Chapter stuff I want to talk about:
- Use condoms kids, you're not Isabel
- I can't believe the first time I'm going to post porn for these two is this fic in particular! I wrote them having the softest sex TM for a different fic that I haven't finished editing and I'm quite displeased that this ended up being the first one I put out there. Oh well. I still think it's in character and all that, I just would have wanted the cute sex to go out first. Oh well.
- I know some ideas of how the Citadel/Arkarian's chambers work is more technology oriented, but I've always leaned more towards "it's just magic". Sure, they have some big tech for time traveling but they also have magic so… XD
- I know I've been asked before to write a proposal scene for these two. I'm sorry this wasn't it XDD but don't lose hope, I suppose? ;)
Ok third PSA done, it's now 4am, I'm going to format and post the final chapter but you just go on and read this one XDD Enjoy!
CHAPTER 3
The darkness doesn't bother me, especially not as the lights around the corridor start shining softly upon our arrival. The wind, however, slides in through the cracks in the rocks around us, and I shiver.
"The air sure is colder here," I muse, and Arkarian huffs a laugh.
"Come on, let's find our room. It'll be warmer."
It'll be if we want it to be, and when we step into the room we usually occupy, we find it to now harbor a fireplace. Arkarian hums, approvingly, using his powers to light a fire in it, and soon enough, I feel my shoulders relax after the sudden chill. I place my bag near my usual side of the bed, sit on the edge.
"I'll never tire of seeing you use your powers," I tell him, quietly. I have to use my vision ability, but I soon realize he avoids my eyes for a moment because he's blushing. I grin. "I've told you before how cool they are. I know for a fact most of the Named agree with me, before you go around calling me biased," I add. He shakes his head.
"They took a long time to develop and train, and I'm proud of them, but... well, I don't usually show them off. Not a lot of people know about them."
He sits next to me, observing the fire dancing inside the fireplace. I follow his gaze, but it's a bit too much for my eyes, sensitive to the light as they have become, so I look back at him.
"Arkarian?"
"Hm?"
"I thought we had an agenda?"
"Hmm."
He looks back at me, and this time, the flame dances in his eyes, reflecting off of the violet and becoming a different color altogether. He smiles, and pushes my hair behind my ears, pulling me closer into a kiss in the same motion. I follow, but the kiss is simple, almost chaste. It's warm, and gentle, and I have no other option — I melt against him.
I don't have a lot to compare with, but Arkarian is an excellent kisser, and we could —and have— spent entire afternoons just kissing, without ever going further, simply enjoying the way lips felt against lips. And while I'm fairly sure we'll go further tonight, I'm in no way, shape or form opposed to a small prelude first.
I lift my legs to hook them over his, but I don't move to straddle him yet. He has alleged plans for this dress, and every now and then I actually know how to let go of control, thank you very much. He tries to hide a grin against my lips at this thought, and I bite him for it.
It's warm, perhaps too warm, by the time I realize how breathless I am, how quick my heart is beating. His hands have long since abandoned their relatively innocent position on my shoulders, and have drifted down my back to my ass, and then to my legs. Now they are tracing patterns on my thighs, under the layers of skirt of my dress, and slowly, very slowly closing in upwards. I shiver when one of his fingertips grazes the elastic of my underwear without pulling on it, and I realize my own hands are making a complete mess of his hair. Okay, so we've gotten carried away. He laughs against my mouth as I think this, and pulls his hands away. I whine, but he doesn't leave me waiting for long. Instead, he takes hold of my waist to push me upwards on the bed, toward the center, and hint that I should lay down on it, so I do, pushing my own hair away from my face. He hovers over me for a moment, taking in the sight, and I wonder briefly what I look like, before he holds one of his hands behind him to lower the flames in the fireplace. I breathe a sigh of relief when a breeze of cool air moves around the room, and we both take a deep breath.
He observes me for a second, but then shakes his head, beckons me closer. I laugh, but I let him pull me up to my feet. I know more or less what he's going for, but I still take a moment to press my body against his, enjoying his warmth more now that the room isn't threatening to boil us alive. He groans as I place tiny kisses on his neck, almost tiptoeing to reach his earlobe, but he doesn't bend down to meet me. He pushes me away gently a few moments later.
"Please," he whispers. "I've been wanting this for hours. You can have your fun after."
What he means by 'this' is unclear to me, at least until I realize his hands have found the zipper on the back of my dress. I nod, and he pulls it down, slowly, making sure I feel every single one of the metal teeth being opened. His free hand is pressed against my lower back, and only moves when the zipper is fully open, to trace fingertips up my now naked spine.
We both watch as he slowly peels the sleeves away from my arms, the body of the dress falling away from me easily after that. He lets it slide off, eyes drinking in the sight, and I have to wonder what I look like. The dress reflects the light from the fireplace in much a similar way to his own eyes, and his hands tighten around my wrist and waist as this thought reaches him. He searches for my eyes, but he doesn't say anything, he doesn't really have to say anything to make me shiver. He tugs the dress down so it goes past my hips, and it falls to the floor, so he pulls on my hand and I step out of it to all but crawl into his arms. He holds me tight.
It's perfect, just this, just now.
After a moment, his hands slide on my skin, pushing me even closer to him with a fervor that reminds me of earlier, in the dining room. The way he'd said 'If I kiss you right now, I don't think I'll let you go'.
I pull on his sweater to take it off of him, and pull his shirt up to untuck it. I slip my own hands under it, scratching gently on his back, and he groans as I press my palm against his lower back, hips stuttering against my waist. His belt digs against my skin, but it's not enough to distract me from realizing he's hard, and I grin. I love knowing the effect I have on him, and after what he said earlier, I have a fairly good idea of what tonight is going to be like. I've been pressing idle kisses to his neck, and he's let me, cupping my ass to keep me close, and squeezing when I bite tentatively under his jaw. We've never... well, not on purpose at least. The idea of marking him, though, of letting others know exactly what we've been doing the night before, of others knowing that he's mine... it's a heady thought.
I tiptoe, but once more, he refuses to bend lower so I can bring my mouth to his earlobe, where I know he's most sensitive. His breath falters, perhaps at my thoughts, or perhaps just with anticipation, and it's only when he tries to pull on my underwear that I step away. I tug at the buttons of his shirt.
"Off..."
"You first," he all but growls, and I look back at his eyes, surprised.
It wasn't like this in the beginning, everything was a lot more... well, vanilla, is perhaps the right word. But once we found our rhythm, I had never made a secret of the fact that I liked to be on top, that I enjoyed being the one in control, and he let me most of the time. It's been a while, I think to myself as I realize tonight won't be one of those nights. He's listening, clearly, because he chuckles, and I feel a shiver run down my spine at the sound.
Wordlessly, I nod, and I move to unclasp my bra, but he bats my hands away.
