( the quiet is something she’s grown used to living in.
it acts as a balm here between them when words cost too much, mean too little. he guides her beneath the water and for a long moment it’s all she can do to let it pour over her, soothe and bite at aching limbs, prick at the sensitive swell of color across her midsection. it’s all she can hear, all she can feel — the rhythmic pattering soaking her hair, raising her hands up to brush it back along her crown, a mixture of dirt and blood swirling between their toes. he steps gently into her, letting her rest against his chest as he begins to lather into knotted strands, working his way through each tangle slowly, carefully.
she helps him where she can, and he wordlessly takes care of everything she can’t, guiding her with silent touch. there’s a part of her thats tempted to simply stand there beneath the water with him, against him — to do nothing but close her eyes until the water ran cold, but she can’t trust her limbs to keep her up that long.
he’s the first to step out, wrapping a towel around his waist and another around her shoulders, an attempt to trap the warmth in as they make their way back into his bedroom, the city glittering in the distance. it doesn’t take long for the cold to find her once he leaves her side, returning with one of his henleys to slip into, teasing her thighs. when they make it to the edge of the mattress once more she finds his wrist, searching up for his gaze in the dark. )
no subject
it acts as a balm here between them when words cost too much, mean too little. he guides her beneath the water and for a long moment it’s all she can do to let it pour over her, soothe and bite at aching limbs, prick at the sensitive swell of color across her midsection. it’s all she can hear, all she can feel — the rhythmic pattering soaking her hair, raising her hands up to brush it back along her crown, a mixture of dirt and blood swirling between their toes. he steps gently into her, letting her rest against his chest as he begins to lather into knotted strands, working his way through each tangle slowly, carefully.
she helps him where she can, and he wordlessly takes care of everything she can’t, guiding her with silent touch. there’s a part of her thats tempted to simply stand there beneath the water with him, against him — to do nothing but close her eyes until the water ran cold, but she can’t trust her limbs to keep her up that long.
he’s the first to step out, wrapping a towel around his waist and another around her shoulders, an attempt to trap the warmth in as they make their way back into his bedroom, the city glittering in the distance. it doesn’t take long for the cold to find her once he leaves her side, returning with one of his henleys to slip into, teasing her thighs. when they make it to the edge of the mattress once more she finds his wrist, searching up for his gaze in the dark. )
Will you stay?