She pushes me away slightly, half-assed. I can tell that her mind and her body are working on two different wavelengths at the moment. Her body is saying yes, oh how it is saying it too, but her brain, well I know that I've done an awful job at explaining my feelings. I'm not good with words. All I know is that Madge Undersee has found a way into every crevice of my brain and my heart. She has pervaded my every waking thought and sometimes she even finds a way into my dreams. Always with soft smiles and hands that heal, gentle ones that caress every inch of skin covering my body.

I tug on the bottom of her hair, marveling at the fact that I have yet to find a split end. We both take deep breaths, our chests rising and falling in unison. I lean down and kiss her collarbones.

I wish my lips that moved against her skin knew how to form words better suited for her. Ones that were better than, "I know about the morphling," followed by lips crushed against a surprised girl's open mouth. I trail my lips over her collarbone into the hollow of her throat, up to the edge chin. My lips stay there. I wish just kissing her was good enough, but I know she deserves more. She deserves my words, better than the words I can give her.

I whisper the words against her throat because I sure as hell know that if I'm looking into those baby blues that I'll chicken out and makeout with her instead. "You came out of nowhere." I take a deep breath, hot breath against her delicate skin that makes her "Just bright blue eyes and smart ass retorts and some of the prettiest dresses I'd ever seen in my entire life." With my lips against her throat I can feel every single time she swallows, with my chest against hers I can feel every deep breathe. "You wouldn't believe how angry I was when I find out about the morphling. To think-To think that you risked your life for me, for someone who'd treated you like dirt, it didn't sit well with me. And when things don't sit well with me well the default is anger. I walked around in this angry stupor, every thought revolved around you. How dare you. How you probably thought I owed you something. I was waiting for you to collect. You never came." She's still, no deep breathes, no ragged breathing either, so calm. "I'd see you in the square and I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. I wanted you to feel my stare. I wanted you to know I was watching. It took days until I realized what I was looking at. I noticed your hair," I tug on a strand for emphasis. "How when the light catches on it, it's just golden, this beautiful gold that kind of hurt my eyes in the best kind of way. I couldn't look away and I didn't want to either." I have to remind myself to breathe with Madge so close to me. "And then your eyes. God, your eyes are so fucking beautiful. I'd never noticed how observant you were, not until I was the one observing you. I love how they cling onto everything around you. You notice everything. I started wanting you to notice me. I started wondering if maybe you already had." I run a hand down the skirt of her dress, down to her knee and back up, underneath the skirt this time. Her breath catches. "I love these dresses, how they cling perfectly to your chest, but leave enough for my imagination and I've been imagining Madge. I noticed every curve of your legs, how they come up to your flared hips. I thanked God that you don't wear pants because the thought of your legs, every curve available for my eyes, to the eyes of others, well that doesn't sit so well with me." I let my hand trail back down her leg, over her the skirt of her dress and onto her cloth covered hip. "I want to kiss every inch of your body. I want to know it intimately in a way that no one else ever has or ever will. I want to know your every waking thought. I want the first thought on your mind when your eyes flutter open, the risen sun peeking in through your window and I want your final thought before you close your eyes to sleep. I want to be acquainted with every part of your heart. I want to find a way into it, claim it as mine. I want every part of you Madge because you're good, so good. I want to be good like you. I want to be your dream, your ideal partner." My mouth has moved down to her collarbones toward her chest, in the valley between her breasts, slightly to the left. I'm speaking directly to her heart.

Her breath is ragged by now, her chest rising and falling at an almost alarming rate. My words have done this to her. I feel her hands in my hair, moving down to my face. She lifts my face to hers, her soft pouty lips pressed against mine. Suddenly I'm so hot, my skin is burning hot. Madge must realize this because her small hands find the edge of my shirt, moving it up up up, until it is over my head, landing on the floor of her bedroom. My hands that were on her hips find their way back to her legs, moving up until her dress has been bunched over her hips and over her head and has accompanied my shirt on the floor. My pants find their new home as does every other fabric covering both of our bodies until we are left bare.

Even without any layers of clothes between us I don't feel close enough to her until her body is pressed against mine, my arms wrapped around her holding her, one hand threaded into her hair and the other on the small of her back, right before it curves into her ass.

Everything is happening so fast and not fast enough at the same time.

"I love you," I confess as I maneuver our bodies so that she's on her back. There's nothing I would like more than to see Madge moving above me, her thighs on either side of my body, but my back, well it ruins that fantasy.

She pauses, her body tensing all over. Her eyes bore into mine, her hands coming up to my face, forcing my gaze. I'm not murmuring into her skin anymore. I say it again so she knows I'm not scared. I mean it.

When she returns the sentiment I can hardly breathe. I ask her to say it again.

"I love you. I've always loved you even when it was unrequited."

I cover her face with kisses, pressed slowly, each with a purpose. I meant what I said about kissing every inch of her body. Her face seems like a good place to start.

I feel Madge's hand encircle me, her delicate hand leading me until I'm inches inside of her. I've never done this before. She kisses away my worries, a kiss placed strategically between my furrowed brows.

"Are you-?" I ask my breath hitching because even being an inch buried into her is teetering on too much for me.

She nods. "But I've read romance novels a-and," she blushes, without clothes I can see how it edges down her chest. Gorgeous. "You should go slow."

I press into her gradually pressing myself into her until our hips are pressed against each other. Now I really need to remind myself to breathe. It's a lot harder now than before though. Madge must be having the same problem because I can hear her coaching herself to take deep breathes. Her hips press against mine again and again until I realize that she's the one doing it, moving her hips, begging for friction.

With a deep breathe I grant her request, sliding out of her inch by inch until I'm almost out and then moving back inside of her.

I knew it would feel good, but this is indescribable.

I press a hard kiss to her lips, teeth clinking and more passion than anything I thought possible.

My arm finds its way around her, pressing her against me as if I could absorb her into my self. That's how close I want her to be. I want to carry her with me everywhere I go. I want the same for her. I want to be a part of her, every part of her.

Buried inside of her, that almost feels possible. We're connected. Literally and figuratively.

I don't know how I'm doing it, but I'm moving so slow, grinding my hips against her at the slowest pace possible. This seems to be working for Madge because her nails are digging into my arms and her cries are the sweetest music imaginable. I promise her that even her piano couldn't play a better symphony. My face is buried in her hair, she smells like sunshine. I get one more rock of my hips against hers and I am finished. I don't pull out and she doesn't make any indication that she wants me to either. My arm is still wrapped around her, pressing her against me and my face is still buried in her hair.

We stay like that until we eventually fall asleep.

In the morning when I dress for work, I don't bother waking her. She looks like an angel, her hair fanning out against pristine white sheet.

I leave her a note, tucking it underneath a book left on her nightstand. I can only imagine what her first thought of the day will be, but I'm hoping it belongs to me and our first night of many spent together.