"No, I want to do it," he murmurs, so instead, I turn around for him. I can feel his fingers trailing up my body to find the clasp, undo it. He lets the bra fall to the floor as he pulls me back against him, his hands teasing my ribs with just his fingertips.
Teasing me, I can't help but think, despite the fact that I can feel his cock pressed against my lower back. I wonder, with anticipation, just how much he's going to make me wait. Whether he'll have me begging before the night is over.
His mouth closes down on the side of my neck, sucking ever so gently, and I try to arch my back into his hands, but he doesn't let me. I sigh. Gods, but I'm predictable. I'm already frustrated... He laughs at me, of course he does.
"Alright then," he says, pushing me away before he's really even touched me properly.
He does it gently, as he always does, and perhaps it's because of that, that I don't manage to brace myself when he pushes me abruptly forward. I stumble, and he hooks a finger on the last piece of my underwear to pull it off of me as I nearly fall. I gasp as it pulls me back slightly as well, but he doesn't linger, letting it fall down my legs the same way he had with the dress. I step out of it, tentatively, and he slaps my ass to push me forward, toward the bed.
He's always so careful that it's easy to forget how strong he really is. The strike doesn't hurt, not at first at least, but it's hard enough that I fall against the mattress, bracing myself on my hands and knees, and I barely have any respite before I feel him turning me around so I'm on my back. His mouth is on mine before I can even take a breath, and I have to moan against his lips as his fingers finally find my nipples, tugging, and tweaking, and pinching. I try to circle his waist with my legs, but he doesn't let me, crawling over me so only one of his knees is between mine. What he does let me do is rock against him, and for a moment, we lose ourselves just like that.
His mouth wanders after a bit, pressing wet kisses to my neck, and little, tiny bites that barely hurt me, but I can feel the marks he's leaving with my powers. I don't heal them though. I want them.
He goes lower, eventually, taking my nipples in his mouth, but he doesn't linger there, not yet. I've always known he likes to take his time, but gods, it doesn't make it any easier on me... I whine as he blows on my wet skin, the change in temperature giving me goosebumps, and he presses his thigh against my core a little more, but doesn't speak. Instead, he surges up to kiss me again, and I take my chance to attempt to pull on the buttons of his shirt. He stops me. When he sits up on his heels, I think he might just take it off himself, but all he does is undo the cuff buttons and roll up his sleeves, leaving the shirt on otherwise. I pout.
"Seriously?" I ask, slightly embarrassed to find my voice already so breathy. "I don't get to touch you too?"
"Later," he promises, and grins when I start to grumble. "Behave, Isabel. Do you want me to tie you up? I can always lose the belt."
"Lose the belt anyway, some of us are naked and that thing isn't fun."
He ticks up an eyebrow, but seems to silently agree, because he slides it off the tabs, and flings it to the other side of the bed.
"Is that... a no on the belt?" he asks, tentatively. I draw a breath, realizing this might be something we've never really talked about… Whether he figures out what it's about from my thoughts or not, his expression changes, like a piece of the puzzle falling into place.
"Tonight might not be a good moment to delve into it. I'm sure we have some other piece of fabric lying around?"
He doesn't push it, simply nods.
"I don't feel like trying to find one right now. I'm sure I won't need it, though..." he smirks, and I realize I'm fucked no matter what he says next. "You'll behave for me, won't you? Let me have my fill of you before you inevitably distract me?"
"Maybe if you ask nicely," I taunt him, and his eyes widen, amused.
Perhaps it's because I'm expecting to be spanked, or perhaps bitten, but it takes me completely by surprise when what he does is flick one of my nipples. Not hard, not enough to hurt, just enough to make me jump. A warning.
"What was that?" he asks again. A challenge.
Some other day, I'll fight him for it. We've never actually tried to one up each other in bed, but if actually sparring with the man is any indication, it might be just intoxicating. Now, though, we have a different agenda for the night. I put on my sweetest smile.
"Nothing!" I opt for, cheery as can be. He waits, and I tilt my head, aiming for invitingly. "Won't you do with me as you please, dear? I have been asking for it all evening, after all."
"For someone who spends her every waking hour trying to prove herself, you have little respect for authority, don't you, Isabel?" he laughs, flicking my nipple again. "Or is that it? Does danger do it for you?"
"I'm not scared of you, Arkarian," I can't help but say, and I curse my lack of filter as he smiles, nearly feral. "Fuck."
"Quite," he muses, but he doesn't add anything else.
He refuses to undress, and what's more, he takes my hands to push them above my head against the mattress, with an unspoken request not to move them, so I'm left with no way to truly touch him while he looks at me, halfway between admiring and assessing. He's leaning over me, but he isn't touching me, save for our legs, still intertwined, so all I can do is arch my back and pray that he plans to have mercy on me sooner rather than later. Things have barely started, but I can already tell he plans on dragging it out.
"We have nothing if not time, dear heart," he whispers against the skin of my shoulder, before pressing a kiss there, and sucking a bruise right after, the contrast with the softness of his lips dizzying.
In a sense, I'm glad we know each other so well by now. He can literally read my mind, but it had taken me considerably longer to get to read him as well as he reads me. I'm more than fine with letting him lead this time, especially because the longer he spends simply pressing kisses and slight bruises on my skin, the more I realize this won't be turning into a control thing. It rarely ever is, with us, not more than it has to. One of us leads, most of the time me, but we don't make a game of it. This time is no different.
We could. But like he said, we have nothing if not time... and neither of us is in a rush right now. It's the gods know how late, we've had an eventful day, and emotions have been running high all throughout it. We're both riled up, but we're not in a mood for taking control. But giving it, now, that's somehow completely different.
He bites me, perhaps because of my thoughts, or perhaps just because he feels like it, and I jump. He's drifted down my torso, magnanimously sparing my chest, but focusing his efforts instead on my hips, my waist, almost near my ribs, judging by the bites that have hurt the most. I nearly bring my hands down to rub at the skin, but he gets there first, this time definitely listening to my thoughts. He licks at my bruised skin gently, with the tip of his tongue, and smoothens his fingertips over it with a calming pressure that eases the sting a little. Then he keeps moving downwards.
He takes his time playing with my belly button, sucking, nibbling, pulling at the rim with his lips, sometimes with his fingers. He's moved too far away for me to rub against his leg at this point, and unsurprisingly, he smiles, altogether too pleased with himself, when I moan, frustrated. I try to pull him closer with my legs, but he ignores me.
If he'd kept going lower, I wouldn't have minded, but he doesn't. Or at least, not linearly. He does, however, stand up at the feet of the bed, pulling me close enough to lift my legs in the air, and start pressing kisses around his own fingers, curled around my ankles. I think I cry out with the first bite, on the sensitive inner side of skin just above my left ankle, but after that, I lose track of them. He encourages me to rest my other leg on his shoulder, which I do, as he focuses on my left, but soon enough he seems to change his mind. As he pushes my ankle out in a wide motion, I can't help but put on a bit of a show.
