Chapter rating: M
Mid-Fall, Year One
There's no John for a long time. Weeks pass and she feels her anger ebb into just missing him, and then guilt too. She hates guilt. It curls back into rage.
When she starts waiting for him for lunch again, she's not surprised when he's not there, day after day the way she hasn't been. So she tries him room one night, and nothing, no answer.
She tries during the day. Zilch, nada.
Another week passes, and she just doesn't care anymore. Sure, she shouldn't have said what she said but she doesn't deserve this either, and frankly, Bobby called her withdrawn the other day and Kitty agreed, so she's pretty sure her social life can't keep this fight between them up anymore.
She goes at his doorknob with a lock pick, doesn't care what she finds on the other side, wouldn't half mind it if he blew up at her for the invasion of privacy. The pieces slip in her hands a bit, the movements aren't really natural anymore, but her body remembers the steps after a few tries, and the lock gives.
The emptiness is like a chill that runs from deep inside her out through her pores.
She considers it for a while, and she gets pissed again, and then she gets serious and kind of sad, because she gets what running off means, has done it enough times herself, and realizes that when she started this fight she pushed him away from the only friend he has here.
She wants to crawl into his bed and wait for him, but it feels wrong. It is for a number of reasons, including that it's just insane, but she does it anyway.
She's almost surprised when he wakes her up at 4 in the morning. He smells like cigarette smoke and cheap beer. When her eyes focus, she realizes he looks like it too.
"What're you doing?" He seems angry, and that's good because she's still angry.
Except she's deflating at the sight of him. Her mouth just gapes.
He sighs, and she realizes that he's deflating too, thank god. "Move aside. I've had a long night."
And she's scooching over before she's thought it through, and he's there all the sudden, and his body is warm against the nip of the winter night seeping through the walls, and another smell joins in now that he's so close, something just John. Her nose is almost touching the nape of his neck in these close quarters, and before she can process what's happening, the warmth and smell of him lull her back to sleep.
It would have been so easy, and in her dreams, it is. She kisses his neck, and he kisses her mouth. They are soft, teasing kisses. He sucks softly on her bottom lip, kisses her with tongue, lets his hands wander up and down her sides, cup her breasts, stroke her nipples enough that they peak, and she feels the warmth puddle between her legs.
Her own hands try to undress him, lift his shirt up as high as it will go without his cooperation, traces the lines of the muscles of his chest, his abs, unbuttons and unzips his jeans to push them down a little, to trace his hip bone. She pauses when she feels the downy hair that trails down, wants to follow it.
He repositions them so that he's on top of her, so that she can feel him right where she needs him through the soft fabric. He's hard and she's wanting.
She's getting lost in those grey-blue eyes of his. He's breathing hard through his mouth, he pushes her nightgown up to her waist and she locks her thumbs into the space between his boxers and skin. He breaks eye contact to stare at her mouth and she pushes his boxers down with his jeans, and his hands meet hers to help, and then to push her panties to the side. She has to grab his hand to stop him entering her with his fingers, holds it between her breasts. She pushes her hips up, follows the length of him with her cunt, aches to have him inside her.
When she wakes up, it's almost noon, and she's way past late to meet Bobby because they always have breakfast together. It's the consolation they landed on because she's not comfortable sharing a bed with him yet, even after she got cured and they started having sex, and she doesn't want to think about the implications of that now that she's waking up with John's arms around her, about whatever the hell that was in her dreams, so she's just not going to.
She's just going to file this moment away as something private and other, because the weight and warmth of his body on hers is… nice actually. She's kind of disgusted with herself that she thinks he smells good when he also smells like a bar. But, the smell suits him somehow, and he's musky too, by his own right, and she can't help that she likes it, that she always has. She stopped beating herself up about that a long time ago.
Still, she's not sure she wants him to wake up with their bodies like this, with his arms holding her close and their legs intertwined, and the sheets all askew.
But, she kind of does too, just to see what he thinks of it all, and that thought is pushed away as quickly as it lands.
This is bad.
She carefully removes herself. She's surprised by how graceful her body is when she needs it to be. She's almost out when he starts to stir and she flies into a panic, throws herself out of his bed like one of those prey animals that's been caught off guard, but he just grumbles and rolls over.
Her breathing is hard and she can hear her own heartbeat.
She's in last night's nightgown, and John's well, he's kind of beautiful actually. His face is… calm, soft. For the first time in a long time, she's looking at him and can feel how much they're the same age.
But, she has to go before he wakes up and she has to find Bobby anyway, to explain, and so she just leaves the moment behind the closed door when she shuts it on her way out.
She figures she has time to shower since it's technically lunch now, and she meets Bobby in his room after, texts him that she wants to talk. She doesn't give the wording two thoughts until he's in front of her looking like he's ready for a long argument but gets confused when she starts apologizing. Oops. But it works out because he's so happy they aren't breaking up that he forgets to be suspicious that she blew him off for their standing date that she has never missed once.