Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)
Even though he knew he'd had his face pressed into her hair for several minutes already, he couldn't bring himself to sit up.
Just a little longer, he told himself. Now that they were back inside, our of the wind and the snow, and he could process what had happened, it was hitting him just how serious the situation had been, and just how much danger she had been in out there.
Glancing at the fire again, he decided that another log would be a good idea... if he could convince himself to let go of Jane and stand up, of course. He knew that he should, though, because now that Jane was calm and he'd assured himself that she didn't need medical attention, he had a feeling that they'd both be drifting back to sleep soon. Or at least, he hoped they would. They would definitely talk about this… but not now. In the morning.
"I'm going to put another log or two on the fire, and then we're crawling back in that sleeping bag so we can go back to sleep," he told her, speaking into her hair quietly. Not knowing what to say, she just nodded. She still felt cold, and she felt emotionally – thankfully not physically – numb, as well as exhausted and very embarrassed. She would have berated herself for her ridiculous choice of actions, if only she hadn't been so tired – in every way a person can be tired.
Finally working up the willpower to move, he gently lifted her off of his lap, setting her down on his right side and then slid out of the blankets as carefully as he could. When he handed her the end so that she could wrap it back around herself as he stood up, he was already regretting his decision to move away from her, even though he knew that he had no choice. With two more logs now set on the fire to keep it going for quite a while, he crouched back down beside her.
"Do you need to lay out the blankets first again?" she asked quietly.
He nodded, and said, "Yeah, but not until I unzip the sleeping bag, though." He stood up, stepping off of the sleeping bag, and then held out his hand to help her up as well. Once she was standing off to one side, he unzipped the sleeping bag, unfolding it all the way, and stood up again. Standing close to the fire to keep as warm as she could, she handed him the blankets, which he quickly spread out and then motioned for her to lay down.
"Go ahead, you go first this time," he told her. She obligingly lay down on the inside of the fold, facing the fireplace, watching him as he sat down beside her, pulling the zipper up on the sleeping bag and gradually laying back as the zipper went higher, then carefully turning around to face her once it was closed.
After dealing with logistics for the past few minutes, now that they were both there, face to face once again, they just looked at each other. His expression was both stern and gentle at the same time, and she suddenly thought that maybe she would have to at least partially explain herself now, instead of waiting for morning. She supposed she owed him that much, but even so, she felt a knot forming in her stomach. The problem was that she simply didn't know where to start.
However, before she could say anything, he surprised her. Instead of asking for any kind of an explanation, which would have been perfectly within his rights to do, he asked simply, "Are you okay?" They were facing each other, and he reached his left hand up and pushed a strand of hair behind her hear, then moved his hand slowly to where her right hand rested in front of her, taking it in his and intertwining their fingers.
"I just…" she started, but that was as far as she got before her eyes closed and the words refused to come. A heavy sigh escaped her, and suddenly she had no explanation for her behavior. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It was stupid."
"You didn't answer my question," he told her evenly, his voice soft. When she looked up, she saw that he was still looking at her, now with even more concern than before.
Her eyes darted away, and she nodded, but it didn't look like she really meant it. "I had a dream," she said, so softly that he leaned forward to hear her better, finding their foreheads leaning against each other without having even meant to do so. He'd assumed that it had been something like that, but he couldn't figure out what kind of dream had made her think that going outside at night, in the middle of a blizzard, barely dressed, was a good idea.
"I was Taylor. I mean, I know that I'm not… but in my dream, I was…" Her face drew up in frustration, and she shook her head. "It's like I was her but also watching her and pretending to be her all at the same time, which I know doesn't even make sense…" He pulled their joined hands toward him, resting the back of hers against his chest over his heart. Despite the several layers of clothes, he hoped that she could still feel his heartbeat that way. He had a strong suspicion that she would remember what it meant.
She smiled at the gesture, but it was a pained smile. She opened her mouth to say something else, but then closed it again, her eyes closing and, if he wasn't just seeing a trick of the firelight, a few tears leaking out just before her head dropped forward, attempting to hide her face.
