But she worried. It niggled at the back of her mind. Keep him away. Keep him at arm's length. Don't let him inside. You're a cancer. You break everything you touch. Keep him away. Keep him safe.
And she couldn't.
He pulled back from her, his hand on her cheek, his fingers trailing along her jawbone and she tried to close her eyes, tried to shut him out, tried to make this just a thing she did for fun. Just a kiss, just a frak. Just some frustrations that needed to be let out. But when she opened her eyes she was lost in his. He leaned in and kissed her and she kissed him back, one arm wrapping around his neck, the other trailing low around him, pulling him tighter.
Gods, but she felt alive. Alive and bright and safe. Safe except that he would be taken away. The gods would find him. She was like a beacon, marking out destruction. And then he would be gone.
She pulled back from him with a shuddering breath and rested her forehead against his, their eyes closed. His fingers were playing in her hair, across the bruises on her face, behind her ear. He placed a gentle kiss against the bridge of her nose, just where it was busted and she winced. She welcomed the pain. She revelled in it. Make this painful. Make it hateful. Don't love it. Don't live for it. Make it something else. Don't need it. If you need it, they'll take it away.
And so she took a breath and wrapped her heart in Sam. This was wrong. She was treating Sam badly. This was not allowed. Make it wrong. Make it wrong. Make it wrong. But his breath against her skin, his hands in her hair, the way his heart thumped so hard she could feel it in her bones. It was oh so right.
His lips trailed against the sensitive skin beneath her ear and suddenly Sam was like a paper window trying to hold back a hurricane.
"Lee," she breathed against his ear.
And his legs began to give. He sat down hard on the floor, pulling her with him, straddling him and they both cringed as their tender places scraped and banged, but they laughed and laughed and her heart felt lighter than it had in years when she captured his lips in another hungry kiss. She'd been handed the sun, breaking through the clouds and playing across her face. How funny she'd never realized before that that's what he was--the sun god. How it made her want to cry.
And then she decided, and a tear dropped onto her cheek, brushed away by his thumb and his kisses like a ray of sunshine evaporating her sorrow. Screw fate. Screw the gods. Screw it all. Take the sun with both hands and don't stop to think how it burns.
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timeasmymeasure
Burns and Bruises, PG-13 2/2
Date: 2011-11-24 03:56 am (UTC)And she couldn't.
He pulled back from her, his hand on her cheek, his fingers trailing along her jawbone and she tried to close her eyes, tried to shut him out, tried to make this just a thing she did for fun. Just a kiss, just a frak. Just some frustrations that needed to be let out. But when she opened her eyes she was lost in his. He leaned in and kissed her and she kissed him back, one arm wrapping around his neck, the other trailing low around him, pulling him tighter.
Gods, but she felt alive. Alive and bright and safe. Safe except that he would be taken away. The gods would find him. She was like a beacon, marking out destruction. And then he would be gone.
She pulled back from him with a shuddering breath and rested her forehead against his, their eyes closed. His fingers were playing in her hair, across the bruises on her face, behind her ear. He placed a gentle kiss against the bridge of her nose, just where it was busted and she winced. She welcomed the pain. She revelled in it. Make this painful. Make it hateful. Don't love it. Don't live for it. Make it something else. Don't need it. If you need it, they'll take it away.
And so she took a breath and wrapped her heart in Sam. This was wrong. She was treating Sam badly. This was not allowed. Make it wrong. Make it wrong. Make it wrong. But his breath against her skin, his hands in her hair, the way his heart thumped so hard she could feel it in her bones. It was oh so right.
His lips trailed against the sensitive skin beneath her ear and suddenly Sam was like a paper window trying to hold back a hurricane.
"Lee," she breathed against his ear.
And his legs began to give. He sat down hard on the floor, pulling her with him, straddling him and they both cringed as their tender places scraped and banged, but they laughed and laughed and her heart felt lighter than it had in years when she captured his lips in another hungry kiss. She'd been handed the sun, breaking through the clouds and playing across her face. How funny she'd never realized before that that's what he was--the sun god. How it made her want to cry.
And then she decided, and a tear dropped onto her cheek, brushed away by his thumb and his kisses like a ray of sunshine evaporating her sorrow. Screw fate. Screw the gods. Screw it all. Take the sun with both hands and don't stop to think how it burns.