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“Wait,” she whispered, trembling, unable to look at him in the eye.
He pulled back, sitting in perfect posture as she inhaled gulps of air, trying to get her bearings. He watched her, rapt yet patient, which both flattered and irked her at the same time.
“Aren’t you nervous?” She asked, which came out somewhat like a complaint, or a whine. Why did he have to be so composed when she was here feeling like she might crumble with anticipation and want; with the wish for it to be perfect and the frustrating fact that her body just wouldn’t obey her.
Look how much her fingers twitched. Look how her limbs flailed haphazardly, how she couldn’t seem to get to the right position. So much for elegance. So much for a beautiful, perfect first time.
She was starting to sweat and even though he sat mere inches away from her, it felt as if they were leagues apart.
He tilted his head, a gesture of his more animalistic side that he showed only to her. Then suddenly, though carefully, he took her hand. Guiding it, twitching fingers and all, to his chest, to the place where his heart resided beneath.
Her palm landed softly on the pale porcelain skin, so cold-looking yet warm to the touch.
“... Oh.”
Her eyes widened a fraction, and just like that her breathing became easier.
There under the sturdy, battle-hardened muscles, behind the illusion of perfection; his heart thrummed like a thousand drums of war. As if there was a storm wrecking beyond what the eyes could see, as if his outer cast that looked so calm and controlled was his last standing stronghold.
“Of course,” he whisper-hushed, and only then she saw how his stripes seemed to deepen in color as if he was blushing, how his eyes flicker-sparkled with that mixture of yearning and curiosity and shared hesitation. “My heart is about to burst.”
She felt a huge load she didn’t know was there lifted from her body. She felt her lips tugged into a feeble, trembling smile, getting wider, wider ... and then she choked on a chuckle.
He peeked at her from behind thick eyelashes and she thought he was smiling, too. She pulled him back to her, engrossing in his warmth, his tingling energy, his silk soft hair, his almost wet armpits, his not-so-steady breath. Him.
Hers.
“Then, let us fall apart, together.”
The night was tender, and between them, it stretched like a bottomless, blissful dream.