"Ssshhhh… come here," he said, releasing her hand so that he could wrap his arm around her. In one way, he certainly knew what she was going through, after as many years of anguished dreams about Taylor as he'd had. He was still so overcome with relief and concern, and all he could think of was reassuring her.
"Just promise me one thing," he said, leaning his face against her hair, her face now tucked into the crook of his neck. He couldn't help noticing that her hair was now only damp, not soaking wet as it had been before. "No more going outside in the middle of the night by yourself. If something exciting's happening outside, let me at least come with you." He'd tried to keep his tone light, but suddenly the anguish flooded his voice again. "When I woke up and you were gone…"
Of course, she'd been so distraught, so stuck inside her own head that she hadn't stopped to think about the fact that he would, of course, have flashbacks of Taylor's disappearance when he couldn't find her anywhere. This only made her feel even worse than she already had.
"I'm sorry," she said once again, leaning back to tilt her head up and look him in the eyes, feeling miserable at the thought of how panicked he must have been. "I didn't even think about that." It was his turn to nod slowly then. He was only now finally calming down from the fear and anxiety that he'd felt when he'd found her missing, and then as worried as he'd been when he'd found her outside in the snow.
His goal hadn't been to make her feel guilty, of course. "I want to talk about this more, but for now… let's get some sleep," he said soothingly. "Is that okay?"
"Yeah," she whispered, her eyes already closing. "No more going outside, I promise," she added, her voice barely making a sound. She felt him kiss her forehead, and she couldn't help but smile.
Her face had still looked sad, despite the smile that had crossed it after he'd kissed her on the forehead. He continued to watch her for a while, unable to convince himself to close his eyes despite how drained he felt. It wasn't that he didn't trust her not to suddenly leave again – he'd believed her when she'd promised not to go back outside. It was just that the fear of waking up to find her gone once more – as irrational as he knew that it probably was – kept him awake long after she'd fallen asleep again. Eventually, however, even he was able to close his eyes as well.
What felt like about five minutes later, Jane was suddenly blinking awake in a room full of sunlight. After being woken up in the middle of the night not once but twice, having had a terrifying nightmare and her little walk in the snow, morning had really and truly come much too early. Her eyes blinked open to find Kurt's arm wrapped around her waist tightly from behind her. She took a deep breath, the events of the night before flooding back to her just a little too quickly for her liking, and she felt the combination of exhaustion, guilt, embarrassment and shyness that she'd felt the night before return right along with those memories.
Turning slowly to look over her shoulder, she found Kurt looking straight at her, his face appearing just as bone tired as she felt. And yet, even though he wasn't exactly smiling, there was something else in his expression… something… peaceful was the only word she could find to describe it. Something in his eyes made her smile, despite the fact that she sort of felt like she'd been run over by a bus.
He loves you, stupid, the voice in her head said, the tone implying that it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which is not really news to anyone but you, of course… And since you love him, too… Well, that seems to work, doesn't it?
Maybe… she thought, storing that thought away for later. She wasn't quite sure if she actually believed it. Sure, you could argue that there was evidence, but…
Maybe you're just not ready to believe it, the voice told her, a little more gently, leaving her with that thought to ponder.
She shifted slowly, rolling over as best she could to face him. The next thing she noticed was that she smelled something. Was that—?
Sarah's voice floated through the air, and while she was obviously trying to be quiet, Sawyer kept replying to his mother just a little bit too loudly to ignore.
"Good morning," Kurt said in a voice even lower than a whisper. He wasn't quite ready to reveal to his sister that they were awake yet, and Sarah and Sawyer couldn't see their faces from their angle. If they were very quiet, they might be able to manage to have another few minutes to themselves. Jane smiled back at him, looking completely exhausted. Her eyelids had only opened halfway so far, and she didn't look like she was quite herself yet.
"I think the power's back on, which means we can either get up and eat breakfast, or… we can go back upstairs and go back to bed. What do you think?" he asked, again in barely a whisper, studying her tired face from close up and smiling in fascination. The night that they'd had hadn't been what he'd consider a good one, but the fact that he'd gotten to fall asleep and wake up with her beside him multiple times… that was certainly a silver lining. She looked tired and grumpy and overwhelmed by the events of the night… and she still looked beautiful.