Sue me. Being flexible is nice in bed.
Even without using my sight ability, it's not difficult to follow his eyes as they roam my body appreciatively, even if they're slightly obscured by the semi darkness. The fireplace is behind him, and his shadow is nice on my eyes. He pushes my left leg down as well, and I keep them both splayed open, wondering if I'd be allowed to lower my hands to hold my legs out like this. His only answer is a chiding tap on the underside of my thigh, and I take it as a no. Well. That'll take a bit more effort, I suppose.
"I know you can take it," he murmurs, almost conversationally. I roll my eyes, but I don't have much to argue with.
After a second of waiting, he rewards my silence with a gentle caress down my abdomen, the curve of my hip. His fingers pet my hair briefly, as if soothing me, when in reality having his touch so close to my clit is almost enough to make my hips buckle. I whine, but it's slightly too early to beg. He still looks like he has something planned.
And he does. He goes back to my legs, making me shiver and jump here and there as he leaves a trail of hickeys on them, mostly around my ankles, but also just under my knee, a few centimeters below, on the inside of my thighs, but not truly touching me...
By the time he starts licking at my thighs close enough that his hair tickles my clit, I'm not really bothering to keep my voice down. I cant my hips upward, and he slaps the thigh he's not currently marking, with a resounding smack. It makes me jerk forward in a rush of sensation, so intense it makes me wonder if I just came without being touched whatsoever. It's... hard to tell, but whatever that was, he seems pleased with the result because he tries it again, biting down on a patch of skin and slapping my other leg at the same time. Even expecting it, it's... intense.
I'm babbling incoherently when he stops to give me room to breathe, and we look into each other's eyes. He's smiling, rather more smug than anyone who knows him would ever give him credit for. In other circumstances, I might be annoyed that no one would believe me if I told them, but tonight... Gods, tonight it's dizzying, the knowledge that he wants me so completely, and wants me to want him so in return. His eyes flutter closed, and finally, finally, he lets me put my legs down again and surges up to kiss me.
It's messy, this time. His lips are red, and swollen, and he very nearly whines as I bite on them further. His hair falls around us, shielding almost all the light from the fireplace, and I have to remind myself that I'm not supposed to move before accidentally lowering my hands to push it aside. He rests his forehead on my shoulder after a moment, though, observing his work. I look down as well, as much as I can. My powers are nagging at me, on the back of my head, yelling that I should heal myself, that I'm bruised all over, but I ignore them. I'm not sure I could focus for long enough to heal them anyway, not with Arkarian looking at me like he is right now. He pushes himself up again, taking my hands in his to lick the fingertips, teasingly. He swirls his tongue around one of my fingers, and somehow, even though I'm expecting it, the feeling of his teeth on my fingertips is so precise, so detailed, that it makes me shudder. I press against the sharp edges, pushing in a little, and he allows it for a moment, lips curving around my fingers in a way that tells me he's trying not to smile. When he lets go, it's with a quiet pop of air that startles me, and he does chuckle at that. He places my hands on his shoulders this time, coming closer to kiss me again.
"I've wanted to do this for so long," he breathes, as if confessing to a dark secret. I can't help but laugh.
"Is it living up to the expectations?"
He groans as an answer, hips stuttering against mine. I can't help but hiss, though, the rough material of his trousers a bit too much for how sensitive my skin is by now. After a second, he seems to realize it as well, and chuckles.
"I did say you could have your fun later, didn't I..." he muses, and before I can understand the sentence itself, he's pushing himself to his feet. "What do you want, Isabel?"
I want to look, for starters, so I prop myself on my elbows, taking stock of my body. I lose count of the multiple small red splotches around my skin, shifting my legs closed instinctively with a relieved sigh. When I finally look up, his eyes are burning just as much as the fire behind his back. I sit up, and look at him as well.
His hair is not as bad as I would have expected, but then again, I've had to keep my hands to myself... His shirt is partially untucked, and his trousers are rumpled, with a dark patch where he'd been pressed against me. Even in the semi darkness, without using my sight ability, they leave little to the imagination. I beckon him closer so I don't have to stand up on the cold floor, and immediately undo the button. I don't have as much patience as he does, especially not after what he's just put me through.
He lets me work, breath stuttering slightly as I pull his trousers off, but helping me get rid of them and otherwise not rushing me. As he steps out of them completely, I pull him down so I can finally straddle him properly. The hair on his legs tickles my thighs, and I'm acutely aware of how sensitive my skin still is. He closes his eyes, either following my thoughts, or having something on his own mind, I can't say. In any case, it's a good reminder to shield my thoughts while I do this... He does open his eyes again, at that, and I laugh.
"Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," I tell him quietly, and he hums, leaning up a little to ask for a kiss. I comply.
I see immediately why he'd wanted me to keep my hands to myself. It's nearly impossible to focus on what I want to do, where I want to mark him, with his hands tracing patterns on my back, pressing on my waist like he wants his very own fingers to create bruises there. I grind against him for a little while, and I'm already so wet that his underwear barely offers any resistance. I can feel him twitch against me and, for a moment, it's very tempting to just... leave this for some other time. Just get on with it... But no.
He's not the only one who finds this kind of thing hot, and tonight is a perfect opportunity. What better way to start the year?
I sit up, glad that the messy bun Neriah had pinned on my head earlier is still somewhat holding up. Arkarian still has his hands on my hips, encouraging me to move, but I bring them up, in a similar fashion as he'd done to me, and he whines. Honest to gods, he whines. The nerve of this man. I can't help but laugh at him.
"I waited for my turn," I remind him, playfully pressing his hands above his head on the mattress. I can see him starting to reply, so I interrupt him. "I was good, won't you sit still and be good for me as well?"
Whatever he was about to say dies on his tongue, and he holds his breath in surprise, but he simply nods in silence after a moment, leaving me to wonder if maybe that somehow does it for him, being told he's good. I can feel his heart beating wildly with my powers, however, and now doesn't seem like a good moment to stop just to ask, so I waste no time in leaning forward to start kissing his skin.
I know how sensitive his neck is, so I only press a chaste kiss to it before moving forward, and his disappointment is almost palpable. It's still early for that, though... I pull at the skin on his shoulder with my lips at first, then my teeth, until I can tell it reddens. It would be a bit difficult, spotting the color on his skin by firelight, but that is hardly a problem given my ability. His skin, paler than mine, bruises easily, and I continue placing bite marks around his collarbone. As I move, I undo the rest of the buttons of his shirt, letting it fall open so I can continue exploring his chest with my mouth. I lick and suck at his nipples, playing with them until he's all but panting, but I don't spend too much time teasing him. I don't have the patience to drag this out quite as much as he already has...
