synthneon | oceanview (different path) || ❝ turn the page i need to see something new. ❞

Yeah, exactly like a new draft. There might end up being several new drafts by the time I'm done, but that's all part of the process. Huh. I never imagined I'd end up having to tap into the writing process like this, but- hey, it's one of the few things I'm good at.

It has to make sense, though. Like, I know what ending I want, and what I'd like to put in, but it can't just be slapped into the middle just like that. It still has to fit together, like how a puzzle fits together.

Honestly, all I want to focus on is this. Us. Being with you. I wish that's all we needed to focus on. I wish we didn't have to worry about stories, or darkness, or anything but being together.

[ He sees her nod, and hears her verbal confirmation, and that's all he needs. He leans in, even though there's really no room to lean in, and he presses his lips squarely against hers. ]

Edited 2024-05-27 05:56 (UTC)

Well... you wrote this story, right? "Departure." Even if you don't remember it. You've already used the writing process. I guess now it's just the next step. [ Jesse pauses and then looks back up at him. ] It has to do a lot of different things. It's not going to be easy. I think. I'm not a writer... just, you know. Guessing.

[ She feels her cheeks flare red. That jarring fact that he's still married claws at the back of her mind. He should be focusing on saving his wife, regardless of the state of their marriage. Alice Wake should be the priority. How is this fair to Alice at all?

Then, she pauses in her mental thoughts.

« Does his wife care at all if he's moved on? Did she move on already and that's why they're getting a divorce? »

The thoughts come to a stop as soon as he kisses her. In fact, she stops all together. That familiar bolt runs through her. The piece of her she doesn't understand seems so loud then. Her eyes slip close and she presses her mouth to his. Her hand slides around to his shoulder and the other bunches into the shirt underneath his hoodie and tweed jacket. She presses against him. Almost as if she's trying to find the frequency they shared before at the coal mine. ]

[ Alan huffs out a laugh, because he's surprised at how easily she's accepted that he's written the story, even though he has no memory of it. ] I mean, it has my name on it, so that counts for something. It's just insane to think of writing a story and forgetting doing it, but- well, we know things going on here are pretty insane.

[ For just a second, a flash of doubt shows in Alan's eyes. The story does have to do a lot of different things, and he's not the greatest writer who ever wrote anything. Maybe Stephen King could do this, but he's not him. ]

I don't know if I can make this happen, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try. [ His determination might be wavering by the slightest amount, but it's still there. He won't give up already. He can't.

She stops, and he pauses for a moment, but it doesn't seem to him that she's stopped because she doesn't want this anymore. But maybe it's too much too soon, and- oh. Her mouth meets his again and he can't stop himself from pressing his lips onto hers.

Instinct is mostly in the driver's seat now, and Alan's letting that instinct take him where it wants to go. He feels like he's already letting that frequency, that spark, whatever it is, direct him, and it's guiding him to keep reeling her in even closer until there's nowhere else for her to go but completely against him.

He wants to be something solid that she can hold onto or rest against if that's what she needs, and so he pulls her in, little by little, being mindful of their shared kiss and not wishing to break it too soon. But if they do break apart, he's certain they'll find their way together again quickly. ]

It's real. You can't deny what's real and right in front of you. [ Jesse says it as if she's defending why she believes it. She's collected pages from it per Polaris's instructions. What happens on them really happens. ] Maybe there's a reason you don't remember. Maybe you had to forget. We might be able to help you remember somehow.

[ Then, Jesse's gaze focuses. ] You can do it, Alan. If you can write this story and all the Alex Casey stories? You can change the ending.

[ He pulls her closer, and Jesse responds. She presses against him entirely. Hips meet again and this time she shivers in his arms. She rocks against him, trying to find that shared frequency they were on before. It is namely on her, and she is more than aware of it. She's the one with the walls, paranoia, mistrust...

Jesse tilts her head upwards ever so slightly. Then, something clicks. Some movement reminiscent of their first kiss ripples through her. She synches with him. Practically melts against him. She moves to deepen the kiss. ]

Yeah, I know. It's real, all of this. Maybe you're right; maybe I need help remembering, and you and your friend can help with that. I know how it sounds, but maybe you're supposed to guide me to the next thing, and to the next thing after that, until the story is finished.

