Does anyone read DA fanfic anymore? I've been out of the game for years now so I have no idea if anyone's still around. I just unearthed this in my drafts today. I'm sure it was once meant to be the beginning of something bigger, but I don't see myself going anywhere with it now. Even so, I think it stands well on its own. It actually made me proud looking at it (as opposed to some published things of mine that make me cringe so hard) so I thought it deserved its moment. Be well and safe all who see this!
xx,
ejb
He is reading when she comes in from fussing with the roses. Sat in his armchair, heavy-rimmed reading specs perched on the end of his aquiline nose.
She brushes her palm across his shoulder as she walks by. Muscle and bone moving beneath soft fabric. Oxford blue, worn to perfection. He catches her hand in his, brings it to his lips, kisses the back of it. Pulls her closer.
"Hi," he says softly, looking up at her over his readers. Eyes the same shade as his shirt. Soulful, forthright. Devoted. Something tightens inside her heart, deep within her belly. He is here. That shouldn't be a revelation, two years married, but she hopes the wonder of it never dies. He is hers.
And she is so very much his.
"Hi," she answers, stood between his knees. She drops into his lap. Intimate. His arms come around her waist from behind, his soft breath warm on her neck. Warmth. Surrounding her. She closes her eyes, lets it seep into her bones. They are breath and flesh and warmth and love. His lips graze the gentle curve of neck into shoulder. Sharp inhale, tiny unchecked moan. His mouth curving into a knowing smile she can feel.