His belly is ticklish, somehow even more so than mine, and I take the chance to take both our minds off of the urgency of the moment, for just a few seconds. I'm not sure I'd have enough willpower to see this through, otherwise... He laughs, startled and high-pitched, eyes flowing open at the unexpected sensation as I poke his belly button with my tongue. He finds my eyes, and after a second of realization, he shrieks in laughter as I use my hands to tickle him even more. His hands come down before he even realizes it to push me away, and I fight him as best as I can for a few moments. We end up tangled on our sides, legs on the wrong side of hurting with how they've ended up trapped. He's panting by my ear, one of my hands firmly trapped between his fingers, his other hand trapped in mine. I start laughing, just as breathless, and he snorts, letting go of me to fall on his back again. He glares at me.
"No," is all he says as he starts catching his breath. "Just... no."
"Sorry," I start, between hiccups of laughter. "I couldn't help myself. No more tickling, I promise."
He eyes me warily as I place one more kiss to his belly, firm enough that it won't tickle him, but I mean it. I look at his hands pointedly until he puts them above his head again, and only then do I move further.
I tug his underwear down, but even as I do so, I wonder if it's a good idea. It's impossibly difficult not to get sidetracked, so close to his cock, and feeling it twitch and bob against my chest as I move, but I do try my best to pay attention to his hips. He's left mine in quite a state, and I can't stop thinking of what he might wear the next day. If he wears a t-shirt, would it ride up enough to show these off? The thought is more than enough to keep me focused, at least until I've pressed enough hickeys on him that he's all but squirming, and I have no more excuses to keep going.
I don't have it in me to tease him as much as he's teased me. With a look up, I realize he's closed his eyes again, and I take the chance to surprise him when I take him in my mouth, slowly, but as deep as I can go. Sometimes I like to have him watch, tease until I finally wrap my lips around him, but this time I don't have the patience anymore... And it's worth it, it's worth every second of torturous waiting until now. His eyes flutter open, his back arching upwards as he throws his head back with a moan, and he moves his hands almost instinctively, before he drops them by his sides, fingers pulled taut into fists. I can't help but smile, pulling away slightly so I can rearrange myself on the bed. He pushes himself up on his elbows, catching his breath as I lay myself on my side, almost perpendicular to him. I hide my toes under one of the pillows, more to feel the softness of the pillowcase than to warm myself. The room has once again turned hot, but whether it's because of the fireplace, or simply because of us, it's difficult to tell anymore. He observes me, eyes lidded, and I smirk.
"Problem?" I murmur, reaching to lean on his lap. He bites his lips as he shakes his head. "Good," I tell him, and before I can even touch him again, I can feel the shudder going through him. Huh. So I was right...
"Come here," he says, before I can lean down. I look, and his hand is reaching over toward my hip.
I don't answer immediately, confused for about two seconds, until I realize what he means. I can't choke back a yelp as he all but drags my hips closer to him so he can touch me as well. I think we both moan when he slides a finger ever so softly over my folds. His head falls forward, his hair obscuring his features for a moment until he shakes it away. He's biting his lips as he finds my clit, offering the smallest of pressures.
"Gods, you're..." he starts, cutting off as I choose to use my hands as well and I drag my fingertips over the tip of his cock. "Mmm… you're so wet..." he moans.
He doesn't say anything afterwards, not anything coherent, in any case. I eventually manage to find a comfortable position where he can still touch me while I touch him, and for a moment, only the fireplace, cracking in the background, accompanies our heavy breaths and the sounds of hands and mouths pleasuring each other.
Even now, when we're both desperate to stop the games and just have each other, there seems to be an unspoken agreement to take it slowly. For a minute or two, he only touches me with his fingertips, and we keep our eyes locked on one another as we do, trying our best to keep them open. In the end, I'm fairly sure I break eye contact first, too overwhelmed when he taps on my clit with his fingers flat against me, a quick and gentle strike that sparks my nerve endings all the way down to my toes. He repeats it, once, twice. The third time I manage to move in response and his rhythm stutters as I push myself up enough to put my lips to better use. I mouth at the underside of his cock, tracing lines on it with my tongue, going lower to take his balls into my mouth.
I wait until my own mind feels a little clearer to let go and redirect my mouth to the soft skin of his thighs, which tremble as he feels me bite on it, upside down and messy, a lot messier than the other bites had been. I move back so I can reach the leg I'd been leaning on, and his hands leave me. When I look, he gestures for me to come up.
I'd thought before that we wouldn't get to the point of fighting to take the lead, tonight, but as we both take in the sight of the other, it's pretty clear we both want the same thing. I kiss him, using my momentum to make him fall back, but he slides a leg between mine, pushing a knee against my hip to tilt me to the side, and pin me down instead. I push out his elbows until he loses his balance, and just like this, we lose a few minutes fighting one another and just... kissing. Lips mashing against each other, no longer cautious that we're too sore. I heal our lips without hesitation, just so we don't hurt each other but we can still feel it, and he bites me hard enough to make me bleed anyway. I bite him back, as I heal myself, but he uses the moment of distraction to trap my hands once more, and I have to concede. He only takes a second to get his breath back, before he pulls himself up enough to rearrange our legs, letting go of my hands now that I've relented. I immediately go for his shirt, undoing the buttons quickly and pushing it back, and he finally, finally takes it off. With that out of the way, I pull him back to me. The feeling of his entire body pressed to mine now, no clothes in the way, is like no other. He holds me, letting out a shaky breath as he rests his head on my chest, and I comb his hair back for a few seconds. When he looks at me, ticking up an eyebrow, I nod. I thread my fingers on his hair to push it back and pull him closer at the same time.
"Come on, then," I whisper as he kisses me, raising my legs to circle his waist. One of his hands finds the underside of my thigh, pushing it a bit higher still. "Arkarian..." I insist, and he presses an apology kiss to the corner of my lips, before lowering his head to see. His other hand still finds my clit briefly, before he takes himself in hand and finally enters me.
I think we both sigh in a mix of relief and arousal, and when he balances himself on one of his forearms, the other hand still hooked under my knee, and starts moving, I already know this won't take much longer at all.
He's pressed close enough that I can't move much, so I occupy my hands on braiding his hair. It's not perfect, hell, it's not even a good braid, but it's enough that I can eventually shift all of his hair out of the way and also use it to keep a hold of him. I tug, firmly, though not with a lot of force, and he looks at me defiantly, daring me to keep it up. I ease up, but he and I both know I'll keep it in mind. I can't focus enough to shield my thoughts anymore, and I wouldn't want to. At this point, if he isn't fully in me, in as many ways as he can, what's even the point...
He laughs breathlessly at this idea, leaning forward to shift his angle and press more directly on my clit with every thrust. I gasp when he pinches the sensitive skin under my thigh, almost behind my knee, and I can feel my hips buckle without my consent. His eyes screw shut as I moan his name.
