notes: This one is a two parter. It's also pretty fluffy. oops.
timeline: post Chosen
Read My Mind, Pt. 1 of 2
Your ears were ringing the first time she kissed you.
You don't really understand how she can stand to listen to that noise for any extended period of time. But it's her birthday, and they're her favorite band. In town for one night only.
So that was how you ended up walking to the hospital. Faith just had to dive into the mosh pit, and of course crowd surfing was a must. And crowd surf she did. That is until someone dropped her.
And somewhere in the deafening noise and zero breathing room of the stadium, you were pick-pocketed, leaving you cashless and phone less. Hence the three-mile hike in the freezing cold to the hospital, because Faith's wrist is definitely of the broken variety.
You are going over some of highlights of tonight's funfest (the smelly pothead hitting on you and the smelly pothead then spilling his beer on your favorite top) when Faith wraps her good arm around your waist from behind and leans over your shoulder to kiss you softly.
You think that she probably did that just to shut you up, but the inside of her mouth tastes like cotton candy and you've always liked cotton candy. So the night is no longer a total bust.
She pulls away slightly, leaving her nose grazing your cheek.
"Thanks, B. I had a wicked good time."
"We got mugged, your wrist is broken and it's cold as a bitch out here." You point out, eyes still closed and no longer shivering because Faith's body is flush to your back.
"Yeah. That kinda sucked. But you're here. With me. So, I'd say it's a pretty good birthday so far." She drops butterfly kisses along your jaw and on the corner of your mouth.
"Happy birthday, Faith."
You held her uninjured hand all the way to the hospital.
It was one week and four days of awkwardness after the night she kissed you.
She wouldn't talk about it, so naturally, neither would you. And with a house full of hyper, screaming mini-slayers, avoiding wasn't a huge issue. But Willow and the others decided you needed the day off, and so you two are alone in an empty mansion.
The house used to bother you. It was too big, too dark. Too many rooms and passages and hallways to lose yourself in. But it's grown on you. Kind of like a certain fellow slayer.
You don't really know exactly how you got here, but what you do remember is that there was sparring involved, which led to tickling, which led to kissing.
You remember warm sunshine spilling onto the cool white sheets where you tasted her hot, sweat-slicked skin. You remember fingers on your cheeks while she writhed and arched beneath you.
You also remember the cool breeze on your naked back from the open window, and how she sounded when she whispered your name and clenched the sheets. You remember how everything smelled like grass and jasmines and Faith.
You remember she wouldn't let you touch her when it was over.