This is probably partly on the verge of an M-rating, and hopefully not too cringey...
…
He doesn't know what he's doing, or why he's doing it.
Scratch that, of course he knows. Bonnie Bennett turns him on in ways unimaginable and not even the screaming searing pain in his leg can keep him from giving in to the urge to kiss her, to let his hands roam over her body, exploring.
To his surprise, he soon feels her touch on him, too, a soft caress of his lower arm at first, innocent and strangely tender. Then, when his tongue begins dancing with hers, tasting salt, his teeth trapping her lips, she gets bolder, too, shoving a cold hand under his jacket, under his shirt, tearing at his clothes, and he feels himself drift off, letting passion wash him away…
He pulls her even closer, on top of him, playing with the buttons of her coat until she can shrug the garment off like a shroud, and still it's not enough. He needs to feel her, to see her, that beautiful skin of hers, those intense green eyes.
There's a hunger in her stare that makes his heart skip a beat, makes all his blood rush to just one place, and when she touches him there, almost possessively, almost tauntingly, he can't take it anymore, and whirls her around in a split second, until he is on top of her, Bonnie's hot breath grazing his throat, his lips, his cheeks as he looks down on her, ready to devour her whole.
Gosh, she is gorgeous.
He dips down, keeping his weight off her with one arm, a hand going where it's never been before, and the positively horny look she shoots at him when she grabs his arm and pushes him even further between her folds, he is sure he's going to come undone right there and then, but he doesn't care.
Holding his breath, he continues what he's doing, making her moan and bite her lower lip in a way that sends shivers down his spine. She begins to wiggle a bit under his touch, baring her throat to him, digging her heels into the cold floor underneath and he knows he's doing something right, making a smirk appear on his face.
"Come for me, Bonnie Bennett," he drawls against her mouth, staring at her, watching her, his hand writing his name between her legs as if he is marking her as his, and maybe he is. Because how could he not? He wants her. More than anything.
He wants her to be his.
…
She comes with a gasp and a long keening moan from somewhere deep within her, her legs shaking, and when the afterglow slowly begins to subside, she chuckles a bit in disbelief. Because did this really just happen?
When she looks up at him, she feels a light flush of embarrassment travel to her cheeks, but there's still that feeling deep within her that she has to satisfy first, the need for him to be inside of her, so she pushes the embarrassment away and just focuses on his dark gaze on her - so hot - and she tugs at him, fisting his shirt in one hand while busying herself with the buckle of his belt.
"I need you," she breathes, feeling his hardness under her touch, and she tugs at his unrelenting belt, growing slightly frustrated when she can't seem to figure it out, and he laughs at her briefly, such a beautiful sound, before he begins to do it himself, and she is so ready, she can't stop herself from pulling at his arms, needing his weight on her, needing-
A stifled yell escapes him as she rolls on top of him, landing awkwardly on his foot or leg or both, and pushing herself up a bit, she looks down into his contorted face, pain written all over where just seconds ago lust had been.
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!"
Scrambling to get to the side and off of him, she shoots him sheepish glances, noticing the way he clutches at his leg, unable to meet her gaze just yet.
Her hand hovers over his leg as she tries to gauge whether it's a good idea to touch him there, and all too quickly, the here and now has them back, the moment of bliss already fading to the background.
"I'm sorry," she repeats because she doesn't know what else to say and finally he looks at her, a lopsided smirk on his face that takes her by surprise.
"Not exactly how I had envisioned this would end," he says, his voice low and hoarse and too damn sexy for someone in pain whose bones she just wanted to jump moments ago - and still kind of does.
Pulling her hair behind the back of her neck, she makes a face at him, wagging an eyebrow.
"So you envisioned this - us?"
She wants to facepalm. Because clearly Bonnie Bennett is an idiot and can't focus on anything other than carnal desires, even now when her first sexual encounter in pretty much forever ended in pain for one party.
But Enzo is still smirking his cocky smirk, even though it's tinged with a barely controlled pain and she can see the strain behind it grow even as he wags his brows at her.
"I won't lie, love. You do things to me that I can no longer ignore…"
"Like, cockblock you by kicking your injured leg?"
He snorts, then nods, letting himself fall back onto the ground completely, an arm now resting over his face as his mouth turns into a pained line. The fact that he doesn't have another comeback tells her everything, and with a last sympathetic look at him and a soft touch to his shoulder, she gets up.
"I'll get the medical kit. Time to look at the damage you did by walking out there."
Peeking out from under his arm briefly, he gives her a wry look.
"If you don a cute little nurse outfit this might still turn into something enticing after all."
Bonnie scoffs, unable to keep from smiling. "Keep dreaming, loverboy," she tells him, shaking her head. But despite her offhanded tone, she is strangely relieved that he's in good spirits still, because at some point during the last few days she has really come to care for this man.
Even if part of her wants to shrug it all off, wants to celebrate the fact that he never got to… enter her body, she knows he's long since entered her mind, her heart, and denying it simply won't work anymore.
Closing her eyes, she waits for her fluttery heart to steady, then she makes her way to where she left the lichen and all the medical supplies nicely lined up on the kitchen counter. Giving herself a moment, she stares out the window, biting the inside of her cheek.
What the hell is she doing here? With him? Did she really just…
Hanging her head, she digs two fingers into the corners of her eyes, trying to stay focused on what really matters now, and that is taking care of Enzo's wounds because what she so conveniently forgot for a while is that he could still die, is still infected by the Rh'a venom. And getting too close to him won't do her any favors. It simply won't. So she better get a grip on herself and work on keeping her distance. Screw her developing feelings. It's early enough, right? She should be able to push them away or at the very least bury them deep inside where everything else that is too painful to deal with is already buried as well.
