Silence
The sheets were light over clean bodies, bathing the two forms with a thin layer of cool comfort. The mattress whined as one body turned, rolling to face the other—warm, smooth skin caressing as each person exhaled into the crisp air of the night. Lips grazed against a flushed neck and a soft noise filtered into the air. Pleasant whispers of approval pressed like a feather to the other's ear—saying nothing, but humming everything.
No words needed to be spoken and neither needed to press this further. Dark hair splayed across the pillows while a pair of hands brushed mismatched fingers through the silky locks. They existed to clash—to collide and spark—and even here, where their silence called a truce, they trembled at each other's fingertips for passion. The heat of their bodies wasn't overwhelming, but enough to keep the chilled air from sliding between them.
They didn't need to claim each other's bodies to claim each other wholly. When the wind shifted they'd both be gone and that scene would too; but for the moment, they remained entwined in the silence of the dream.