[ I wonder if that's the reason why I met them. Why I felt like I had to go looking for her, to actually talk to her. Could she and her friend be the key? Or am I just wanting them to be important because I don't want to do this by myself? How do I know that I did this for the right reasons?

He feels like it's one of those things that he just has to believe in and trust in, as cliche as that sounds, but he knows he's always been a little bit cliche. ]

Can I really? I knew what I was doing with the Casey novels. I knew what the beginning, middle, and end would be. I guess if I actually read this story and get to really know it, I can figure out how the ending needs to be changed. How to make it all fit together.

Maybe I can do it. Maybe.

[ He feels her respond, and he senses the moment that it all seems to click with her. He feels her, feels her rocking herself against him, but more than that, he feels that they've joined each other on some otherworldly level. Maybe it's all in his head, in his imagination, but somehow, they've transcended to a world that's theirs.

He moans against her lips as she deepens the kiss and his desire and arousal both seem to rise as well. His back arches, and his hand moves to twine itself in her hair. He wants this, and he doesn't want to let this go. ]

Polaris might help. She doesn't always give answers or... even the answer you want. I thought this would get me closer to Dylan, and it's something else entirely. [ Her eyes flick upwards to his again, hoping to communicate that she doesn't regret coming go Bright Falls. ] You wrote it which means you can change it. We can go over the manuscript in the morning. Maybe we can find something to help that way.

[ Everything swirls in uncertainty for her. Why she feels the way she does, what part of her it is that pulls her to Alan Wake. What she does know is that she feels wanted. That she has a place with him. She doesn't feel insane or crazy--but normal. A weird sort of not-normal.

Even... no, she won't say that word. There's no way that they could have those sort of emotions for each other after a few days.

His moan seems to echo almost through her entire body. A similar sound leaves her, lighter, quieter. He presses into her and her fingers press back into him. They work to find their way back under his jacket, hoodie and shirt. Though, any progress she would of made stops when his fingers weave themselves into her hair.

Jesse relaxes entirely against him. Almost as if she is giving him permission to proceed however he wants. ]

Why would she help me, though? She has no reason to help me, or do anything involving me. And- and I think even if you asked or told her to or whatever, I don't want that either, because then it's like she's forced to do it. I don't even know if that's how she works, but what's the point in forcing her to do it? [ He stares at her for a moment, a sudden worry coming to mind. ] What if it's my fault you didn't find Dylan, or a lead about him? What if I distracted you?

[ He searches her eyes then, trying to find something to reassure him that he hasn't ruined her plans and further endangered her brother. He doesn't see blame or anger there, but he still can't help but worry.

That is, until she makes a sound similar to his own and he feels her press herself more into him, as her hands work their way beneath his layers. She relaxes against him, and although he momentarily relaxes as well, he feels something urging him forward, urging him to take control and lead them both to... to what? To going all the way? Is it too soon for that?

He rocks his hips against her again, adding a little experimental pressure and an equally experimental grind. He doesn't want to come on too strong or too forcefully, but he can't pretend that he doesn't feel desire for her, a desire that's growing by the minute. ]

You're tied to this thing trying to come into our world. Something she finds as her enemy... I guess she would care because of that. I don't think it's the same kind of care that we think it is. More like... allies. Maybe? [ Jesse pauses. ] I know she didn't bring me here to find Dylan. She brought me here to help stop the story.

[ A sound almost like a hum leaves her at his hips pressing into her. Grinding. That feeling from before returns--wanting to indulge in nothing but him. The way he makes her feel. It's lighter, stronger, brighter. None of the words make sense but they are still the ones that come to the forefront of her mind.

She shifts slightly, laying on her back and pulling him along with her. She gently pulls his bottom lip between hers before breathing his name against his mouth. Her breaths are short and heavy, torn between catching her breath and kissing him again. Hands move from his back, up his sides, and to what she can touch of his front. Fingers brush over the zipper of his hoodie. She can't help remove it with them literally pushed together, but she also doesn't want to part.

Green eyes open to find his. Hazed with a sort of wonder but also growing desire. Also, a question of how far they should go--how far is he willing to bring her along? ]

[ He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seemingly become overridden by a greater desire, a more... carnal one, if he had to put a description on it. He follows after her when she pulls him along, and a well of arousal rises when she pulls at his lip before she says his name. The touch of her hands sends shivers up his spine, and he presses himself against her more, shifting his hips against hers and moving them up and down once before his eyes snap to hers when he sees them open.