"Bells... I..." he starts, but I don't let him finish.
I had almost forgotten, as things devolved quickly after some point, but now that he's so close and within reach, I only have to lean up a little to mouth at the skin of his neck, so far unmarked. I'd intended to leave it for last, knowing how much he enjoyed it, and as he groans at the simple thought of it, hips grinding into mine as his rhythm falters, I know it had been the right idea.
If we weren't already so close, both of us, I would take my time. I'd press little, chaste kisses here and there, and tease his earlobes one by one. As things are, I start directly by sucking one of his earlobes into my mouth, rough, and wet, and there's nothing more gratifying than the full body shudder that goes through him at that. I move lower, as much as I can while he continues to thrust into me, rhythm sloppy, quick and dirty, and I'm on the brink of coming when I remember —
He gasps when I pull on his hair, tilting his head backwards enough for me to bite at his throat, just under his jaw, then closer to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. His entire body stiffens as I suck on the skin, bringing blood up enough to bruise, but what really does it, what really, finally does it, is when I pull away enough to whisper in his ear.
"Mine."
He collapses on top of me as he comes, hard, breathless, and desperate, and brings me down with him into absolute, utter bliss.
#
"I swear to all the gods, if you apologize one more time..."
"Fine, fine. Sorry."
I consider, idly, whether apologizing for over apologizing counts, and whether I need to do something about it. He doesn't seem to register he's even said it. He's apologizing for something dumb, anyway.
"I've told you a million times, you heard me tell my mom earlier!"
"I know," he insists, and I turn around to burrow my face into his neck, and hopefully stop talking about this.
"I love you but you worry so much, stop killing our afterglow," I grumble.
This, at the very least, makes him laugh. He presses a kiss to my hair, and I sigh, content enough to stay as we are. But I know he's still worrying, and I have the slight feeling this is no longer about safe sex practices.
"Okay, fine, alright, what is the problem now," I ask him, deadpan, and he snorts. I pull away to look him in the eye, and he shakes his head.
"Not a problem, promise," he says, leaning in to kiss me.
"Then?"
I'm not using my night vision anymore, so it takes me a longer time than usual to spot the color that reaches his cheeks as he thinks of what he wants to say. I arch my eyebrows.
"Really? After everything you said earlier, and tonight's activities, you're going to be shy about it?"
"Shh, I'm thinking," he says, and I drop my head back on his shoulder while I wait. "It's just... what you said at the end..."
He doesn't finish, perhaps waiting for me to say something, but for once, I'm perfectly content letting him put it all out in the open before I say anything. I know what I said. If it bothered him, he's going to have to tell me, because...
"No, no, it didn't bother me," he rushes to add, clearly following my thoughts. I turn enough to look at him, and he's frowning. "Of course it didn't bother me. Gods, it was..." he doesn't finish, swallowing and chuckling, a little breathless. "It was something, that's for sure."
"Hmm," I mumble, unsure of what his point really is. He sighs.
"The thing is, I know..." he sighs again, interrupting himself in his frustration.
Whatever it is, he's really worked up about it all of a sudden... I push myself up on my elbow to look at him in the eye.
"You liked it," I assess, and he nods. "Should I not have said that anyway? I thought, after what we talked about in my room..."
"No, you said exactly the right thing. Gods, I'm terrible at this," he laughs at himself, shakes his head. "You're going to think it's absurd, but just... hear me out for a moment," he tries again. I nod. "So, you know I've been with other people before. Those times, especially the older I was, and the better my reputation within the Guard became... well, people started to think about me differently, right? I wasn't... Well, I don't want to say they didn't think of me as a person, but most people had trouble thinking of me as a true equal, you know?"
"That's something that's always worried you," I muse, and he nods. "I remember. I really respect your experience, and your expertise, but... to a certain extent, you've never really treated me like you expected me to think of you differently for it, so I didn't?"
"And I love that. Having this kind of relationship with you, where we can both see each other as equals despite our differences, is more than I could have ever dreamed of," he assures me. I can't help but smile.
"Aww..."
"But that's the thing," he continues, before we get sidetracked. "When I was with them, they sometimes thought of being with me as some sort of... well, some just thought they were lucky, others thought of it as a bit of a trophy... many have felt possessive of me, in a way that wasn't exactly what I wanted, you know?"
He looks at me then, and he must spot the disgust in my face, because he chuckles, raising a hand to comb the locks of hair that have fallen off my bun behind my ear.
"It was fine, Isabel. I didn't mind. It was rarely ever a situation where I cared much what they thought of me, you know that. It was... you know. It was just sex, really."
"Right..."
"Still. It's not that I don't enjoy possessiveness as a kink thing, it's that... it's never felt this way, it's never felt this right," he murmurs, blushing so much I can see his ears starting to redden. I can't help but smile wider, leaning up to ask for a kiss. He indulges me. "Most of those people never voiced those thoughts, either. It would have felt awkward, considering the kind of relationship we had. I've never had someone say that to me with so much certainty, when I was already feeling that way..." he shakes his head slowly. "Gods. For a moment, I thought you might have been reading my mind."
I pout, which draws another chuckle from him. He knows full well how much I wish I could.
"You know, I also think being able to have you is a bit of a miracle. I've been starstruck literally since we met, and I don't think it's going away anytime soon," I mutter, hoping to just raise his hackles a little, and he snorts, pulling me closer.
"Not even remotely comparable," he dismisses it easily. I sigh.
"Tell me, then?" I ask, quietly. As I feel my cheeks burn, I realize how difficult it is to talk about this, and I feel slightly awkward for having made fun of him earlier. He hums inquisitively.
"That I'm yours? Isabel, you know that I..."
"No, no," I interrupt, seeking out his lips so I don't get trapped in his eyes. "I... I know that."
"Then— oh," he breathes, and his arms tighten around me, forcing a squeak out of me, a sound I hadn't even been aware I could make, outside of sex. He chuckles somewhat darkly, and pulls away to look at me anyway, the full force of those amazing eyes focused entirely on mine. "Of course... Of course you're mine as well, Isabel. Not just because you want it enough to ask me to say it out loud, but I mean... look at you," he gestures vaguely, but I know what he means. "You're covered in me, you've literally scolded me for apologizing after coming inside you," he laughs, not maliciously, but I know I must be blushing heavily now. I open my mouth to speak, but he continues. "Not content with that, you claim me for yourself in front of others. Your brother even said it... did you see what you were wearing? You're mine, Bells, and it is so because of your own free choice. Yes, you're my soulmate, but you didn't know that when you made all the decisions that led us to eventually be together, you did that all on your own. So, yes, you're mine. Mine, beloved," he repeats, against my lips.
Sweet mercy. This man is a menace...
