She wakes up in his arms again, but this time everything's different. His chest is warm against her bare back, and she looks down to see his fingers interlaced with hers over her stomach. His breath is gentle on the top of her head, and their bodies fit together perfectly.
Her shirt is still on the floor from where she recklessly discarded it last night. Modesty has never been part of her life, but she had never been so blatant either, especially not with him. But his hand, the gentle pressure moving up and down her back, the shivers only obtained by tender human contact, were too good to pass up, and when she opened her eyes to tell him that, he froze, petrified, and she practically begged him to do it again. She almost wished she hadn't; he was much more careful once he knew she was awake and the affectionate, almost inappropriate caresses from before almost completely disappeared. He must have pulled her to him when she fell asleep. The sensation is so perfect she savors it for a moment before she yawns and stretches in his arms.
Her movement awakens him, and he freezes for a moment before realizing that she's not going to kill him. She feels his arms tighten around her, and he presses a kiss to her warm shoulder before burying his head in the crook of her neck. She shivers at the feel of his warm breath, and turns in his arms to face him.
He lifts his head to meet her gaze, faces inches apart, and her breath comes a little more sporadically. He smiles and greets her in their native language, and she returns the favor. She lays her head down again and absentmindedly runs her fingers down the planes of his chest, the muscles and valleys of his stomach until he shudders and something in his gaze makes her remove her hand. His gaze shifts lower, and suddenly she remembers just how naked she is, and hastily reaches for the covers to pull them back up over herself. He laughs softly.
"I never realized you were embarrassed to be seen naked."
She blushes when she replies, "with you it's different."
She doesn't want anybody else's hands on her; she doesn't want anybody else looking, even if it's awkward with him. She wouldn't have stripped with reckless abandon for anyone else, even though the two of them are just friends, and that invisible line between them was shattered last night.
She realizes with a jolt that it isn't attraction, it isn't lust or friendship, or anything else, it is love, pure and simple that draws her to him, and suddenly she drops the covers and wraps her arms around him, not missing the way his heartbeat speeds up at the feel of her bare chest against his. She nestles her face in his neck and breathes in deeply, relishing the smell of sweat and boy and desert, the smell of him, and she feels him weave a hand through her hair and inhale the scent of her as well.
He pulls her head back gently, looking confused.
"What is the matter?"
She laughs. "Today has brought many revelations."