Iskra
Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end
He begins to lean into the rock alongside her, limbs suddenly mimicking al dente noodles. He eases in with a groan and a sigh, the ring of her arms around his neck and the slow trail of them along his face the only thing that keeps him from nestling in completely, content as a cat in a sunbeam to curl up here and nap with her. Probably for the best he doesn't, his neck would have words with him upon waking, he's certain. It's easy enough to find a slice of bliss at her side though, even on the uneven surface of stone.
He gives a low, pleased sound as her touch trails into breath dancing against his ear. His eyes fall half-lidded and unfocused, the haze of her in the dappled sunlight of the canopy drifting in like a dream. Her praise lands like sunlight after a snowstorm, so welcome that he can't help but turn his face towards it, lopsided grin stretching out languid and loose without him fully meaning it to. The response of her body is all the affirmation he should need that he'd done something right, but somehow the words thrum against him, echoing into parts of him that soften at the sound. Something shy and pleased flickers into his expression as her gaze drags over him in the wake of appraisal, and if he flexes slightly, he'll never admit it. He huffs a breath that might almost be a laugh, one shoulder lifting faintly beneath her hands.
“The best,” he murmurs in agreement of that experience, voice still rough around the edges, but warmed through now. His hand slides against her again easily, fingertips skimming along her arm, slow and idle, tracing the line of muscle and skin. There’s no rush left, just the gentle want of staying connected, of letting the quiet stretch between them without needing to fill it. He breathes her in, steady and unhurried, happy to exist here with her for as long as they can.
When she mentions the stream, he stirs from the edge of slumber, humming thoughtfully. His eyes flick towards the swaths of foliage around them before returning to her with an easy nod. “Yeah, that's a good plan.” His hand had since fallen still against her, but now drifts back to life down the slope of her, a quiet farewell before he pulls it in to situate himself upright.
A faint smile tugs at his mouth as he glances around again. The canopy above and the earth beneath them feels suddenly…right. “Glad we ended up out here,” he murmurs before hoisting himself to his feet. “City wouldn’t’ve given us this. Not this nice anyway.” Some hotel room perhaps, or if they really got lost, an alley or a restaurant bathroom, but he can't imagine such miserable places compared to this. "I think there was a stream back the way we came," he offers, and worst case scenario, the Firecracker had some creature comforts they could indulge in.
He gives a low, pleased sound as her touch trails into breath dancing against his ear. His eyes fall half-lidded and unfocused, the haze of her in the dappled sunlight of the canopy drifting in like a dream. Her praise lands like sunlight after a snowstorm, so welcome that he can't help but turn his face towards it, lopsided grin stretching out languid and loose without him fully meaning it to. The response of her body is all the affirmation he should need that he'd done something right, but somehow the words thrum against him, echoing into parts of him that soften at the sound. Something shy and pleased flickers into his expression as her gaze drags over him in the wake of appraisal, and if he flexes slightly, he'll never admit it. He huffs a breath that might almost be a laugh, one shoulder lifting faintly beneath her hands.
“The best,” he murmurs in agreement of that experience, voice still rough around the edges, but warmed through now. His hand slides against her again easily, fingertips skimming along her arm, slow and idle, tracing the line of muscle and skin. There’s no rush left, just the gentle want of staying connected, of letting the quiet stretch between them without needing to fill it. He breathes her in, steady and unhurried, happy to exist here with her for as long as they can.
When she mentions the stream, he stirs from the edge of slumber, humming thoughtfully. His eyes flick towards the swaths of foliage around them before returning to her with an easy nod. “Yeah, that's a good plan.” His hand had since fallen still against her, but now drifts back to life down the slope of her, a quiet farewell before he pulls it in to situate himself upright.
A faint smile tugs at his mouth as he glances around again. The canopy above and the earth beneath them feels suddenly…right. “Glad we ended up out here,” he murmurs before hoisting himself to his feet. “City wouldn’t’ve given us this. Not this nice anyway.” Some hotel room perhaps, or if they really got lost, an alley or a restaurant bathroom, but he can't imagine such miserable places compared to this. "I think there was a stream back the way we came," he offers, and worst case scenario, the Firecracker had some creature comforts they could indulge in.
Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end