I reach to kiss him rather more out of a sense of self-preservation than anything else. If I let him talk any more than that, I would be in serious risk of melting into a puddle. He shakes with laughter as my thoughts reach him, but he kisses me back anyway, slowly, refusing to meet my much more desperate pace. His hands slide on my back gently, and for a moment I consider a second round, but...
"It's late," I mumble, apologetic. As it turns out, he seems to be thinking something along the same lines. He shakes his head.
"Agreed. Let's clean up?"
"Mmhm."
We still get sidetracked getting out of bed, and tonight isn't even one of the times where we have to untangle the bedsheets from our bodies. The fire is dying down as we stand up, and Arkarian gives a half-hearted attempt to rekindle it, but there's not enough wood, and it becomes smaller immediately after. He sighs, shuffling toward the fireplace to add another couple of logs. I pick up our clothes as he does, and since he isn't looking, I take the chance to slip on his shirt. It's big on me, but the sleeves are still rolled up, so at least I'm not completely dwarfed by it. He smiles appreciatively when he does turn around, and I close a few of the buttons before I realize I haven't brought any shoes. I groan, and pick up my heels.
"I'm not stepping on the stone floor outside without shoes," I declare when I realize he's about to ask. He laughs.
"After all this time, you still haven't figured out how these rooms work, Isabel?"
He points to one of the walls and a door materializes before my eyes, making me click my tongue. Of course. He doesn't tease me more for it though, instead leading the way to the bathroom without bothering to put on any clothes. Not that we really need them... what we need is a shower.
The bathroom is... not really a bathroom, in the traditional sense. I knew the mountain hid a multitude of rooms and that they were ever-changing, but it has never manifested this bathroom for me before. Arkarian must have called it somehow, or willed it into existence, I'm not exactly clear on the specific details. When I look around me, my things seem to have moved from my bag to the sides of a bathroom sink, in a corner. The rest of the room is... open-ended, might be a word for it.
Arkarian turns on a knob in one of the walls, for a shower that blends together with the tiles, and starts washing off. Further into the room, there's such a vast expanse of water that I can't help but wonder if the room ends at some point... The water seems to be hot enough to steam, and the far edges of the room are quite blurry. It's some sort of pool, but the edge looks more like a shore than anything else, and it's hard to say how deep it becomes.
"Come on," Arkarian calls me, startling me back to reality. "Do you want me to help with your hair?"
"Only if I can help with yours," I reply, almost automatically. It makes him snort, but he agrees.
"Come on then."
I realize pretty quickly what he means by helping with my hair. He comes closer so the water doesn't hit me, and starts helping me fish the hairpins out. It's only when they're all out and my hair is mostly falling down my shoulders that he pulls on my hand to get me under the water spray as well. I yelp, but I'm soaked before I can complain, and I can't help but laugh as he looks me up and down, smug as ever, his shirt now nearly see-through as it clings to my skin. I shake my head, but let him look his fill.
"I swear, no one would ever believe me if I told them you continue to pull this shit off, somehow," I mutter, and he chuckles, helping me get rid of it after a moment.
"Maybe Jimmy would. You might be able to convince Ethan, too. But Shaun would most definitely pretend he hasn't heard you, and I'm not entirely sure that Neriah would even know what to do with that information."
"Fair, I suppose."
"I think Matt would go away as soon as you even brought up the conversation," he continues, rather amused with the idea. He pours shampoo on his hands and motions for me to turn around. "And Dillon would manage to turn it around enough to laugh at you too for it. As for the Tribunal members, I imagine it might depend on who you're talking to."
"Oh, I'm sure some of them would find it hilarious," I murmur, closing my eyes so the shampoo won't get in them. He laughs, good naturedly. We've had this conversation before.
"Hmm, I do wonder if I'm very different now, from how I was back then... It has been a while."
To that, I have no answer. He's told me here and there about some of his previous relationships, those that mattered the most to him at the time. It had surprised me in the beginning, how many of them were centuries ago. It had taken me quite a lot longer to figure out that he'd become more cautious with time. In my defense, it still feels strange to think of an Arkarian as cold as he describes himself. He's told me repeatedly to ask Jimmy or Shaun if I don't believe him, but, at this point, I think I'm rather more scared to find out just how true it is.
He tilts my head back to wash off the shampoo, and I let those thoughts drift away too. It doesn't matter right now. The real Arkarian is right here, and there's no need to reminisce about a past version of him right now.
"Of all the things I expected you to be curious about, my past would have been one of them," he comments when I pick up the shampoo to repay the favor. He's already undone the disastrous braid I'd put his hair in, so I can get on with it.
"I am," I answer tentatively. "But there are some parts of it that... I know asking will lead to a conversation. It's... gods, it's probably some hour of the morning. It's probably not even late anymore, it's early."
"Fair enough."
It still takes us a minute or two to get clean, and I marvel at how this is still, somehow, new. It's been... over a year already, since we did this for the first time. We've showered together countless times since, and yet, it's still more thrilling than it has a right to be. I feel my skin burn when I notice him observing me, and I can tell he averts his eyes whenever he sees me looking, and I have to catch myself a few times before I try to convince both of us into going again. I might just never manage to get over the way he looks at me, and it's fantastic.
"Come on," he whispers after we're both done, closing the water tap. "You have to try the water. It comes from the lake, if you're wondering, but it's not cold."
"It's... steaming," I point out, with a yawn. "Won't it be too hot?"
He shakes his head and pulls me by the hand until our feet touch the strange, warm shore. It's not too hot. It's a bit more than I would have expected from water that supposedly comes from the lake, but... I've learned not to question neither the Citadel, nor Arkarian's chambers. He leads me towards one of the walls that contain the water, and I discover it has a bench along its length. As I sit down, however, it barely reaches my waist, so we walk in further, until it reaches my shoulders while I sit. Arkarian sits by me, the water reaching somewhere above his elbows instead, but I don't get to pointing it out because he passes an arm around my shoulders, and I lean into him, any other thoughts gone.
"This is nice," I muse, and he takes a deep breath before nodding.
"We shouldn't stay much longer, in case we fall asleep, but this is one of my favorite rooms in here. On good days, you can convince the room to show you what the outside looks like right now."
"What, really?" I perk up, but he yawns and shakes his head.
"You can always do that. The rooms are designed that way. I think Ethan once compared it to something from Harry Potter, and spent an entire afternoon trying to get the room to recreate it... the chambers are mercurial, though. They're not as easy to control as his own illusions, and he got frustrated after a while."
"How do you make it happen? I've seen them change, but I don't think I've ever done it myself..."
"You just... think it. If the chambers feel like it, they'll help you out. Often, if you ask for something generic enough, they will grant it without questions."
"Questions?"
"Form of speech," he waves the hand he has over my shoulder, vaguely. "But... you know. It's hard to get exactly the room you want, especially if you have a very visual imagination, like Ethan does. He always did, I imagine it's related to his abilities."