"Mmhhmm," she murmured, not quite ready to form words. Then, trying to force a coherent sentence out of her mouth, she whispered, "I don't suppose you're willing to carry me back upstairs? Or is carrying only for when I go insane and find myself knee deep in a snowdrift that I'm nowhere near dressed for?" It was a joke, of course, and one at her own expense. She was attempting to make light of her actions the night before, since she was thoroughly embarrassed and ashamed, and she didn't know how else to deal with it. It wasn't that she thought he'd agree to it, but at that moment not having to walk up the stairs really did sound good – it had been worth a shot.
He chuckled quietly, then smiled at her and said, "I should probably carry the blankets, so that when we get up there, we can go back to sleep. Because I think I could use a few more hours… what about you?"
Just then she yawned loudly and unexpectedly, clapping her hand to her mouth in surprise. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, pressing his nose against hers for just a second before slowly leaning away from her just an inch or so and focusing intently on her face.
"Are you okay?" he asked, suddenly serious. "After last night…"
Looking down and taking a deep breath, she felt all of her emotions suddenly rising to the surface at once, and she didn't realize she was shaking her head until she felt his hand on her cheek and felt the sensation of the movement against his skin.
He regretted asking her if she was okay, because it only seemed to agitate her, but he really did want to know whether she was okay. It occurred to him how much of the trip he'd spent in his own head, focused on his own pain, and so much less aware of what she must be feeling. His feelings were valid, here of all places, of course, but he suddenly felt that he'd been behaving very selfishly. Silently, he promised himself that he would do better.
"Ssshhhhh, hey…" he said soothingly, now wishing he hadn't contributed to her seemingly more agitated state. His goal had been exactly the opposite, after all. Once again, as he had so many other times, he wrapped his arms around her and held on.
It was almost as though she wasn't even in control of her reactions to stimuli anymore. She felt herself shaking at the thought of the previous night, despite the fact that she told herself very firmly to stop and get ahold of herself. Of course, that was easier said than done for most people, but Jane prided herself on being able to push her emotions aside – it had been a matter of survival in the months when the CIA had held her, after all. Now, suddenly, it wasn't working anymore.
No, it seemed that there was an unfamiliar disconnect between her mind and her body, which didn't seem to be communicating just then. Her mind felt numb, and she was only vaguely aware of Kurt's voice, but not of what he was actually saying. She attempted to focus on one thing and one thing alone – the fact that he was now holding onto her tightly once again.
See? It's okay, the voice in her head told her, uncharacteristically kindly. She silenced everything else, and just repeated that line to herself over and over until she had gradually relaxed again.
Jane's sudden reaction seemed to get worse before it got better, and when he felt her start to shake in his arms, it just made him hold on tighter to her, murmuring quietly in her ear without even really knowing what he was saying.
Slowly, that seemed to work. She eventually relaxed against his shoulder, still not looking up at him but seeming okay otherwise. He almost didn't hear her when she whispered, "Sorry," once again – it was that quiet.
He leaned his cheek against her forehead and replied, as close to her ear as he could, "You'd better not be. I don't want you to get in the habit of apologizing for things you should not be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong. You always put so much pressure on yourself, and you don't have to. It's okay. It's going to be okay."
The sincerity in his voice made her eyes water. "No, I did do something wrong. I scared the hell out of you and I feel terrible about it," she said miserably.
"Did you do it on purpose?" he asked her kindly, already knowing the answer. He leaned back again so that she could see on his face just how seriously he meant what he was saying.
"No, of course not," she replied. "I just…"
"Then let it go. We're both okay, thankfully. You did scare the hell out of me, because I…" He thought about saying it, but it had still only been a few days, despite what it felt like. "…I care about you. A lot. I don't like to think about what I would do without you."
