the dim light, flexing as he pulls a beer. The head shivers at the top of the glass when he places it on the tray next to the others. Nodding to the waitress who scoops it up, he makes his way back down to her end of the bar.
"You want another?" He taps a fingers on the glossy wood next to her half empty glass.
"Actually, I should head home." She knows he can hear the regret in her tone, doesn't bother to hide it. There's so much that she wants to give him and can't but this - this she can do. "Have that meeting with Gates in the morning."
"Okay." Castle pulls the towel off his shoulder, tossing it onto the bar mat. "Brian, I'm leaving. Need anything before I go?" The bartender shakes his head and Castle gives him a weird little salute before sliding through the gap in the bar. Rolling his sleeves down, he walks around to where she sits, grabbing his jacket off the unoccupied stool next to hers. "You ready?"
"What are you doing?"
"Taking you home. It's dangerous out there," he grins, sliding the jacket up over his shoulders.
"You remember that I'm a cop, right?" Kate slides off the stool, angling her body toward him as his hand hovers at the small of her back, ushering her toward the exit. She wants to lean into him. Wants to erase the eight inches between them and feel the heat of him pressed against her.
"I would never be able to forgive myself if I let you wander these treacherous streets all by your lonesome and something happened to you. Don't make me live with that kind of guilt, Beckett."
"I'm perfectly capable of making it home on my own. I have a gun. In fact, maybe I should be making sure you get home safely."
Castle pushes the door open with a flat palm and waves her through, his tone dipping into a well of earnest sincerity that makes her stomach flip, "Humor me, okay?"
Heaving out a put upon sigh, Kate mounts the narrow stairway ahead of him, clattering her way back up to street level. She waits for him at the top of the steps, pulling her jacket tighter as the wind whips around the corner of the building, sending her hair swirling. Emerging onto the sidewalk, Castle chuckles when he looks up from his buttons to find her spitting out the tangled ends of her hair. The wind is unrelenting and no matter how quickly she grabs at it, her hair flutters wildly around her head, lashing at her cheeks and sticking to her lips.
"Hang on," he murmurs, stepping closer.
She can't control her jump at the sudden sensation of his hands, still warm from the heat of the bar, brushing over her cheeks. Castle studiously ignores her shock and sets about gathering her hair in his hands, sweeping it off her face and pulling it back into a thick rope along her neck. His chest presses against her arm when he leans in, twisting the rope into a loose knot before tucking it into the collar of her jacket.
"There." He backs away. "That should help."
The look on his face steals her breath for a moment, warmth spilling out into her limbs when she meets his gaze. For the first time in months, she can see it. Can see everything that he's worked so hard to suppress. Want. Need. Lust. Love. It's all there, simmering in the heated pools of his eyes.
She wants to dive in.
When he looks at her like that, she wants to forget it all. All the reasons why she's waiting. Why she's asked him to wait with her. For her. She wants to stand on this street corner and declare herself whole, ready to start. Ready to finally give in to this thing that's been brewing between them for years.
Wordlessly, Castle reaches toward her and runs the back of one one finger gently over her cheek. She struggles to keep her eyes open, to stop herself from listing into his touch. The loose fabric of her slacks flaps around her legs and she shivers, tells herself that it's the wind and not the far too soft caress of his finger. Kate lets her eyes flick to his lips when he reaches the corner of her mouth, the sharp edge of his nail catching at the errant strand of hair still clinging on. The amber light from the street lamps plays over his face and she thinks she sees a hint of a smile as he tucks the hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing over the side of her neck.
Her entire body screams with the aching desire to throw herself into his arms. To run her fingers through his hair and feel the damp heat of his mouth. She craves the warmth of his body, the way he would engulf her, his broad chest and strong arms blocking out the rest of the world as he pinned her up against the cold brick wall. Her toes curl inside her shoes and she pushes up onto the balls of her feet, teetering on the edge, about to make the leap.
The raucous blast of a car alarm knocks her back, her bones shaking at the hard jolt of her heels striking the concrete. Castle jerks back, pulling his hand away and looking around with wide eyes. Her skin burns with the loss of his touch. She wants it back. Wants to rewind time and live in that moment. But the spell is broken, the jagged pieces rattling down the sidewalk, spirited away by the whistling wind.
Castle turns back to face her and she watches the shutters go back up, the fire in his eyes smothering under the heavy blanket of their reality. It's not time for this. She knows it. He knows it. But still her heart stumbles when he stuffs his balled fists into his pockets and jerks his head toward the street.
"Cab?"
Kate nods and he moves to the curb, pulling one hand out to flag down a passing taxi. She watches him, dragging her eyes over the set of his shoulders, the line of his back. Filling up the holes inside her chest with little bits of him. Allowing herself something, some little grain of hope, to get her through.
She wants to kiss him again.
She can't.
Not yet.
Mamihlapinatapei (Yagan, an indigenous language of Tierra del Fuego): The wordless yet meaningful look shared by two people who desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to start.