Placing both hands on the cool counter, she takes a deep breath, forcing herself to get on with things, cataloging her supplies.
She's running out of lichen to make new paste so she'll probably have to go out there again to get some more soon. Maybe in the morning…
Looking out again to shoot the large oaks a glare as if they can be blamed for any of it all, she takes a shocked step back, quickly ducking down and out of sight. Her heart I beating too fast, threatening to tear right through its cage in her chest.
There was movement out there, at the edges of the trees, dark shadows lingering, swaying a little. Maybe it's just the wind in the branches… But a feeling tells her that it's more.
"Bonnie, are you alright?"
She half whirls around in her crouched state, spotting Enzo holding himself up against the wall, in plain view of the window.
"Down!" she hisses, eyes wide with a new panic now, but thankfully he doesn't once doubt her sanity or question why the hell she would tell him that, but simply lets himself slide down onto the ground, his gaze never leaving hers.
"What's going on?" he mouths, tilting his head slightly to frown at her, and she shakes her head.
"I think someone's out there," she eventually makes herself whisper, jerking her chin in the direction of the large yard outside, her hands still clutching the edges of the counter. Should she risk another glance?
Out of the corner of her eye she notices Enzo start moving and quickly waves him off.
"No. You stay down."
"Bonnie…"
"I mean it." Her pointed stare makes him raise his hands away from his body in surrender before he clutches his leg again in a subconscious gesture, reminding her that they still have an issue to take care of in here too, before they can deal with whatever - or whoever - is out there. If there is anyone out there. "Let me…"
Lifting herself up a bit, she peeks over the counter and out the window again, squinting into the dark. Nothing but trees. She scoffs, relief washing over her.
"I think I'm just growing paranoid," she allows, grinning over at Enzo before grabbing the supplies. "But since I got you here- "
A loud bang against the windowpane makes her break off abruptly, and before she even has a chance to duck again, Enzo is somehow there, pulling her down with him until she comes to lie on top of him yet again, staring at him out of wide eyes as another bang, then another, then another shake the window until she is sure it will break.
But it doesn't.
Because of the spell she put around the house months ago, back when she still had access to her magic…
"Not so paranoid, methinks," Enzo drily states, and she presses her lips together briefly.
"Yuh. I think I'd have liked it better if I was…"
"I think I would like it better if you lying on top of me meant-"
Putting her index finger against his lips, she stops him, shaking her head as she scoffs.
"Really? When there's someone out there waiting to kill us or possibly do worse?"
Clicking his tongue, he smirks at her, the expression too disarming even now.
"What can I say? You do things to me, Bonnie Bennett."
"Oh ya? Well then better prepare yourself for what I'm gonna have to do to you now."
"Something tells me I'm not gonna like it."
Part of her wants to say something snippish in reply, but the sympathy wins over and she just sadly smiles at him before the expression fades off her face.
"Come on. Let's get this over with so we can make sure we're still safe in here. And see who is out there."
"I'm all yours."
Swallowing, she actively forces herself to not look at his face before she kneels down to push up his pant leg, making him tense up under her touch. The bandages are bloodsoaked, making her grimace because taking them off won't be particularly easy this way.
But he doesn't move a muscle, doesn't make one sound when she peels it away layer by layer, and when she looks at him, his expression is blank, detached, almost like he isn't completely there, in this moment.
And maybe he isn't.
Remembering his past, she is sure that someone like him probably found ways to survive immense pain, and this moment here, it's simply one among many… The realization sends a cold up the small of her back and to the base of her neck, lodging there.
"Almost done," she makes herself say, not expecting a reaction, and not getting one.
When she's done with part one, the extent of the damage reveals itself completely. Some of the gashes have opened up again, bone visible on the sole of his foot. But despite all that, despite the garish extent of the injuries, there are good news too, her breath hitching as she notices it, her eyes beginning to sting with tears.
"I hope you're not crying tears of joy over my impending death, love."
She chokes down a sob-laugh, looking up to grin at him before wiping at her cheeks. She should probably come up with a cheeky comeback, but… all she got is, "I'm not gonna allow you to die, Enzo St. John." Clearing her throat, she adds, "Seems like my lichen paste is really doing the trick. This looks much better than before, no black streaks from the Rh'a, no dead tissue."
"Technically, I'm nothing but dead tissue…"
Rolling her eyes, she waves him off.
"You're a funny one, Mister."
"I don't think I've been called funny before. I'll take it."
He leans forward a bit, inspecting his own leg, clenching his jaw as he does and she has to fight the sudden urge to push him back and tell him to focus on something else because she doesn't want him to be in pain, doesn't want him to have to see… But he's Enzo, he's seen worse, he's been through worse, and-
"Look at me instead, okay?" she blurts, cupping his face to make him turn his gaze upward, and he smiles a weak smile at her that doesn't last long enough. "I know it doesn't look like it, but it's really improved a lot from last time. And… no necrotic tissue is really good news. You're gonna live, Enzo, you're gonna live…"
She isn't even sure whether she is telling him that or herself, but she can't stop repeating it over and over, until his forehead comes to rest against hers, his arms snaking around her back, holding her close.
And for that moment, the world is on hold around them, and nothing matters, not the threat outside, not the fact that he is injured and she still has a nasty cold, or that they don't have anyone else anymore. It all doesn't matter.
Only they do.
…
…
Just a heads-up: I have to admit after I spent a long weekend in a cabin (anyone been to Yosemite? What a gorgeous place…) a serious lack of writing motivation struck, so not sure where this is headed and how soon updates will come as I'm trying to (hopefully) work my way out of it...
