Maeve
Maeve closes her eyes against the soft candle light in her room, focusing instead of the way Locke's chest rises and falls beneath her cheek. Slowly, her breathing matches his and the tension she's been holding in her body eases. His fingers seek to touch her and trail over her side. His touch is featherlight at first, but eventually grows more sure. He doesn't find skin. Even though there is plenty of skin to find. One shift of her robe would reveal the small camisole and sleep shorts she's wearing, but he doesn't look.
Instead he just holds her and lets her rest. Which she does do. At some point her breathing grows slow and heavy with sleep as she lays in his arms. It's in short bursts. Little cat naps that never last more than ten minutes at a time, but she does rest. Just like he says she should. When his fingers eventually find her hair, she hums, nuzzling herself closer to him. "Feels nice..."
Instead he just holds her and lets her rest. Which she does do. At some point her breathing grows slow and heavy with sleep as she lays in his arms. It's in short bursts. Little cat naps that never last more than ten minutes at a time, but she does rest. Just like he says she should. When his fingers eventually find her hair, she hums, nuzzling herself closer to him. "Feels nice..."
Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending
still waiting for her happy ending
