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Interlocking

Chapter Twenty One: Making Time

"Her fingers grip his neck to her tightly and she hears him sigh against her hot skin." - Krem and Harding find each other in a world torn apart. A story told in brief glimpses.

The Chargers and most of Harding's scouts are already asleep when she finishes her debriefing with the Inquisitor. She sighs as she pushes aside the flap of the tent's entrance and walks into the warm night. The sentries are making their rounds across the dunes near their camp at Craggy Ridge. Harding is surprised at the unexpected and random gusts of wind that blow through the Western Approach's night sands.

She wipes a hand across her face and looks around the nearby campfire. There is only Krem. She blinks at his form as he sits on a log before the fire, his face to the flames, his arms resting over his knees. She cannot help the smile that spreads across her face at the sight.

His brows are drawn taut in concentration, his lips parted slightly, the flames casting his tan skin in rich and orange light. Everything else is shadow. He looks up at her approach, shaking the thoughts from his mind, his face suddenly alight. She reaches him as he sits up straight.

"Were you waiting for me?" She narrows her brows at him and wonders how the thought can excite her so.

He chuckles softly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Yeah." He levels a longing look her way. "Haven't had much time. You know, you and me."

Harding steps closer so that he can wrap his arm around her waist and hold her beside him as he gazes up at her. She lights a hand along his chest, her other arm looping around his shoulders, and she looks down at his face to find it earnest and hopeful. She smiles, and the nearby firelight flickers across her freckles in a way that makes Krem anxious to press his lips to them, to feel the warm and soft skin of her beneath his mouth.

"I know," she answers, her fingers drumming lightly against his chest. She looks down to where her hand rests. The sight is so foreign and unfamiliar, and yet, nothing has ever felt so right. "I'm sorry," she offers sincerely, her mouth forming a frown.

Krem shakes his head, his arm holding her closer. "Don't be. We've each got a job to do. We knew this going in."

"Still…"

Krem chuckles good-naturedly. "Still, you just want to ravish me, that it?"

She thunks him on the chest, laughing. But her own smile is blinding and spreading across her cheeks. "Not if it meant blowing that ego up any larger."

"And if it didn't?" His voice is smooth and low between them.

Her cheeks grow warm and she cannot take her mind from the feel of his hand holding her to him as his arm rests lazily around her. The feel of his fingers playfully and absentmindedly running along her hip. She pulls in a steadying breath and moves her hands to cup his cheeks as she leans in closer, boldly, excitedly. "Play your cards right, Mr. Aclassi."

She can see the heavy rise of his chest as he watches her, the flicker of desire in his eyes as his gaze travels to her lips. She smiles devilishly and leans closer, pressing her mouth to his. He is hesitant to respond at first, having wanted to let her set the pace of their intimacy. But when she moves her lips against his, and touches the tip of her tongue to his lips, he sighs into her mouth and opens to her. Their mouths slide against each other heatedly, needfully, with the quiet breath of desire. Something searing and unnamable coils tight in each of them. His tongue pushes against hers teasingly, the soft rumble of her moan felt between their kiss and he must get closer. He breaks the kiss momentarily, and Harding is questioning and panting, when he moves his knee to the other side of her so that she is standing between his legs, facing him.

His other arm comes up to join the one already wrapped around her waist and he pulls her to him. She laughs at his eagerness, stumbling into him, her hands falling against his chest, the heavy metal of his armor cool to her scorching skin. "Impatient, are we?"

He only growls playfully, moving his mouth up to meet hers and he has her bottom lip caught between his teeth. He nibbles lightly, and swipes a tongue along the lip before delving in once more. She sighs at the intrusion, her own tongue meeting his, her words lost and drowned between their slick mouths. She winds her hands around the back of his neck and presses further into him. They are lost to each other for several moments. There is only heat, and the slow exploration of his hands along her sides. The sound of their mouths, wet and smacking, as they find each other. Harding's breath is labored and heavy in her chest when she finally pulls away.

Krem follows her instinctively, his eyes fluttering open when he wonders at the sudden loss of her heated tongue in his mouth. He blinks as he watches her lick her lips, trying to reign in her breathing. His fingers dig into her hip tightly and a low sound rumbles up her throat as she closes her eyes to the sensation.

Krem could watch her all night.

She opens her eyes and immediately her gaze falls to his full and moist lips, breathes away from hers. A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth.

They simply watch each other in silence as they attempt to calm themselves. Harding's fingers play along the nape of his neck as she tries to speak. "I wish we had more time. For us. For…things like this."

Krem cocks his head back to look at her and links his hands behind her back, so that she rests against his chest. Her face is everything light and promising and open above him. It makes the breath tight in his chest. "So do I, love." He places a soft kiss along her mouth, just the barest hint of warmth and then he is pulling back and watching her again. "But we'll make time. When all this is done."

Her gaze is wary and hesitant as she pulls her lip between her teeth. "That could be a long while, Krem."

He nods, sighing. But his smile does not waver. "It's possible."

She swallows thickly. "Could you wait that long?"

His eyes are warm and dark and everything she is needful of right now. His voice is a whisper between them. "I could. And I will."

She pulls her mouth tight, her breath aching in her throat. "However long it takes? However long this mess of a world might take to right itself?"

He releases a soft chuckle as he watches her. "The world couldn't be right without you, Lace. That's worth waiting for."

She must look away or the heat will overtake her. She blinks wildly, licking her lips in anticipation. "Smooth talker," she mumbles lowly.

Krem's lips are at her neck and her heart stills in her chest. "But you love it," he breathes between kisses, his lips against her jaw, just below her ear.

Harding tries to steady her breathing but it is pointless. Her fingers grip his neck to her tightly and she hears him sigh against her hot skin. "I do," she releases on a ragged breath, helpless, her eyes fluttering closed. "Maker, but I do."

Krem hums a soft approval into her neck and slowly pulls back to watch her face.

She opens her eyes to his and releases a half-laugh, half-snort. "The things you do to me." She is shaking her head.

He smiles blindingly. "Give me time. I can do more."

She rolls her eyes. "Now I'll never get to bed."

He runs his hands up her sides to her shoulders, and then rubs along her arms. "Something to look forward to then."

She pulls away just enough so that she isn't pressed to his chest. They still do not release their hold of each other. Her gaze is suddenly thoughtful and wary. "You're with the Inquisitor tomorrow, right?"

He smiles proudly. "Yes, ma'am. Storming Griffon Wing Keep. The Chargers have been itching for some more Venatori action since our run-ins this afternoon."

She finds it easy now to share his pride in the Chargers, her own smile making its way across her cheeks. "Then make me proud." She thinks of the morning he saw her off to Crestwood, the same words he asked of her.

He moves his hands to her wrists and pulls her loose hold from his neck. Holding her hands up to his mouth, he places a quick kiss on each before smiling up at her. "Always."

Harding watches the keep from a distance, nestled safely in their camp at Craggy Ridge. She cannot make out anything from the stoic, silent fortress. Not from this distance. She cannot hear the shouts and grunts. Cannot see the swing of blade and rush of spells. Cannot gauge the turns of the battle. Cannot feel the pump of blood in each of their veins as they advance on the Venatori forces.

She cannot know where Krem stands in all of it. The blood and the quickness and the harsh sling of death.

Harding bunches her hand in her leather tunic, where she feels her heart thudding violently in her chest.

It becomes harder each day to see him off with a smile in the midst of this war.