Maeve
His answer isn't what she was expecting. It makes more sense than anything else he could have said. He doesn't do healthy and she probably doesn't either. That doesn't mean anything though because he looks at her like she's the most precious thing he's ever seen. He looks at her and everything else seems to fade away. No one has ever looked at her the way he does and it's with that realization that she doesn't give a fuck if it's healthy or not because she wants this. She wants him.
So she does what any sane girl playing in the rain with her new boyfriend and she kisses him. It's odd to think of him that way, but she likes it. Locke, Loxley, lover, friend, boyfriend. He's all of those things, but more importantly he's hers. His fingers tangle in her soaked curls, drawing her closer until there's no space left between them. Even the rain can't find a place to slip in with the way they're presses together. Nothing but wet clothes and skin and lips moving against each other. When they part she looks up at him with bright eyes and flushed cheeks, a smile on kiss swollen lips. She feels good. Happy. It's been a while since she's felt like this. Then he's looking at her again like she's his whole world and her chest almost aches with it.
His request is soft. Words almost lost in the rain with the way he murmurs them, but Maeve is close enough to catch them and realize how precious they are. Locke's hands find her hips, bucking up wet fabric as he holds her close. Her expression softens, "Okay.." She reaches for one of his hands, taking a hold of it as her other comes up to his shoulder. "Just follow my lead." Another smile finds her lips, somehow sweeter than the last as she starts guiding them through a simple combination, water splashing around their ankles as she guides them both in a slow circle. Once he seems to have the hang of it she spins away from him and then back in again, "Not too shabby and here I was thinking you had two left feet."
So she does what any sane girl playing in the rain with her new boyfriend and she kisses him. It's odd to think of him that way, but she likes it. Locke, Loxley, lover, friend, boyfriend. He's all of those things, but more importantly he's hers. His fingers tangle in her soaked curls, drawing her closer until there's no space left between them. Even the rain can't find a place to slip in with the way they're presses together. Nothing but wet clothes and skin and lips moving against each other. When they part she looks up at him with bright eyes and flushed cheeks, a smile on kiss swollen lips. She feels good. Happy. It's been a while since she's felt like this. Then he's looking at her again like she's his whole world and her chest almost aches with it.
His request is soft. Words almost lost in the rain with the way he murmurs them, but Maeve is close enough to catch them and realize how precious they are. Locke's hands find her hips, bucking up wet fabric as he holds her close. Her expression softens, "Okay.." She reaches for one of his hands, taking a hold of it as her other comes up to his shoulder. "Just follow my lead." Another smile finds her lips, somehow sweeter than the last as she starts guiding them through a simple combination, water splashing around their ankles as she guides them both in a slow circle. Once he seems to have the hang of it she spins away from him and then back in again, "Not too shabby and here I was thinking you had two left feet."
And I was catching my breath
Staring out an open window
catching my death
Staring out an open window
catching my death
