Note: And here's the first of the requests! I'm doing these in no particular order, soooo...
The original request from candygirl52793: I would like... a sweet, romantic drabble of Alek and Deryn lying in bed late at night contemplating... life? Haha, you choose specifics.
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It's a small pleasure – a dark quiet room, a soft cool bed at the end of the day. And someone beloved to share it with her.
She settles herself beneath the sheets. Burrows in. Soundless, he puts an arm around her waist, gathering her closer, curling against her, her back to his front. She laces her fingers through his where they rest over her stomach. In the dark and moonlight, against the white linens, their skin is reduced to silvered shadows.
She can't think of a better way to finish today than curled up with him. He's warm and solid against her. Familiar. A comfort. Her breathing slows to match his as her eyes adjust to the darkness.
Tired but not quite ready to slide into sleep, she admires the way their fingers look, woven together like this. His are long and clever, all knuckles and blunt square nails; hers are nearly as long, at once more callused and more dainty – although she could stand to scrub better under her fingernails.
Everything about the two of them fits just right: hands, bodies, hearts, minds, lives.
She closes her eyes and sighs. Content.
"Do you ever wonder," he says softly, breath stirring the hair just behind her ear, "at how perfectly unlikely this is?"
Her eyes open. It's not quite mind-reading, but close enough to give her a little jolt. "You and me?"
He makes a small noise of assent.
"Sometimes I do," she admits. Oh, yes, sometimes she does wonder. She marvels. She falls on her knees and thanks God for the miracle that has put them together in this quiet room, in this hallowed bed, where they can keep each other awake until late at night, asking daft questions.
Just now she lightens her tone and adds, "But then I tell myself not to be such a ninny. Of course we ended up together."
He smiles. She can feel it against her shoulder, hear it in his voice: "Yes. Of course we did."
"Some things are meant to be, aye?" she says, toying with his fingers. "We're one of them. Any fool would know that."
"So I've heard," he says, tightening his grip on her hand. "And I couldn't agree more."
His mouth moves over her neck, warm and gentle, lighting a slow fire under her skin.
She closes her eyes again. Smiles.
It's a small pleasure – and someone beloved to share it with her.