There's a question in her eyes, and it's one he already has the answer to.

His hands slide down to her hips and then to the front of her pants, and he hooks his index fingers against the waistband of her pants and gives a short, experimental tug. ]

[ He moves up and down. Another gentle moan finds it's way out against his lips. She can feel him at her hips. A wave of emotions strike her then that she's certainly not used to. Desire, wanting to give up control, her stomach tightening. Her while body shudders and her lower back arcs up into him as his finger hooks the loop of her jeans.

He has answered her unasked question, but another one simply takes its place in her eyes. With me? Are you sure?

She can feel the skipped beat inside her. Not her heart, but, almost from falling out of synch with him? That wavelength or frequency or whatever faltering because she's ... scared. Not that he'll hurt her, but that he'll wake up and come to a realization it wad a horrible mistake. He may think it's wrong because of their age gap or that she's too crazy. What if the moonshine wears off in the morning and he says all of it was a poor choice influenced by it?

« I don't want that. I don't want him to ever look at me and think what everyone else does. I don't want to stand there in the room holding the poster as he walks away to be like everyone else...

I don't want to be alone. I want to go home. »

Except, she hasn't had a home in a long time.

Jesse raises her fingers to his cheeks. Maybe it's all too much to ask from him. He might want to just indulge in the feeling and then no strings after that. He's said other wise, but people say things. ]

[ He sees the question in her eyes, and to him, it looks like hesitancy, maybe even doubt. He doesn't pull away entirely, but he pauses in his movements against her hips, and although she hasn't asked a question in so many words, he inclines his head in a nod that yes, he's sure he wants to do this with her. If she wants to do it with him, he's willing to continue, but forcing her into something she doesn't want isn't how he chooses to operate.

There's no doubt in his mind that this is something he wants. He can't see a scenario in which he decides this was all a mistake best forgotten about. This could never be a mistake; he wants to have those needs met that don't get talked about in polite company, and he wants to see her have her needs met in return. She seems to be wanting something, longing for something, and he wants to try and give that to her.

He's not entirely sure how he knows, other than little hints she's given and how she sometimes looks like she's the loneliest person on earth. He doesn't want her to be lonely. He wants to give her everything she's been looking for. Of course, he can't help with everything; he can't bring back the people she's lost. But he can try and give her something that fills her up, that keeps her from feeling alone.

He can't know what's on her mind, but maybe the two of them can find a home together, with each other.

Her fingers move to rest against his cheeks, and his lips turn up into a warm smile. He likes how it feels when she touches him, and he hopes she likes it when he touches her in return. No, it's not too much to ask, and no, he doesn't want this to just be a fling that ends with them saying goodbye.

He gives one more experimental tug, and deciding to just take another step forward, he moves to slide them down over her hips. If she tells him to stop, he will. This is just to test how far she'll let him go. ]

[ Her gaze softens at the incline of his head. He's saying "yes" in every way possible, but she still has that fear of letting go entirely. What happens if she let's go of control? What might spiral out or what damage is going to happen this time? Who is going to disappear if she let's someone else make the shots and handle the situation?

Does any of that matter when it's just the two of them?

And, whatever alien forces are at work as well.

That pull inside her keeps demanding attention and priority. Being made brighter. She still doesn't know if that source is from Polaris or herself and she isn't sure if she can trust it either. Who and what can she truly trust? She trusts Polaris, but, what isn't her friend telling her?

Her heart skips a beat this time at his smile. Pink comes to her cheeks.

« He really is handsome. »

The tug at her jeans pulls her attention away from the thoughts swirling in her head. Darkened green eyes immediately snap to his gray ones. His hands move down her hips with her pants. She inhales sharply once more. That pull tugs at her again. Fast. Loud. Nothing else should matter other than the moment at hand.

A shudder moves through her whole body once more as at the feel of his hands. The realization strikes that it's all her. She wants him to touch her, move against her, kiss her. Touch those places he has once already that makes her weak everywhere. There's something about him and her that the other forces have latched onto and have made whatever it is resonate louder. ]

Alan... [ She says his name more as a way to give permission and becon at the same time. ]

[ He very nearly pulls away and stops his progress with her pants, but then she says his name again, and it's like a signal telling him to keep going. Don't stop. Keep going. Keep going until the two of you are one. Maybe it's all in his head, but that's what he imagines the signal would say if it had a voice.

