[ He wants her to be there. He doesn't want to navigate the unknown twists and turns of this story alone. Of course, part of him knows that he should face this alone. How can he ask Jesse to walk into danger with him? Don't heroes often venture off alone on a solitary journey? To ask her to accompany him would be the pinnacle of selfishness. But he can't pretend that he doesn't want it.
He wants her company, and he wants this closeness that they've found. In a way, he barely understands how things developed as fast as they did, to the point that he's feeling something waking up inside him: something that people call love. Where did it come from? When did it start? Why did it start? He wouldn't be that kind of person who jumps from one relationship to the next. Rebound relationships are hardly fair to the person who is in the role of the rebound. He wouldn't do that to her, would he?
With the jeans removed and kicked to the side, he can feel their bare legs pressing against each other as they try to close the minuscule distance that remains between them. The feel of her skin against him feels good. More than good, really. It's the best thing that he's felt in a long time. ]
Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe it's too soon, but I can't do this with you and say that it doesn't feel right. If I'm wrong to be doing this... then I guess that I'm wrong. If you want me to stop, I'll stop. If you want me to never talk about this again with anyone, that's what I'll do. Even if we go our separate ways, I won't forget you. I couldn't.
[ Maybe he should give her space. Maybe he should let her think. Maybe, maybe, maybe. All he seems to have right now is a bunch of maybes.
But then she's kissing him again, and her legs are wrapping around him even as he feels her slipping out of the flannel shirt she wears and rocks herself against him. He should remove his own shirt and bare more of himself for her and to her, but he pauses for the moment.
She looks like she wants to say something, but only one syllable comes out, and then she's arching her back and pressing herself into him. She pushes against him, harder than before, and a gasp escapes him in return.
Almost instinctively, the hand at her waist snags the band on her underwear in a wordless question. He wouldn't go so far without asking if she's absolutely, completely all right with it. Shedding layers of shirts and jeans is one thing. This is another thing entirely: a more intimate thing, and maybe she doesn't want to be that intimate with him, not on that level. Should they bare themselves completely to each other on the first time together? He wonders. ]
no subject
He wants her company, and he wants this closeness that they've found. In a way, he barely understands how things developed as fast as they did, to the point that he's feeling something waking up inside him: something that people call love. Where did it come from? When did it start? Why did it start? He wouldn't be that kind of person who jumps from one relationship to the next. Rebound relationships are hardly fair to the person who is in the role of the rebound. He wouldn't do that to her, would he?
With the jeans removed and kicked to the side, he can feel their bare legs pressing against each other as they try to close the minuscule distance that remains between them. The feel of her skin against him feels good. More than good, really. It's the best thing that he's felt in a long time. ]
Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe it's too soon, but I can't do this with you and say that it doesn't feel right. If I'm wrong to be doing this... then I guess that I'm wrong. If you want me to stop, I'll stop. If you want me to never talk about this again with anyone, that's what I'll do. Even if we go our separate ways, I won't forget you. I couldn't.
[ Maybe he should give her space. Maybe he should let her think. Maybe, maybe, maybe. All he seems to have right now is a bunch of maybes.
But then she's kissing him again, and her legs are wrapping around him even as he feels her slipping out of the flannel shirt she wears and rocks herself against him. He should remove his own shirt and bare more of himself for her and to her, but he pauses for the moment.
She looks like she wants to say something, but only one syllable comes out, and then she's arching her back and pressing herself into him. She pushes against him, harder than before, and a gasp escapes him in return.
Almost instinctively, the hand at her waist snags the band on her underwear in a wordless question. He wouldn't go so far without asking if she's absolutely, completely all right with it. Shedding layers of shirts and jeans is one thing. This is another thing entirely: a more intimate thing, and maybe she doesn't want to be that intimate with him, not on that level. Should they bare themselves completely to each other on the first time together? He wonders. ]