"You'd be alright. You did just fine the past few months, after all." It had slipped out before she knew what she was saying, and her eyes went wide with surprise and horror at her own words as she watched them sink in. She saw him wince slightly, and she wished more than anything that she could take them back. "I'm sorry, I… don't know why I…" she stammered quickly, now feeling even worse.
Dammit! she thought. What's the matter with me? She could feel her face crumbling and her insides suddenly felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. Stop it! she wanted to scream in her own face. Feeling like all she'd done so far since waking up was apologize, only to make things worse, she felt her face fall, and she looked back down, not wanting to look him in the eye.
Her words caught him off guard, and he could admit that they wounded him just a little, but he deserved it, and he knew it. He couldn't hold any of it against her. The fact that he hadn't been fine those past few months wasn't something that he could expect her to know, and he'd been doing a hell of a lot better than she had while he'd been treating her like the enemy.
"I wasn't fine," told her quietly, looking at her to find her watching him with eyes overflowing with guilt. "I treated your horribly, I know. Maybe it seemed like I was fine, but…" he shook his head. "That's part of the reason the thought of something happening to you scared me so badly. Because now I've finally realized that I wasn't anywhere near okay without you. I don't want to be that person. Not again."
She sighed heavily, shaking her head, now even more overwhelmed than she'd been when she'd woken up. It was simply too much to process.
His hand had been laying still on her back for a while now, and she'd almost forgotten it was there. When it started moving slowly in circles, for a second she was surprised. Once again she felt herself slowly relaxing, until finally she glanced up at him and smiled, looking into his hopeful eyes.
"Let's get up, so we can go upstairs and go back to sleep," he told her, turning slightly so he could kiss her forehead. Feeling a tug at her heart, she nodded tiredly. At least she knew that if she didn't open her mouth, she couldn't put her foot in it again.
He released her so that he could shift position and reach behind him to unzip the sleeping bag. They both sat up slowly, and when Kurt managed to get to his feet first, he helped Jane up as well, then scooped up the sleeping bag full of linens and pillows.
"Good morning, you two," Sarah called from the kitchen as they walked slowly in her direction on their way to the stairs. "Rough night?"
"You could say that," Kurt replied, his arms around the large bundle of covers. He wanted two things just then – to get upstairs with minimal conversation with Sarah, and to somehow make contact with Jane, which unfortunately he couldn't do because his arms were full.
"Did you guys go outside? Because I found a whole bunch of your wet hats and scarves and stuff… I stuck it all in the dryer, now that the power's back on again," she told him, looking confused.
"Oh, thanks. Yeah… that's… a long story. Or, longer than we're ready to tell just now," Kurt said. "We're just going to go upstairs and go back to sleep."
Sarah chuckled and shook her head. "Yeah, Sawyer did that, too. I really thought he was going to want breakfast, but no. He was seriously grumpy when he woke up down here – not too long ago, actually," she told them. "Though of course, I very much appreciate the fact that you woke me up so that we could sleep down here and not freeze in our rooms," she added quickly. "It wasn't as much of a party as it was when we were kids, but I do still prefer not to freeze to death in my sleep."
"Any time," said Kurt. "We'll see you in a few hours."
With that, they started walking toward the stairs again, with Sarah noticing just how close Jane was sticking to Kurt's side. It really was sweet. The poor girl looked like she hadn't slept at all, and Sarah wondered why in the world they'd been outside. She'd have to follow up on that with Kurt later, if she could get him to answer. That was the problem with having an FBI agent for a brother – it was almost impossible to get him to answer a question if he decided he didn't want to answer it.
Somehow they made it back upstairs, and Jane wandered into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her inside the bedroom a few minutes later, Kurt had discarded the sleeping back in the corner of the room once again, and was in the process of spreading the blankets back over the bed. He had just finished up, folding back the corner for them to climb in, and he watched as Jane nearly fell back into the bed, curling up on her left side facing the wall, trying to block out the light.
He chuckled at how cute she looked, then slipped out of the room into the hall. When he returned from the bathroom a minute later, he wasn't sure whether she'd already fallen asleep. After pulling the curtains more tightly closed on the window, he walked over and joined her in the bed, curling up behind her and smiling when she leaned back slightly against him.
