She should have kissed him.
It's all she can think of as she chats and smiles and teases over their celebratory of life dinner. She should have kissed him there in the vault, amidst the rumble and smoke and relief. She should have just grabbed his lapels and pulled him to her and fused their lips together. She should have just forgotten everything for a moment – their audience, her walls, his silent promise to wait for her. She should have just kissed him, because he was alive, because he earned it, because she loved him.
But she didn't.
She couldn't.
So she's here now, in his loft with his family, sharing a meal and sipping wine, laughing about silly things, trying to forget what happened today, instead of leading him to her bedroom, mapping his body with her hands and lips, telling him that she remembers, that she is sorry, that she loves him. But she is not ready for that, she knows it (but she can't help but long for it), not yet, so she jokes and teases and sasses, while her palm itches to at least hold his hand. To at least touch him. Just to show a little affection, a little affection above what she usually does. Just to express her feelings in a miniscule, inadequate way. Just to give him hope.
Just to feel his pulse beat steadily under her fingertips.
But she doesn't.
She places her hand on his shoulder and kisses his cheek when she leaves a little while later, slightly light-headed from the wine, her stomach pleasantly full, her spirits high. She draws the moment out, reluctant to move away from him. She rests her cheek against his for a fraction of a second (his skin is warm), and takes a deep breath, inhaling his scent (it is still masked by smoke).
She knows he notices. She feels his hand on her waist twitch, so ready to pull her against his chest.
To never let go of her again.
But in the end, neither of them dares to dive in.
She lowers herself back to the pads of her feet from standing on the tip of her toes (she loves that he is so tall), says thanks for the evening, and then the next moment she is out of the door.
She should have kissed him today, and yet she didn't.
But she will be ready, soon.