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“Sweet dreams, Miles.”
“Only if you’re in them.”
“That was…corny.”
“Hey, you gotta admit, that was kinda smooth.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
As her eyes fluttered close, the silhouette of his face blurred into darkness as exhaustion swept over her. It wasn’t long until she felt a brush of warmth ghost over the side of her face. Static crept over her parted lips before she felt the pad of Miles’ thumb come to rest on the curve of her cheek.
Her eyes shot open, a hiccuping chill traveling down the length of her legs to her toes.
Miles reeled back as their eyes met—molten golds and browns clashing with a frigid blue.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“ He blurted, hands fumbling with the blanket as he tore it from his body with the intention to stand and leave.
“No, it’s ok.” She reached for him, her hand closing over his arm to stop his departure from beside her. “I’m just not used to being…“ She trailed off, a searing heat flaring in her face as she racked her brain on how to finish that sentence without implicating herself.
She was privy to unkind touches. It came with the territory. So, to know such a loving one was new —delicate, tender and soothing. Her skin burned where his fingertips rested on her face just moments before.
She wanted more.
“Sorry, I, uh,” He cleared his throat, and pulled his arm away from her. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I—yeah, I think I'll go and sleep on the couch.” He moved to sit up, his head leaving the pillow, but she caught his wrist, moving to sit up with him.
“Miles,” She started, her voice pathetically cracking, as if the words sticking to the back of her throat were chasing her breath away. “you don’t have to go.”
Stay.
Touch me again.
Please.
Through the darkness of his room, she could vaguely make out his features softening, his lips pulling down, and his eyes lowering to look at her, and suddenly she felt showered in starlight.
He released a stout breath before lowering himself back down beside her, his head fitting back into the indent he had left on the pillow they were sharing.
Somehow, he felt closer. She could feel his breath tickle her face—minty from toothpaste, and coconut from what she could only assume was the balm that lightly glossed his lips.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered so softly it was almost akin to a sigh.
“Don’t be.” The words rolled from her tongue before she could shield her apprehension. He was edging closer, the lovely smell of him enveloping all her doubts. Sending them far away, out of reach. But he was within her grasp, and she wanted to hold him in her hands. Gently. Fiercely.
For as long as he would let her.
Let it be longer than she deserved.
“Is this…” He swallowed hard, reaching his hand up between the small space between them, his fingers barely brushing her temple. “Can I?”
“Yeah.” Was all she said, and his hand caressed her cheek. She shuddered under his touch, his heat cutting into a lucid chill that wracked through her body. His thumb brushed her skin lightly—up and down before coming to rest at the corner of her lips.
An intense yearning—unfamiliar, yet invigorating—bubbled somewhere deep in her chest, ready to burst through.
Gwen held her breath, and his gleaming stare as she turned her face into his palm, closed her eyes and grazed her lips against the pad of his thumb. She was caught in the turbulent sensation of his skin against hers—
Her head was gently tilted up as his finger and thumb caught her chin.
He moved closer. She was scared. Scared he wouldn’t stop. Scared he would.
“You can tell me to stop.” He swallowed again. “I’ll stop.”
She couldn’t find her voice long enough to say anything. Maybe her heart, violently pulsing, twisting, and convulsing as if she had been electrocuted, could speak for her.
It could tell him she was petrified they were about to start something they shouldn’t—all the good things that existed in their friendship would rot away in what would sit unfulfilled between them–a good thing–the best thing she ever had–sullied by a single, pathless kiss.
She had to ask if it would be worth it. Would relenting only make it worse? If she pulled away now, told him to stop, could she put the unsettled desires to rest in a place they could never emerge? Could she be strong against the invincibility of temptation long enough to keep her hands to herself? Keep them from reaching for him, catching his hands in her own—memorizing every callous, every faint line of scars he couldn’t recall as she gently traced them. Hands splayed across his back, feeling his muscle chords shift as she pressed her fingers into bare skin. Hands in his hair, fingers curling into the tight coils, to pull him closer. She wanted him to be closer, and she could use her hands to draw him into her. She could use her hands to push him away.
Far away.
Where temptation couldn’t reach them.
So she could keep him, but never in a way that would relieve the ache.
And it hurt–but the subjection no longer felt worth the pain.
She was so, so tired.
“No.”
When she found her voice, it was small, and smothered by an intangible fervor.
Miles paused at the single word, his eyes opening wide and meeting hers. She could feel his breath against her pursed lips before she heard it hitch. She felt him shift away from her, and her hands, tucked against her chest, reached across the sliver of space between them and held either side of his jaw.
“Don’t stop.”
It was a blur of subtle movement. She was unsure if she pulled him into her, or if he sealed the margin that separated them, but all at once she could taste him.
Coconut.
Mint.
Sweet, savory amber.
He was, all at once, completely and perfectly undoing.
Miles’ pillowy soft lips drove deeper into her own as she held fast to his face—breathing in deeply, slowly—following the momentum of his mouth as it slid over her parted lips.
It wasn’t enough. Will it ever be enough? Was it so wrong to need him closer?
Their chests pressed together, their legs tangling under the blanket as one of his hands stayed secure to the soft curve of her blushed cheek and the other slipped under her head. She eased into his hold as warmth spread across her scalp, where her hair was still slowly growing back—where his fingertips settled.
She would need to cut her hair soon. It was getting longer with every passing day. The memory of him was growing out, and she couldn’t let it go another inch–she couldn’t let him go.
The sentiment seemed shared when she felt something slick and soft line the opening of her lips.
She recalled seeing this in a movie before. Some cheesy romance flick Glory made her sit through. At the time, she thought it was gross, but now?
Gwen welcomed the silent permission to deepen the kiss—to taste a little more—go a little further. She could go that distance. She would traverse it all. He didn’t even have to ask.
The moan that stuttered from the back of her throat when his tongue brushed with her’s was unintentional, but it seemed to speak to him better than she could through every breathless gasp. Miles’ fingers curled into her blonde locks, his nose pressing flush below her eye—his mouth moving with hers like a dance he was leading. An exchange of breath as if it was a gift they had to give back to one another. She filled his lungs and he filled hers—until they were overflowing, spilling over and—
He broke the kiss, their wet lips popping apart. She almost protested against her own volition.
Hazel eyes burned in the moonlight, and it was the most stunning color she had ever seen, but it could not compare to the sensation of him.
”Was that ok? I saw that in a movie once.” He whispered breathlessly, his chest heaving, his thumb moving up and down against her cheek. Static crept up her temples.
”What movie?” Was all she had the capacity to say.
He took a moment to answer, looking up to the ceiling as if it was written there for his convenience.
“I forget.” He admitted, meeting her gaze once more. He had the kindest eyes. The most infectious smile. She marveled at everything she could see and feel in the pocket separating them.
”I like that movie.”
His laugh was smothered by her lips, her hands, her desperation to never let another moment slip through her fingers.