"Still awake?" he mumbled into her hair.
"Mmmmmm," he heard her say without turning around. He couldn't help but smile. At this point it seemed like there was nothing she could do that he wouldn't find adorable. "Nope. Please leave a message at the beep." She was quiet then, and he just waited in amusement.
"Well?" he asked her a full minute later.
"What?" she asked in confusion.
"I'm waiting for the beep so I can leave a message," he replied with a grin. He could hear her laughing quietly and she swung her hand at him playfully, without turning around, but missing completely as he ducked out of the way.
"Go to sleep," she told him. "I'm so tired I think I'm delirious."
"Really? I hadn't noticed. You always act like this…" he told her, wondering if he was going to have to duck again. He hadn't been able to help himself though.
"Shut up!" she told him, still not turning around, and unable to control her laughter anymore.
Scooting closer behind her, he whispered, "If I promise to be quiet, can I stay right here with you?"
She felt the familiar flip flop in her stomach, and she knew a goofy smile had broken out across her face. Finally opening her eyes and glancing over her shoulder at him, she felt her heart melting yet again. The expression on his face was stiff competition for even the cutest puppy dog face.
"Yes, please do. Now sleep," she said, feeling her eyes close yet again. Even though it was morning, she was counting it as the fourth time they'd gone to sleep that night, and she was hoping that they would get at least a few more hours without yet another reason to have to wake up.
Just before she turned back around all the way, he kissed her cheek and then watched as her smile intensified, even with her eyes already closed. "Good night, again," he whispered into her hair after she'd turned around, his right arm around her waist, closing his eyes as well.
It was indeed several hours later, even though it felt like much less, when Jane began to regain consciousness. She was still groggy, but felt less like she'd been hit by a bus this time. The blankets were partially blocking her face against the light, and she wondered what it was that had awoken her. Laying still for a few seconds and taking in the status report from her senses, still not opening her eyes, she slowly became aware of a slight tickling sensation at the base of her neck, where it met her back.
She lay there for a moment, following what she realized had to be Kurt's finger moving gently across her skin, and realized that he was tracing the shape of the oil derrick tattoo. It was the one that came up the highest, peeking above the neckline of her shirt. Not wanting to be the cause of him stopping that particular movement, she attempted to lay perfectly still, unwilling to admit that she was awake for fear of deterring him.
"Good morning." His voice filled her ears and it made her smile, despite her disappointment that he'd figured out that she was awake so quickly.
"Good morning," she replied, rolling backwards slightly to look at him, and was rewarded when the fingers of his left hand brushed softly along her cheek. "I was trying to stay very still so you wouldn't know I was awake. I didn't want you to stop what you were doing."
"What? This?" he asked, putting his right hand on her right shoulder to push it forward a little more, the way she'd been laying before. This gave him better access to her back and, and he began tracing the same tattoo again.
You know, you have lots of other tattoos he could trace. They could keep him busy all day, the voice in her head whispered naughtily.
You hush, she thought immediately. Of course, it was the truth… but that was a little farther ahead than she was ready for. Than they were ready for.
Though she had forced the thought as far from her mind as possible, after it had occurred to her, she couldn't help but wonder if it had also occurred to him. Rolling onto her stomach – which she wondered if she was doing defensively, as a reaction to her rogue thought – and folding her arms under her head, she opened her eyes slowly and turned her head towards him. But there was no sign of anything but adoration on his face as he smiled back at her, and she relaxed once again.
She'd tensed slightly after he'd started tracing the oil derrick tattoo for the second time, and he wondered if something about what he was doing or the tone he'd used had been a little too much. He certainly hadn't meant anything by it, but this was uncharted territory, and with so much to work through, he knew that it was possible. But she'd said that she liked it, so he simply kept doing what he was doing, moving his fingers over the ink that was visible above the neckline of her shirt. It was both intimate and innocent at the same time.
