"Hey, are you ready to…?"
She stops, noticing that he is asleep, the book he had been reading resting on his chest, the pages crumpling a bit between his fingers. His long legs are slightly bent at the knee, pressed up against the back of the sofa, leaving a small amount of room for her to sit on the edge of the cushion below his hip. She settles carefully, not wanting to wake him, instead wishing to observe him in his quiet slumber. In Neverland he never really slept, merely dozed between guard shifts, body always tense and alert like a cat ready to pounce without warning. But now, he was defenseless, peaceful.
He looks years younger like this, the worry lines smoothed, the tense set of his jaw relaxed and the slight curve of his lips forming a gentle smile. She itches to reach over and trace his lips with her fingertips, curious if he would instinctively lean into her touch if she was to press her palm lightly against his cheek. In the past few weeks they had settled into a new place, full of casual touches and absentminded kisses, their bodies craving the simple contacts they had both been missing for so long. In repose, would he still reach for her in the same way?
As she watches him sleep, she silently hopes that he is as happy as she is in their life together as it is now; a partnership that's strengthens as each day passes. Her heart begins to race as she contemplates all that he means to her, all that he has become for her, her strength and her comfort, her best friend and confidant, the man she has somehow fallen completely in love with. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, willing the fear at this realization to not take hold. She doesn't want to run anymore, not from him, from them.
When she opens her eyes again she sees that he is now awake, his eyes searching hers as the worry lines on his face begin to appear again. He begins to shuffle as if he is going to sit up and she places her hand over his chest to stop him, gently prying the book from between his fingers so she can set it on the floor. She pushes lightly on the side of his hip until he catches on to her intention, his body shifting further into the back of the sofa to make room for her. She can feel his eyes on her as she leans down to unzip her boots, his hand now resting lightly atop her thigh, his fingers flexing slightly against the denim.
She turns back to him and smiles, shifting her position to her other hip so she can stretch out beside him, his body molding to hers automatically as if they had done this many times before. Her head comes to rest on his shoulder as her arm reaches for his from his side, tucking his hook under her palm over his heart. His free hand on her waist tightens as their legs tangle together in the tight space, sparks igniting as new, undiscovered contacts are made for the first time. She can feel his racing heartbeat begin to slow as she relaxes further into his arms, his hand now holding her firmly against him with a gentle pressure between her shoulder blades. Tears start to form behind her eyes, suddenly overcome with emotion at the comfort of being held by someone who loves her, realizing he hasn't known this feeling in more years than she has been alive. She leans in to press her lips softly against his neck at the exact moment she feels his caress her forehead, unsurprisingly that in this, as in all things, they fall perfectly in sync.