Something sweet. :)
Abbie stepped on her front porch. She carried a cup of tea. He smiled at her when she bumped his elbow and motioned to the cup.
"Good evening, Leftenant."
She sat it on the banister. "Hey, Crane."
He picked it up, blew before he sipped. "Rum?"
She nodded and took the mug from him to taste it herself. "We could use it."
"I couldn't agree with you more."
"Were you scared?" Her finger traced the spot where his lips were.
She was scared. She didn't know if The Hidden One would've tortured Crane or killed him or both. When she finally saw him, relief drowned her. They shared a quick hug and fist bump, but she needed them really process what could've happened.
"I was worried about you, Abbie."
"But were you scared?"
"As I expressed to The Hidden One, I am not afraid of death. The only thing I am terrified of is losing you."
Crane told her what The Hidden One said to him about their Witness lineage. She had a feeling he held back something though.
"Was there more?"
"He threatened to kill you, to torment you until your death. He wanted to watch you suffer." He slid the mug from her to drink. "That frightens me more than I can say."
She put her hand on his back. What could she say to him? Words wouldn't be enough for comfort. She stood behind him, imprinted her hands in his shoulder blades. She laid her head between them while she wrapped her arms around his waist. He tangled their fingers, tightened her grip around him. She sighed. He kissed her fingers.
"You mean so very much to me, Grace Abigail Mills. I'm the man I am today because of you."
He always could say things to create that warmth in her cheeks and that vibration in her chest. He meant a lot to her, too. She just didn't know how to say it, so she held him.
"You've changed me, too." She held him from the side now.
He lifted his arm over her. His arms wrapped her in him. Her head fell on his chest, and she glanced at him. His hand found her cheek; his finger skimmed her lips. His forehead leaned toward hers. As their lips nuzzled the other's, Abbie felt that warmth and vibration again. She put space between them.
"You want to finish the rest if the tea? It's still warm."
"No. Thank you though. You should finish it, Leftenant. I hope to seek warmth elsewhere." He held her stare, then looked into the front yard.
Abbie touched her lips, gazed into a tree. She didn't kiss him because she wasn't ready to. It would mean admitting she loved him. Knowing he could die at any second prevented her from falling further down the hole of her emotions for him. She didn't want him to give her all his love, only to have it snatched by the seven years of tribulation. She never wanted to rid herself of him. If she got too close, his death would wreck her. Distance was safe. However, she knew she couldn't deny him for long. The closer he got to death, the closer she wanted to shove her love to him.
"Maybe that warmth will come to you soon."
"Only time will tell."
"Yeah."
They both watched the steam from their shared mug, with Abbie pondering how well rum and tea would suite his lips and tongue.