[Opportunities to stop or at the very least take a moment were there, they always have been, but he doesn't see much need for them this time. They've cut close several times and it seems like build up in hindsight, a taste for things to come when the right time rolled around. He just never though it'd of been in a safe house during a rain storm.
He supposes there's no better set up than this. They're in a safe house, a coincidence that they too feel safe with each other. The rain holds to a gentle background noise and thunder is absent. All of his senses are on higher alert to every movement or sound made as she shifts to lift off of him.
The wet hair isn't pitiful. It's endearing, though he isn't sure the same sight is shared on the matter. With her standing, he takes to moving and standing himself only to halt midway at her unfinished words. His mind completes the rest because it's really the sole thing that needs asking; has he ever done this before?]
No, this is- you are my first. [It's how it should be said. She is going to be his first, she's been his first in many regards. Had he not been of his own body and mind he'd seen their budding relationship as juvenile like a pair of love starved teenagers. It isn't, not by a long shot, they're not naive to the world in ways teenagers are. What they have is real, perhaps one of the few things he knows is real in a world of illusions.
The transition from sitting to standing it finished by wrapping arms around her waist and kissing her forehead. This took talking out he figured, uncertainty pounding at his chest against the want to do so.] This is all new for you to huh? [Has to be, she's in the same circumstances of never having time or need to do these things.]
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chiming
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Date: 2016-02-04 04:01 am (UTC)From:He supposes there's no better set up than this. They're in a safe house, a coincidence that they too feel safe with each other. The rain holds to a gentle background noise and thunder is absent. All of his senses are on higher alert to every movement or sound made as she shifts to lift off of him.
The wet hair isn't pitiful. It's endearing, though he isn't sure the same sight is shared on the matter. With her standing, he takes to moving and standing himself only to halt midway at her unfinished words. His mind completes the rest because it's really the sole thing that needs asking; has he ever done this before?]
No, this is- you are my first. [It's how it should be said. She is going to be his first, she's been his first in many regards. Had he not been of his own body and mind he'd seen their budding relationship as juvenile like a pair of love starved teenagers. It isn't, not by a long shot, they're not naive to the world in ways teenagers are. What they have is real, perhaps one of the few things he knows is real in a world of illusions.
The transition from sitting to standing it finished by wrapping arms around her waist and kissing her forehead. This took talking out he figured, uncertainty pounding at his chest against the want to do so.] This is all new for you to huh? [Has to be, she's in the same circumstances of never having time or need to do these things.]