Coffee Contemplations
Clink, clink clink, clink.
Clink, clink clink, clink.
Her nails drummed along the porcelain. That high pitched beat, impatient and yet even, unhurriedly clicking in rhythmic succession.
Her heart beat a similar tune.
Thumping against the walls of her chest, pumping the blood through her tingly, anxious body as she sat crossed legged on the bed.
Her palm pressed softly into her coffee mug, his sitting on the bedside table, its aroma dancing with hers, drifting in and out of her senses. Mixing with his scent, taste and embracing her heart, which thrummed relaxed and coincided to the steady breaths that she sat here watching.
The autumn morning light peeked in through the curtains, that luminescent glow slowly creeping over his bare back, threatening to spill over, and wash over her knees. She sighed, shoulders shrugging as she had enough time with her thoughts. Or at least she had thought. But the coffee still sat hot in her hand. The taste still lingering on her tongue. The steam licking at the inside of her nose, enticing her.
Bringing it up to her lips, the rim wet from the steam, she tipped it back just a little, her eyes staying on the sleeping writer. Hearing his small intake of breath has he turned over, that whoosh of air through his nose filtering in over the rush of hot coffee as it slid over her tongue.
She swallowed just as he settled, seeing the flutter of his eyelids, and her heart skipped a beat, the coffee stilling in her hand before she let out her own breath, and rested the cup on her feet.
Kate could feel the heat of him, so close beside him pressed into the sheets. His body heavy and relaxed, bathing in his own body heat. She wanted to fall into those depths with him. But he seemed so peaceful, the lines of his face smoothed out in sleep.
But instead of lifting up the covers, and crawling inside to curl up against him, Kate shuffled out of bed. She slid to the floor, holding her coffee cup in both hands as her eyes watched the liquid slosh at the sides. She's careful when she lands, letting out a soft sound in relief, and drinks from the cup, feeling her shirt slip back over her backside when she pushed off from the bed.
Her toes curl on the wood floor, chilled, and she shivered, shoulders reaching her ears, and grasped the hot cup closer before padding out of the room. Kate stopped by the door, looking back, seeing the steam from his cup still rising slowly in wisps. A smile spread across her face at the sight of him, already rolling over and looking for her in his slumber.
He's not going to find her there of course. Just the indent of her warm body as she had waited. He'll have to go to her. Seek her out like he does in the night, like she does in the early morning. Hands roaming, fingers pressing, sliding and pulling each other in.
She let out a sigh, and left the room, finding the loft in a peaceful hush. The only sounds she heard was her own heartbeat, and the city outside his windows.
And just like before, Kate found herself in his kitchen, pulling out a stool and hoisting herself onto it, her cup clicking and scraping along the countertop as she adjusted herself, and pulled it towards her. Settling in a space she'd always dreamed of being in... like this, but never actually had the confidence to believe she would.
Clink, clink clink, clink.
Clink, clink clink, clink.
Curling fingers find their way into her hair, sifting in her soft morning waves, and palm cupping at her warm, awakening skin of her cheek.
She puckers her lips, dragging her tongue from one end to the other, lifting her coffee to them and drinking before she does it again, and blows a raspberry. The vibration echoes off her lips, into the quiet, empty loft.
Her mouth kinks to one side, teeth biting at the inside of her cheek, fingers still tap tapping at her coffee mug...eyes flick towards his door, the one she left open, resisted sliding across the floor in hopes of not spilling her coffee all over her naked legs and feet.
But she wanted to do it again...without having to escape. Get the hell out of there so no one would know. She'd like to wake up in his bed more often...every day...in this loft.
Her eyes grow wide.
Did she really just wish she lived in Richard Castle's loft?
Could she...?
Is it too soon?
No...Her heart flutters with the idea, and she smiles into her coffee.
Kate takes another gulp, both hands on either side of it now, and lets it thump back on the counter. Her eyes look around her, fingers feeding through her hair absently as she contemplates.
Where would she put her stuff?
Clink, clink clink, clink.
She guesses she doesn't need all of it. But she'd like to keep her windy painting...
Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap.
Put her other stuff in storage...make room in his closet for all her shoes...her coats...
Tap tap...Kate brings her cup once again to her lips, tipping it all the way back and frowning as she barely gets a drop.
"What are you doing?"
Kate jumps, nearly dropping her empty cup on the kitchen counter, and lowers it, turning to see Castle rubbing his eyes in his bedroom doorway.
She sets the cup down, and slides from the stool. "Contemplating where to put my stuff."
