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Truer Words
By koinekid
Last night, she told him with her body what she couldn't say with her words. She longed to speak her feelings, but whenever she tried, her heart raced, and her face flushed so crimson that he once asked if she were sick.
He made a big deal of it, pulling her from the heat of the sun to an area of shade beneath the island's only palm, then indoors, making her sit at the table and drink a glass of ice water. She wanted to be upset, but his concern only made her love him more. Too bad she couldn't tell him.
But here, in a tangle of limbs and sheets, sweat-soaked, with evidence of the night's exertions all around, she seized her chance.
Leaning as close as she dared, she whispered—"I love you, Krillin"—then reverently kissed one of his incense burns.
"I love you too, Eighteen," he returned without opening his eyes.
Her heart soared, and to hide her jubilation, she sat up and crossed her arms. "No fair. You were supposed to be asleep."
He grinned. "Sorry."
"Don't smirk. It's unbecoming."
"Yes, dear."
"Smartass."
"Heh."
Word Count: 189
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