Had he thought about the fact that that particular tattoo continued down her back, and of the hundreds of others on her body? It would be a lie if he said that he hadn't. After all, he'd seen them enough times to be almost as familiar with them as she was, and some of the ones that were in places she couldn't see as easily, maybe even more so.
But did that change anything? Not at all. He was perfectly content with what he was doing, tracing the small patch of tattoo that he could see above the neckline of her shirt. The rest of them… well, not that he didn't love the idea, of course, but he loved her far more than that. It was strange to think now that he hadn't been able to see that before, when it was so obvious now.
When she turned onto her stomach, he was fairly sure that her mind had gone exactly where he thought it had, and he felt a twinge of guilt. He certainly didn't want her to feel like she had anything to worry about, not even a little bit. So when she turned to face him and there was an almost shy look on her face, he focused on her with his most sincere smile, his fingers continuing their lazy movements. It wasn't an act, after all, so it wasn't difficult, and he saw the muscles in her face relax as she smiled back at him.
His left cheek lay against the pillow, his left arm folded underneath it, and he continued to watch her as she closed her eyes again. "Please don't tell me we have to get up again," she mumbled.
He chuckled quietly. It did seem like they were constantly having to get up almost immediately after having woken up, but not this time. "Not unless you're hungry," he said. "And really, in that case only one of us would have to get up."
"I'd rather we both stayed right here for now," she said softly, her eyes still closed.
"I can live with that," he told her. "I'll bring you breakfast in bed another day."
Did he really just say that? she wondered.
He swore he saw her blushing then, even though half of her face was pressed into the pillow. His statement had rather boldly declared his intention to find himself in bed with her on at least one future occasion, he supposed, upon reflection. It was just something that had come out of his mouth, without stopping to consider how it may sound to her ears. And yet, after this weekend, wasn't the possibility of them ending up in bed together again pretty much assumed? He liked to think so, after all…
In your mind, yes, the voice in his head replied, but you already know that she's a little skittish thinking about how things are going to be when you go home. She's not going to assume something like that. In her mind, that would be setting herself up for potential disappointment, and she has learned not to expect things from people. Even you. No, especially you. That's what the team taught her in the past few months. That none of you cared about her.
The thought hurt, but he knew that it was the truth. That was indeed what they'd taught her… and now he was going to change that. He liked to think that he'd already started to change it, and that the rest of the team had as well.
"I need to check the weather report today," he told her casually. "See how long this storm is supposed to last. Because no matter what's happening in New York today, there's no way for us to get back there. They couldn't even send a helicopter for us if they wanted to. Not in this." She just nodded, her eyes still closed. "And I suppose I'll have to call in and let them know that we won't be in today… or tomorrow."
Her eyes opened then, as she thought about what he was saying. "Were you planning to go into the office today?" she asked curiously. They'd never discussed the "after the weekend" logistics, only that the plan was to go home on the 26th.
"Well, it's not a long drive in good weather, so when I wasn't factoring in a storm I didn't think it would take all day to get home, and I figured I'd go in once we got back. Just to see what was going on. Maybe just for a few hours," he told her.
"Well, I guess that's not happening," she replied, not the least bit upset that their weekend had been extended. She liked her job, working with him every day and saving the world, as they'd joked in the past. But she'd just discovered that time off could actually be enjoyable, and not just empty. You just needed the right person there with you.
"Yeah, I guess not," he chuckled. "And it's not looking promising for tomorrow, either," he added. "Even if it stops snowing, there's the roads to worry about. Of course, out this way they're pretty good at dealing with snow, since they get a lot of it. Still, even if they get it cleared, we'll probably need to take the drive slower than the GPS thinks we can get there…" He paused for a few seconds, his fingers still moving across her skin, but leaving the tattoo to trail up her neck, which made her shiver. "But we'll deal with that when we see what things look like. Later… when we have clothes on."
She bit her lip at how that sounded, opening her eyes a little bit wider than before to look at him.
