CHULANE
It felt like an age, though in reality it was barely a few breaths passed between them. The time it took for her to respond to his request stretched on and on, the insecurities within him rising and threatening to overwhelm him - his heart rate had long ago risen to a fever pitch, pounding away in his chest. Would she deny him, turn away from him now, after she had made her declaration, her request? He didn't know where the thoughts came from, why they decided to pester him now of all times - and they were swiftly banished as she stepped into him, as her lips met his, as the world around them melts away and it's just them, entwined in a kiss.
His heart still hammered away in his chest, but it was a different beat now, as his insecurities fled and all thoughts turned back to her, to this woman who had shared so much of herself with him, who had welcomed him, trusted him - he still felt unworthy, still felt too simple, too mundane for her, but her reassurance and the kiss that enveloped him shooed such feelings away and beckoned others closer. Feelings of deep romantic affection, of fondness, of pure, utter bliss were ushered to the forefront, as he loses himself in this simple, soft and tender gesture.
Then the kiss is broken, and he finds himself taking a deep breath, his skin warm, almost feverish from the excitement of it all. Vaguely, he is aware of a wolf-whistle echoing from somewhere behind the bar, the kitchen staff apparently sharing their opinion of this developing situation. But any such embarrassment is chased away again by her, her form pressing in close to his, her head resting against his shoulder, the pounding of his heart no doubt clearly evident to her. His long arms reach around her too, his head bowing down to nuzzle in against her nape, breathing her in, holding her, so relieved not to be denying what feelings have been building up for her anymore.
"Let's finish dinner," he murmured almost regretfully from his spot against her neck, peppering her with kisses wherever his lips could find skin. With a hand always on her, or holding hers, he does some rearranging of the table setting and his chair, so that instead of sitting on opposite sides of the small table, they shared a corner, able to stay close. He was amazed at how much he missed her nearness already, at how he craved her, but he restrained himself, determined not to let the food go to waste - there was precious little left to go.
And after dinner? He didn't know, didn't want to presume, but he'd be lying if he said he wanted the night to end so soon after such revelations had come to pass.
His heart still hammered away in his chest, but it was a different beat now, as his insecurities fled and all thoughts turned back to her, to this woman who had shared so much of herself with him, who had welcomed him, trusted him - he still felt unworthy, still felt too simple, too mundane for her, but her reassurance and the kiss that enveloped him shooed such feelings away and beckoned others closer. Feelings of deep romantic affection, of fondness, of pure, utter bliss were ushered to the forefront, as he loses himself in this simple, soft and tender gesture.
Then the kiss is broken, and he finds himself taking a deep breath, his skin warm, almost feverish from the excitement of it all. Vaguely, he is aware of a wolf-whistle echoing from somewhere behind the bar, the kitchen staff apparently sharing their opinion of this developing situation. But any such embarrassment is chased away again by her, her form pressing in close to his, her head resting against his shoulder, the pounding of his heart no doubt clearly evident to her. His long arms reach around her too, his head bowing down to nuzzle in against her nape, breathing her in, holding her, so relieved not to be denying what feelings have been building up for her anymore.
"Let's finish dinner," he murmured almost regretfully from his spot against her neck, peppering her with kisses wherever his lips could find skin. With a hand always on her, or holding hers, he does some rearranging of the table setting and his chair, so that instead of sitting on opposite sides of the small table, they shared a corner, able to stay close. He was amazed at how much he missed her nearness already, at how he craved her, but he restrained himself, determined not to let the food go to waste - there was precious little left to go.
And after dinner? He didn't know, didn't want to presume, but he'd be lying if he said he wanted the night to end so soon after such revelations had come to pass.
it is better to know some of the questions
than all of the answers
than all of the answers