"Huh. So I could just...?"
"Well, give it a go."
He says that, but I can tell he doesn't have high expectations for the outcome. I frown, unable to decide if he really doesn't think they'll obey me, or if he's putting up a charade to taunt me. I know I'm easy to bait into doing things... He yawns again, and I realize he's barely reading my thoughts. He can't be taunting me. I hope.
I try to think about the outside. It was cold... It was snowing, right. Matt had made it so. For a while, nothing happens. The only thing breaking the silence are the quiet, small sounds of the water licking at the sides of the room. The light is dim, and the decor in the room gives it an intimate atmosphere that I really like. It's a pretty room, with walls painted in lilac, and tiled floor in soft cream tones. There are no patterns, only a slight ombre that fades into the depths of the artificial lake, where the light doesn't reach. I try to use my ability, but despite gaining a few more meters, the room seems to never end. I frown. Okay, room, keep your secrets.
Arkarian does snort at that thought, but he doesn't seem to be the only one amused with the idea, because soon enough, I realize there are... snowflakes in the air? I nudge Arkarian until he opens his eyes, and blinks, surprised. He looks up.
"Well, it's not exactly the sky, but there's definitely snow," he agrees, raising a hand to try and catch some snowflakes before they melt in the steam rising from the water surface. They melt on his fingers instead, and he uses his powers to keep a few and bring them closer, then letting them melt anyway. "Pretty!" he agrees, with a smile.
We watch the snowflakes fall around us, but eventually the silence and the water sounds lull us both back to almost sleep.
I'm too tired to actually do it, but I think to myself that, one day, I really want to go for a swim with him. And while swimming in the nude in the actual lake outside is more than a little risky, there's this fake lake in here, and I'm sure the chambers would lower the temperature enough to make it the best artificial pool known to humanity...
Arkarian pulls me closer then, and tilts my head enough to kiss me. I yelp, surprised, but I lean into him, though he pushes me to my feet soon enough.
"Let's go back," he suggests. "It's too late to stay in a hot pool doing nothing, even more if we're going to get distracted."
"Look who's distracted, I was just thinking...!"
"Whose fault is it though? Trust me, I know what you were thinking, Bells."
I roll my eyes at him.
"I'm naked now too. I've been naked for the past few hours. We don't need to go swimming for me to be naked."
"Yes, but that's hot too."
"That's ridiculous. You're ridiculous."
"Don't be silly, you were the one who thought about it first," he retorts.
I guess I can't very well argue against that... I sigh, and follow him out of the water. The air is cold around me now, raising goosebumps on my skin. I catch sight of my reflection, covered in more hickeys than I even remember getting, once we get back to the side of the room that looks more like a normal bathroom. I smirk.
"You wanna know what's hot?" I ask him, stopping him before he walks out of the room entirely. He turns around, eyebrows raised. I open my arms. "Have you seen this work of art? My boyfriend painted it."
It clearly takes him by surprise, pulling a laugh from him, louder than I'm expecting. It takes him a while to stop and get his breath back, and I use that time to find a fluffy towel to try and get the water off my skin and hair. I throw another at him, but with one look at me, it only makes him laugh more. I can't fight the smile off my face, either. I love watching him laugh.
Eventually, we go back to our room, still naked, and starting to get cold, mostly in silence despite the fact that he's still giggling to himself as he takes care of the fireplace. The flames explode for a moment, bathing the room with a wave of warm air, before dying down almost completely. Even then, I can still see some embers in there, but they're slowly dying down as well, and he joins me under the bedsheets soon after.
"Nap?" he says, his voice airy, carefree, breathless from laughter. It's one of the best sounds in the world, at least, until I register exactly what he's said.
"Nap? What kind of monster are you? I'm not waking up early on January first," I remind him. He snorts, and for a moment I fear he'll just start laughing again, but he shakes his head, cuddling closer until he's laying half on top of me. I start combing his hair back. It's wet, and it sticks to his scalp until I start running my fingers through it, hoping the warmth from the fire will be enough to dry both of us off soon.
"We can go back to sleep right after, but I'd like to see the sunrise. Feels like a good way to start the year... plus, sunrise is not that early, what with winter and all..."
"Well, you figure out when that is, but I can't promise I'll be able to wake up then."
"We still have a few hours until then," he assures me, once again displaying an uncanny ability to either know what time it is, and when the sun will be up, or to fake it well enough to make me believe it.
"Wake me up at your own peril."
"Bells?" he muses. I hum a question, but in the semi darkness, and having finally managed to get my ability to quiet down enough to let me sleep, I don't have the heart to search for his eyes. "I love you," he whispers anyway, unconcerned with details like seeing. I smile.
"I love you too, Arkarian."
He sighs, content and sleepy, and I realize I've never felt quite as I do when I hold him in my arms, and know that I've made him feel this happy.
I drift off to sleep and, like many times before and I can only assume just as many more in the future, I know I'm the luckiest person on this Earth, and I treasure it.
#
I wake up to Arkarian pressing kisses on my temple, on my cheeks, and whispering something I don't really decipher. The fireplace is lit again, orange light flickering in the walls, and I'm quickly reminded of the sunrise thing. I groan, trying to turn around and keep sleeping, but he doesn't let me. Once I'm awake, being aware of his presence is often more than enough to keep my attention, and he knows it, the asshole. He laughs, but he pulls me up until I'm sitting, and he offers me a pair of sweatpants that are definitely too big for me, and a sweater that smells absolutely divine. It's warm, and I realize he must have put it all next to the fireplace for a while before waking me up. When I finally open my eyes, the fire is low across the room, and he's already dressed as well. I let him help me into his clothes, noting the lack of underwear in silence, though not really bothered. I yawn.
"If you make me walk anywhere, I will probably cry," I warn him, and clear my throat immediately after, rough with sleep. His eyes crinkle as he smiles, and shakes his head.
He stands up to pick up something else from next to the fireplace, and I stand up next to him when he calls me, stepping into a pair of slippers he's left on the floor before me.
"Thoughtful," I murmur, meaning the clothes and shoes. He curls an arm around me.
"Ready?" he asks in a whisper. I nod.
"Let's go see your famous sunrise. It better be a good one," I mumble, and he huffs, and transports us.
We're outside, obviously, and the wind has picked up considerably since last night. My hair is not wet anymore though, and soon enough he extends the warm blanket he's just picked up around us, enveloping me in his arms and both of us in a fire-warmed cocoon. I melt against him, and he holds me. He shivers, but I'm almost asleep again in seconds, standing or not.
"Look," he mumbles before I can slip back into sleep. I hum a question. "Sunrise," he insists, and so I open my eyes.