He grinned at her mischievously, winking, then pulled his face into an innocent what did I say? face. "What? We're wearing pajamas, aren't we? Well, I mean, I guess you did end up in sweatpants, which are not technically pajamas, but… Pajamas are considered different than clothes most of the time, right? So I'm not wrong when I say 'Later… when we have clothes on.' Right?" Shaking her head at him, she couldn't help but laugh as he grinned at her. Then, to clear up any confusion, he added, "Don't worry, that doesn't mean I'm going to be referring to 'the time when we didn't have clothes on.' At least… not in front of anyone else."
Lifting herself off of her arms for a second, she moved her left hand to try to swat at him playfully, because he was pushing it and he knew it. It was all to get a reaction out of her, but she didn't mind giving him one… not when she felt this happy.
"Good to know," she replied, shaking her head at him and then laying back down against her folded arms – that little bit of her self-preservation instinct still intact, still keeping herself safe.
His right hand moved back down her neck and came to rest flat against her skin where the top of the oil derrick tattoo was, the one that he'd now traced so many times in a row. His thumb came to rest on the left side of her neck and his other fingers on the right side, his arm simply laying down the center of her back. She couldn't have explained why, but the gesture felt like a promise of some kind. I'm here, it said to her somehow. Beneath the playful teasing, I hope you know that I'm here for you.
For a moment, she was overwhelmed by the emotion she felt, and the smile that spread across her face felt inadequate, even though it was so wide that it seemed possible that her face might crack open from the force of it. "I could get used to this," she murmured, only realizing afterwards, to her embarrassment, that she'd said it out loud and not just in her head.
At first she was flustered by her mistake, but up on reflection, there was really nothing to be embarrassed about. Being there with him, feeling so completely happy… she could get used to it. It was the truth, after all, so why shouldn't she tell him? She just wasn't used to making such admissions – especially after spending so long telling herself that she didn't need anyone else. She could now see just how untrue that had been. She'd told herself that she didn't need anyone, even believed it… because it hurt just a little less when no one was there for her. But that hadn't made it true.
Just then, his stomach rumbled loudly, and he glanced at the clock on the other side of the room. "What time is it?" she asked curiously, suddenly realizing that she was hungry as well.
"Almost noon," he replied. "We may actually need to get up soon. If nothing else, we will need to eat."
Sighing melodramatically, she started to turn slightly onto her right side to face him, feeling his arm on her back tighten and pull her slowly towards him.
"What do you think?" he asked her, "Can you make it through another day here?"
"Can you?" she asked him without missing a beat.
"I think I can," he replied without looking away.
"You mean we can," she corrected him, their faces once again very close together.
"Right," he agreed, "we can." He leaned forward and kissed her, his right hand moving up her neck into her hair, making her scalp tingle where his fingers made contact.
His stomach growled again loudly again, and they broke apart, both laughing, finally accepting the fact that they would have to get up. They started with sitting up, yawning and stretching briefly before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and put his feet on the floor. Once he stood up, he again offered his hand to Jane, helping her up.
"Such a gentleman," she said as she let him pull her up to her feet. She swore she saw a twinkle in his eye just then.
Of course she couldn't know how much he'd appreciated that comment. He liked to think of himself that way, especially when it came to Jane. He'd done so many things wrong with her, and he owed it to her to do things right as much as he possibly could.
Encouraged by her comment, in an exaggerated gesture he leaned down, taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips to plant a kiss on the back of her hand, his eyes darting up to meet hers just as his lips touched her skin. While she rolled her eyes and laughed, she also felt herself blushing once again… it seemed that she blushed quite frequently around him, and there was no sign of it letting up.
Just then, they heard another angrily growling stomach, but this time it was hers, not his.
"Come on," he said, keeping her hand in his and tugging her toward the door. "Time to eat." Then, turning around to stand in front of her mischievously and lowering his voice, even though there was no one else there with them, he added, "And put on clothes, eventually…" He winked at her, alluding to their earlier conversation, and she smacked him gently on the arm with the hand that he wasn't holding.
"You never stop, do you?" she asked.
Even more amused now by the familiar words, he raised his eyebrows playfully at her several times before replying, "I guess I don't. Just like someone else I know." And then finally, they made their way downstairs in search of something to eat. There was still a lot to talk about… but food came first.