He's not sure how far he wants to go, or how far she'll let him go, but he just wants there to be less layers in between them. Maybe if he removes some of her layers, she'll remove some of his. He certainly won't resist.

It takes some movement on his part, but he keeps working until he's managed to slide her pants down past her hips and then to her ankles, and then it's as simple as carefully pulling them off. He doesn't throw them to the side, as they're still hers, but he places them next to them, within arm's reach. ]

... Jesse.

[ As is automatic, Jesse moves how he needs her to help with her pants. Shoes are flicked off. Hips raise to be off the floor so he can slide them down. One leg moves to free itself from the sleeve, then the other moves. It feels freer now that he has removed the jeans. She can move and be touched however he wants to see fit.

Fingers move from his face to the front of his hoodie. They latch onto the zipper. She pulls it down easily, gesturing in so many words for him to shrug off the tweed coat and then the hoodie. He'll have less layers on and be able to move easier. She still has the red flannel on over the tank top, but it remains pushed down her arm.

He says her name and that piece in her mind clicks again.

Hands bundle in his shirt and give a tug. Once he has leaned over she kisses him with an open mouth. She wants to feel the way she had before with hi. Abuzz with energy, but also floating and weightless. Only Alan can make her feel that way--it's how she feels with him. ]

Edited 2024-06-07 10:00 (UTC)

[ That's really all the encouragement that he needs. She moves to kick off her shoes, and she lifts her hips up off the floor, so he makes quick work of removing her jeans. She latches onto the front of his hoodie, while he undoes the button on his own jeans to make it easier for her if she decides his jeans should come off as well. Meanwhile, he does as she's asked, shrugging off the coat followed by the hoodie, revealing the simple black t-shirt beneath.

Her lips press against his in an open mouthed kiss, and he responds almost automatically, tracing against her lips with the tip of his tongue before pressing in to return the kiss.

He feels the start of his arousal growing and with it, his desire for her. His senses seem to be swimming even as he presses against her, seeking more of the contact that they already have. He wants to cross that threshold with her, and she seems willing enough. Still, maybe they should work up to that, letting the intensity build until they cross that point together. ]

[ Her eyes fall to his chest, watching as he shrugs the layers off. It's a simple t-shirt. It should hardly be impressive. Yet, she feels as if her breath is taken away. He looks like one of those out of place tourists with his jacket on. But, now... he just seems like he's only Alan Wake.

The pull inside her intensifies with a single word that resonates in her mind at the realization.

He traces her lips and she shivers once more in his arms. She liked it the first time, as she did him touching her collarbone, but now the enjoyment feels as if it's skyrocketed. A deep moan escapes against his mouth as he finishes outlining her lips but before he kisses her, signifying how much she does like the motion. One arm warps around him and the other moves to brush into his shorter hair. She presses against his mouth. It feels like they've done this so many times even though they haven't. Why does it feel that way?

Their hips meet. She can feel him again and his arousal. It sends a powerful message through her whole body. The one word echoes in her mind once more. She shifts against him. The meaning of why the word is there seems lost in her mind at the moment. It simply is there as if it has always been there. Waiting for her to realize.

They part to breath for just a moment. Heavy breathes gently exhale against his mouth before the word finally slips free; whispered so no one else can hear. ]

Finally...

Edited 2024-06-10 17:03 (UTC)

[ Alan himself believes he's hardly impressive. He's just a writer, just another man, and while he has his share of fans and had a relationship with his wife, he's never really thought of himself as anything particularly special. He doesn't make a habit of putting himself down, but he just thinks of himself as your average, every day person who happens to be a writer.

And right now, the writer is completely fine with being just Alan Wake.

He wants to feel her, to feel alive and human and normal, as opposed to someone who's been swept up in a story that's wild and out of his control in a lot of ways. He wants her to feel normal too: like someone who's loved and wanted and cared for.

