Tags: Fluff, Established relationship, light angst
Summary:
Liara savours a moment of peace as Shepard sleeps before reality drags them back to face the war with the Reapers.
She's here.
She is the breath that dances across the back of her neck. She is the arms that hold her tight. She is the legs that tangle with hers. She is the warmth against her bare back.
She's not somewhere else.
Liara sighs, a soft huff of contentment, savouring the respite granted by the goddess. Shepard shifts, arms pulling her closer, protective even in her sleep. A quiet murmur of protest, the first step of rousing to full awareness tickling the back of Shepard's throat. Liara hums a soft lullaby, one she had been sang to many times before, one that stretches back to her mother and her mother's mother and back further. Shepard huffs, her forehead rests against her back. Liara smiles, her finger dances across Shepard's arm, back and forth. Running them over smooth skin and raised scars, holding her breath, praying Shepard settles again.
She is here.
The lights are dim, her—their—quarters lit only by the blue leaching from the empty fish tank bubbling behind. The Normandy hums, singing its own calming drone. But in between all that, Shepard fills the space, not with her guns and armour, not with the stacks of datapads littering her desk or endless work she does but with her strength, with her presence, with the soft thump of her heart against her chest. This is what sustains Liara.
She is holding me.
If Piares will hear Liara's plea to stay her hand, to hold time still, to let Shepard rest, Liara will gladly pay any price. Alas, Piares is relentless, time marches on. Liara holds onto this feeling, the security she feels, the mix of Alliance soap and Shepard's natural musk, the solid weight of Shepard against her back. She will etch it into her mind, crave it into her memory — this one perfect moment in time.
She keeps me safe.
Shepard groans. Liara stiffen once more. This time Shepard's hug is more forceful, tightening with a strength that bellies her shorter stature, pressing her chest into Liara's back. Her voice was a tickle against Liara's ear. "Stop thinking."
"I'm not," came her plaintive reply, trapping Shepard's right hand against her bare chest.
"You are," Shepard rasps, her voice rough and husky, shifting her left arm over Liara's shoulder, seeking and finding her hand. Shepard squeezes it. "You're thinking too loudly. And you complain I never stop working."
Skin against skin, flesh against flesh, there is no space between them, and Liara still wants to close what little gap that still exists. Shepard presses her lips against Liara's back. A soft inhale as she snuggles in closer, tucking her chin onto Liara's shoulder.
Shepard is really here.
"Just close your eyes and sleep," Shepard whispers.
And Liara does. Piares willing there will be more times like this.