Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon and co.
Unusual
By Bohemian Storm
It's almost
unusual how quiet and soft she feels when she's with him. She feels like one of
those old paintings; the ones with nude women sprawled out, eating fruit, proud
of who they were. He touches her arms and her stomach,
his mouth pressed against the line of her ribs, following the muscle of her
abdomen into the swell of her breasts. She stops feeling empty when she's with
him.
She'll never admit it. He'll never ask her to say it. She likes it that way.
He does stupid romantic things like trying to feed her strawberries while
they're in bed. She thought she might like that at one point, but coming from
him it's almost ridiculous. She ate the first one, kissing him hard so he could
taste it in her mouth, but pushed the second one away.
'What are you doing?' she'd asked, rolling toward him. 'Don't feed me, just
kiss me.'
'You didn't come for dinner?' he'd asked, smiling at her.
'Bite me,' she'd whispered and he had.
When his fingers slip into her hand, touching the palm and tracing patterns on
her skin, she can feel things she's never felt before. At first their times
together had been hard and rough, like both of them. She was hard and rough,
and so was he. Parts of him, at least. Now they're more gentle and she doesn't even want to think about why.
It's a scary thought, to think about falling in love. Falling
in love with him, of all people. She wants to ignore that. Falling in
love is so accurate, she thinks, because it really is falling. It's being
helpless. Trusting. She doesn't know how to do that.
It is unusual, she thinks, that she even knows what love feels like. She never
thought she would.
End