He can tell she's responding to his attention, and when she presses into him, wrapping one arm around him while the other hand goes to brush his hair, he feels himself respond even more. Her breath is warm against his face but he doesn't mind. He feels her hips meeting with his, aligning with his, and he rotates his hips slightly against hers even as he moves up and then down again, still pressing himself into her. ]

[ Maybe that is what makes him so attractive in the end. He is just a regular person, but with a unique determination that makes her heart skip a beat every time she sees it. One that makes her want to follow him no matter how far into the dark he goes. Wherever he needs her? She'll go. Wherever he goes? She'll follow him. That gravitational pull demands it of her, but there is something else too. Her own desire to follow him into the dark.

Hand slips from his hair and down his back with the other. The fabric glides under her fingers. It sends a certain sensation through her fingertips as he presses into her. Shifts against her. Moves to make her move. The tactic works, regardless of intent, and she shifts against him. Her back arcs into his chest and another pleased sound leaves her. Her head tilts back against the wooden floor beneath them. Probably not the best place to do these actions, but she doesn't want to move from this spot either.

Everything in her is starting to feel charged. Electric. Needing the current directed and flow in a way that does something other than build. Or, maybe it should build until there is no other option. Jesse isn't sure. She shudders again and moans against his lips. He may still have his jeans on, but she can still feel him through her underwear. God, he feels good.

« I found him. Finally. We're together again--wait. Why does it feel this way? I don't--is this what he meant by connection? » ]

Alan...

[ She needs to feel him everywhere. Touched everywhere
Kissed. There's too many layers. They can't satisfy that pull with so many layers still on... ]

Edited 2024-06-11 16:43 (UTC)

[ It's beyond stupid, asinine even, but in the fanciful stories thought up by minds a lot more inventive than his own (at least in Alan's own opinion), people on journeys like Alan's didn't often go on them alone. Well, sometimes they did, but sometimes they had a companion with them along the way.

Could Jesse be that companion? Would it even be safe for her to come? Part of him says that no, it wouldn't be, but that doesn't change the fact that he wishes she could accompany him down whatever path he ends up on. Maybe they'll have to part ways at some point, but maybe she can come with him as far as she can go. Or as far as she wants to go.

He can't say when it happened but at some point, he fell into step with her, or that electric current pulled him in. Either way, he's in, and he has no intentions of getting out. It feels like a strange dance that they're in; she moves, and he moves to follow her, and she moves again. Somehow, he just knows the steps, and he's content to follow her lead or take the lead himself when the moment calls for it.

When she moans against his lips and keeps pressing herself against him, he finally decides that he needs to be less clothed too. Somehow, he manages to keep kissing her and touching her even as he works at removing his jeans with one hand. The other hand holds onto her, both to balance himself but to steady her as well.

If she thinks he feels good, well, it's nothing compared to how good she feels to him. ]

Jesse... [ He breathes out her name against her mouth as the jeans finally slip away, and he shifts to lightly kick them out of the way so they don't trip on them or get caught on them by mistake. ]

I want you. [ That should be clear by now, given how he's blown past almost all the things that would be barriers between them, but the words slip out anyway. ] I love you.

[ Already? Is it too fast? Maybe, but Alan doesn't think of it that way. ]

[ Dealing with things like this are never safe. Jesse learned that as a child. Everyone and anyone is in danger during them. It's easier to go through it with someone at your side. Dylan was there for her, so maybe she can be here for Alan. If he wants her at his side. He already has his best friend. The one downstairs passed out from moonshine while she and Alan...

The sound of her name causes her to look up at him. Eyes locked onto his. Breathing heavily against his mouth, a glazed look to her expression, heartbeat pounding. The feeling inside her beginning to tighten and the need to throw her arms around him and disappear into the flow between them. Let him lead the dance they seem to know despite never having been on the dance floor together. ]

Uh-huh, [ Jesse breathes the reply that sounds more than words. Agreeing. Feeling him at her hips with no jeans in the way makes another sound come from her. Lower, beckoning him. Lips brush along his.

I want him... I want to be his. I don't--does why matter? Does where this comes from matter? It feels like me. That I want--

Jesse's eyes widen at his next statement. They immediately lock onto his and she stills. Not that she was doing much more than moving to his beat anyways. Her heart pounds and not just because of the physical state he's pulling her into. ]

You--you love me? [ The words come in a rush against his mouth. Everything feels like it's stopped around them. Just the two of them in the world. The two of them and their otherworldly companions. ] You do...?

