She clapped quietly after I did, giving me a tender kiss on the lips. She asked me to sing another. She sang along, rocking back and forth, and after, she pulled out a baggie she had packed earlier. We fed each other, and after I made a face at the marshmallow thing she had squished up and tried to feed me, she laughed until she was on her back, wheezing.
“Your face!” she barely got out. “Make it again.”
This laughter was different from the laughter when she thought a snake had been chasing her. This laughter was fucking carefree, and another vow was sealed in my heart. My old man said Mamma would have laugh lines. She did.
Sistine would have laugh lines too.
Her laughter was good for my soul. It put me at peace.
I was quiet for so long, soaking up the sound of her laughter like I was holding it inside of me, that she opened an eye.
“What face am I making, Annie?”
She grinned, her cheeks puffing. “This one.” She brought her eyebrows down, making her face squish up, and she looked at the leftover marshmallow thing like she was suspicious of it.
Maybe I made the fucking face again, because she exploded, rocking back and forth.
“Some hunter I am.” I joined her on the blanket, pulling her in. I touched her on the side, and she went off like a firework. Almost cackling like a witch. “My dinner laughs at me.”
“Ahhh, you will eat me?” She looked excited at the thought.
“Fucking right I will,” I said, my voice full of gravel.
“You will have to catch me first.” She winked. “Ah! Let us see if you have the same issue, Mariano Fausti.” She wiggled her fingers at me and went for my stomach.
“Highly fucking doubt—” I doubled up when her little chilled spiders contacted my suddenly sensitive skin.
Her face went blank for a second before it was taken over by who I could only describe as mischievous Annie. Fucking trouble. No one had ever discovered all my vulnerable spots like this woman could.
She wiggled her fingers at me again, and again went for my stomach. We started flipping in the tent, me trying to ward her spider fingers off, while she was insatiable until she got me. When I grunted, she got the biggest fucking kick out of the noise. I fucking refused to laugh. Grunts. I kept grunting. Somehow, she ended up on top of me, and neither of us brought the position into focus until our eyes locked and we couldn’t seem to escape the spell.
She was breathing hard.
So was I.
“Annie,” I whispered, reaching up to touch her face.
Her eyes closed and she released a deep breath. “I need to breathe as well,” she whispered. “I do not think I can until you are inside of me. I am… aching…all over.”
I flipped her over, her breath catching at the sudden movement, and looked down at her. I looked down at her until she started to squirm.
“I am caught.” She breathed out, lifting her chin to me, offering me her racing pulse.
Every instinct inside of me seemed to come to life as I slowly leaned toward her, a breath away from setting my lips over her life—my life.
If she ceased to exist.
I ceased to exist.
I breathed her in, running my nose up and down her neck, kissing her until I got to the spot that I fucking ached to touch. To nibble on. To suck. To mark.
A breath away from relieving both of our aches, a sound seemed to come from the woods and slipped between us.
Sistine grabbed my flannel. “What wasthat?” she rushed out in Italian.
“Shh,” I said, picking her up, keeping her close to me.
The noise came again, this time louder. At first it sounded like a pig squealing, or a donkey screeching, and then it became higher pitched, with a fewwhuah, whuah, whuahnoises after it.