He's right. The sun is almost starting to peek from the horizon, colors changing around the area in preparation. It's still a few minutes from that, though, so I take the chance to look around us. We're in one of the areas Ethan, Matt and I used to train together, a while back, not far from the place we used to travel into the Underworld that one time. The sky is easy to see from here, and I look for the spark of black in it, but it's long gone. As it should be. After a few more minutes, we look around ourselves for a rock big enough to sit on, and we shift there, though he still insists on holding me, so I sit between his legs, leaning against his chest so the blanket can cover both of us.
In the end, I think he misses the exact moment the sun appears in the horizon, because when I spot it and turn to look at him, I find him staring at me anyway. I nudge him.
"Look, here you have it," I point with my head. "The first sunrise of the year."
He smiles, nodding in silence. His eyes keep coming back to me, though, and I have the sudden, lapidary intuition that he's about to say something that's going to upend my life yet again. I think he probably notices me tensing up, because he laughs, and lets me turn around to face him, already breathless with anticipation.
"Arkarian, I swear to..."
"Move in with me, Bells," he interrupts me, and suddenly my heart is in my throat, threatening to jump right out of my chest. He simply holds my gaze, disarmingly sincere.
"W-what...?"
"Move in with me," he repeats. "I know that, now that Coral knows about this world, you're not in a hurry to move out, even though you're already eighteen, but..." he takes a deep breath. "You can spend every day at your home if you want, for as long as you can manage it without raising suspicions from your neighbors. But come back to me at night, please... I don't want to wake up without you ever again," he all but begs, close enough that I can almost kiss the words out of his lips. I think I'm trembling.
When he asked me if I wanted to be ageless, I hadn't even hesitated. When he asked me if I wanted to be in a relationship with him, I'd almost laughed. If he'd asked me if I wanted to marry him, I would have cried, and then said yes. This question, however, takes me by surprise, so much so that for a second the only thing I can do is stare at him. He waits, perhaps realizing my mind has gone entirely blank. He's looking me in the eyes, absolutely not helping with my thinking capacity. I open my mouth, but I'm unable to speak.
I want to say yes. I want to say yes desperately, with a passion I hadn't even realized I had about this issue. But as his words register in my head, as the possibility of sleeping by his side every night becomes a real, fully realized thing in my mind, I know there is no way I can go back to sleeping in what has quickly been recategorized as my old bed. The corners of his mouth twitch in amusement as he reads my thoughts, and the only thing I can think of doing is turning around fully and looping my arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.
He hums, a low, contented sound that contains so much relief I almost melt with him. His arms tighten around me, keeping the blanket around us like a shield against the world, and when I finally manage to pull away, the sun is finally high enough to reflect off of his perfect, beautiful eyes. It also blinds him a little, and I can't help but laugh, pulling him closer again so he can hide against my hair, which he does. My fingers are definitely trembling now.
"You want that?" I ask him, not because I don't believe it, but because I need to hear it again, make sure I'm not dreaming somehow. He sighs, presses a wet kiss to the underside of my ear, and judging by the way it tingles, right on top of one of the many bruises he's left the day before.
"I want that," he confirms after a moment. "So much, Isabel. But if you need more time..."
"Oh, don't play it cool. You're reading my thoughts," I groan, and he pinches my waist."
"Yes, but as it turns out, you're not thinking much right now. Which I'm really proud of, because surprising you is always a pleasure, but doesn't really give me an answer, does it," he says, and traps my earlobe between his teeth, gently, yet still managing to make me gasp.
"Don't be silly, of course I want to move in with you," I tell him, and just saying the words makes me shiver.
"Oh," he breathes, and if I'd thought he was relieved before, it's nothing compared to the way his body goes nearly limp against mine, as he lets me catch his weight for a moment. I don't mind... I'm fully awake now.
We stay like that for a few minutes. The wind has started to pick up, and it plays with our hair, slowly but surely making our blanket cocoon cool down. Eventually, I realize if we don't go back inside, my feet will freeze and fall off. I try to redirect some blood to them, but my body really would rather not waste heat on the ends of my extremities right now. I nudge Arkarian.
"Yes," he agrees, before I can even ask. "Me too, let's move back inside."
I manage to get a last glimpse of the morning sky, but then we're back in the room... gods, our room, I can't help but think. If Arkarian's sudden intake of breath is any indicator, he realizes it as well. He looks at me, slowly letting the blanket fall to the floor.
"Back to bed?" he suggests, innocently enough. I roll my eyes.
"I've never seen you go back to sleep after having woken up," I grumble, and he smiles, wide, so happy he actually sounds breathless when he next speaks.
"Then maybe you haven't stayed around in the mornings long enough," he suggests, and pulls on my hand toward the bed. I step over the blanket, and discard my slippers.
He trips over himself, falling back on the bed and pulling me along with him. Far from embarrassed, he laughs at it, and encourages me to sit on his lap, pressing kisses to my collarbones that make me almost dizzy, and I grab his hair as an anchor while he mouths at as much skin as he can get to around the collar of the shirt he's lent me.
"If this is how we're starting the year," I mumble when I notice his freezing fingertips inching up under the hem of the shirt. He slows down enough to listen. "Then we might have to keep it up the rest of the year, you know."
"They do say that whatever it is you're doing when the New Year starts, you'll be doing for the rest of it," he agrees, repeating my words from the night before. I laugh. "And I do distinctly remember we started it off kissing. So..."
He tilts to the side, making us fall on the bed and trapping me under him as he kisses me, and I don't bother putting up a fight. He kisses me deeply, strong, and sure, and he's mine, and I'm his, and this bedroom is ours.
The thought hits us both, really, and the feeling is so intense that we have to stop and simply... hold each other. Tight. Possibly never let go. The clothes I'm wearing smell of him, but the bedsheets under me smell of the both of us, and the room smells of burning firewood, and the mountain, and home. We might be under the mountain itself, but this is heaven.
We eventually manage to get back under the bedsheets, and get rid of all the clothes, but this time we know we just need to touch. To hold each other.
My mom is going to cry, Matt is going to pretend he isn't crying, hell, I'm going to cry too. But there is no doubt in my mind that this is what I'm meant to be doing. Not when this feels so right.
'Move in with me.'
How have I somehow not obsessed over this specific milestone before? I'm self aware, I can admit I've thought about all the cheesy stuff before. And who wouldn't? Our relationship is all but endless possibilities. Who wouldn't think about it? From the small things, like having our first kiss, to finally giving it a name, pet names, and learning how the other liked to have their tea, or coffee, or hell, just whether or not we like our salad with or without dressing, to the bigger steps like marriage, or children... Yes. Embarrassingly enough, it has all crossed my mind. And yet, the idea that we'd live together has been so obvious, that I have somehow never thought about it actually happening. Who would bring it up, or how, or when. It felt... so obvious, so simple. In a way, it is, really.
'Move in with me.'
'Yes.'
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Love,
~Lena