Paying Debts
Chapter Three: The Kiss
She felt embarrassed with the heat of her body, the high temperature of her brow and the way he stood so close to her, and yet not close enough. While he focused on his hand upon her shoulder, she snuck a sidelong glance and gulped down the sticky lump in her throat. Water, she needed water. She was hungry, she was exhausted - she wasn't sure what to do.
Piper could feel the hesitation, the physical and mental block between them that scolded her and said they should go no further - for there was nothing here to continue, and nothing to start. Contrary to the open hangar and the wind that blew past the Condor, Aerrow's touch was pleasantly warm. The minute sensation of each bead of sweat as it made contact with the chilled air made goosebumps on her flesh, and she arched her spine ever so slightly as the dampness of her shirt clung to her lower back.
And when she did that, he moved closer. Maybe it was his way to protect her from the elements, or something else altogether, but the empty space between their bodies was squeezed out of existence as he placed his other hand on her other shoulder. Now, they were trapped.
He didn't say anything, didn't trust himself with words as his fingers curled and Aerrow moved his hand down her arm. Piper always wore sleeveless tunics, it was part of her preferred wardrobe, and it showed off the darkness of her arms. Every inch he slid, droplets of perspiration gathered under his palm and broke against his fingers; they rolled down the inside part of her elbow before the heat evaporated them. He could feel the soft flesh and the muscle, the fine hairs of her skin and how they bent awkwardly under his touch.
They rotated inwards towards each other, slowly and unsure, but moving nonetheless. And when they turned enough so her hands clutched at his towel to create another barrier between them, Aerrow finally removed his gaze from his hand and focused on her face, still speechless.
It wouldn't hurt, she knew it wouldn't hurt. Fingers tightened their hold around the textured cloth and all she could focus on was the shape of his chin, the parting of his lips. Her insides felt strange, like someone dropped a bucket of ice cubes into her stomach, and yet the rest of her body was switched onto red alert. She could feel Mercury rising on the thermometer. Climbing on her tiptoes to meet the tilt of his head, Piper's breath melted away until she was sure there was no breath left in her body, and brought her chapped lips together.
There was the gradual slant of his head as he leaned towards her, the darkness that shadowed his eyes – if they met – when they met, what would it mean to him? And where would they go?
