He doesn't tell me it will be okay. Doesn't offer empty platitudes or false promises.
He just holds me.
Eventually, the tears slow. My breathing evens out. I'm left feeling hollowed out but lighter.
"Better?" he asks.
I nod against his shoulder, then tilt my head back to look at him.
He's closer than I expected. Close enough that I can see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the way his grey eyes have gone darker in the low light. Close enough that when I breathe in, my senses are dazed with the scent of him.
Close enough that I do something incredibly stupid.
I lean up and kiss him.
It's barely a kiss at first. Just a brush of my lips against his, tentative and questioning. Testing to see if he'll push me away. If he'll take advantage. If he'll—
He makes a sound low in his throat, and suddenly his hand is cupping my face, angling my head, and he's kissing me back.
Not like in the warehouse. That was desperation, performance, survival.
This is something else entirely.
His mouth moves over mine with a controlled intensity that makes my head spin. Firm but not forceful, demanding without being cruel. Like he's been thinking about this for hours and finally has permission to take a taste.
I open for him on instinct, and his tongue slides against mine, hot and claiming. The hand on my face tightens slightly, thumb stroking along my cheekbone while his other arm bands around my waist, pulling me closer.
I'm in his lap before I fully register moving. My hands fist in his shirt, holding on because my head is swimming and my heart is racing and nothing about this makes sense but I don't want it to stop.
He kisses me like he's staking a claim. Like I'm already his and he's just reminding me of the fact.
I kiss him back with everything I have.
When he finally pulls away, we're both breathing hard.
"Florrie." My name sounds different from him now. Rougher. Wanting.
"I don't know why I did that," I whisper, which is a lie. I know exactly why. Because for one moment, I wanted to feel something other than fear. Because he was there, solid and warm and safe in a world that's suddenly dangerous. Because some broken part of me wanted to take back even an ounce of control.
"Don't apologize." His thumb traces my lower lip, and I shiver. "Don't ever apologize for kissing me."
"I wasn't going to."
His mouth curves slightly. "Good."
We stare at each other, the air between us dangerously charged. The thought enters my head that I should move from his lap, ask him to leave. Get back into bed and go to sleep.
But I don't want to.
"Stay," I hear myself say. "Just for tonight. Just..." I don't finish, but I don't need to.
Understanding flashes across his face, followed by something that looks almost like relief.
"Okay," he says quietly.
He shifts us both, settling back against the headboard with me still in his lap, still pressed against his chest. His arms wrap around me, warm and safe. His heart beats against my cheek as I fall asleep.
Leon