[ Her mind feels stopped but her body hasn't. When next he pushed their hips together, her head tilts back slightly with an excited moan making it's way from her. Her heart pounds. He loves her. It's not some spur of the moment action, it's not driven by alcohol, Polaris hadn't nudged him in anyway...

« We barely know each other. How can he love me? Do I love him? Even though we just met... and nothing makes sense about it... do I... »

Her mouth is on his again. Kissing, body shifting, legs wrapping around his to pull him closer if it's even possible. That pull wants her to spiral down into him. He loves her. Why wouldn't she want to? She pushes herself up enough to slip out of her flannel shirt. It's tossed to the side. Both hands bundle into thr hem of his black shirt and she rocks against him again. ]

I...

[ No, words are too difficult to use. She can't explain what she wants with them. Instead, Jesse arcs her back again. Chest presses into his. Her hips meet his but she purposely pushes herself onto him. A gasp leaves her before her whole body shudders again. ]

Edited 2024-06-12 18:44 (UTC)

[ 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. ]

[ Her eyes remain locked onto his as he speaks. Her heart pounds pounder with each word. Something inside her knows he isn't lying. Nothing he says is just something to wind her up to want him. It's the truth. It's how he really feels. That drive to be brighter clenches inside her. It's more than that though. She wants him; wants him to touch and kiss her. If he can accept all her weirdness and her craziness and find it normal...

Why shouldn't she want him?

His hand snags the waistband of her underwear. A shuddered breath leaves her. That last wall seems to have crumbled down. Maybe her mind shouldn't take those three words as him accepting her. Maybe logic and caution should be dictating more. It isn't. All that's there is the need to be his and to be more than a paranoid girl running away from the government.

I want you. She mouths the words against his lips. They're too difficult to say. She is relying on him to put his writing skills to use. See what she's saying without saying it.

The tank top is still on as is her bra, but she finds she doesn't care if they stay on or off. Kissing him and feeling his hands on her hips is far more important. ]

[ Well, it's a good thing that he wants her, and that kissing is also at the top of the list, in terms of things he wants to do with her. Anything else that falls into that more intimate category is still there, but it's only if it's something she wants as well. Desire is one thing, but pushing her to do things she might not want is another thing entirely.

Still, considering she's let him go this far, he's thinking it's safe to say that she doesn't mind too much. But even though his passions might grow to a fever pitch, he still intends to check in with her from time to time before going full speed ahead.

Like now, for instance. He can tell that she wants him, that she wants this. The mouthed words help confirm that, but it's her actions that are speaking the loudest.

One hand moves to lightly finger the straps of her tank top in a teasing gesture while he presses a deeper kiss to her lips and experimentally slides his tongue forward, touching the tops of her teeth. ]

[ Jesse has had encounters. She's kissed, done more than just that. The results were ways she learned on a more personal level she couldn't trust people with things about her and her past. She didn't sleep with just anyone, but he still couldn't accept what she said and believed. He still thought she needed help.

That's not how it feels right now with Alan Wake.

She can feel a hunger for her. Not just physically, but also for that otherworldly part of her. The part she doesn't even entirely understand herself just yet. It isn't just that. She feels that part of her hunger for him as well. Those two words repeat in her mind even if she barely can grasp the meaning of them. Something about her and something about him click on all fronts. Jesse isn't a wordsmith or even someone who would romanticize it all in her mind.

Even then, something about Alan Wake makes her feel like she is his and he is hers.

Complimentary pieces. Not exactly made for one another, but ones that could click if the right circumstances came together all at once.

It seems as if they have.

Fingers trail along her skin as he moves along the strap of her tank top. She groans at first, then the sound changes into a softer moan at the kiss. Her mouth opens, tongue meeting his, trying to learn the movements to match his. Her hips shift again.

« He's just going speed up and then back down... again and again... »

The idea causes a reaction she hadn't expected. Her back arcs again, but she settles down entirely on the floor once more. Hands move along his arm and in his hair as she continues to kiss him. She can feel her body start to shake already. It's almost embarrassing how he's already brought her to this point with just kissing and moving their hips together. ]

Alan. [ Just his name breathed on his mouth. No trailing off, no implications. Just a tone filled with deep desire, longing, and maybe even love.]

[ Alan has had encounters too; his most memorable ones were with Alice, but these moments with Jesse are already solidified in his mind as ones he needs to hold onto. But more than that, he needs to make these moments special for her as well, and he's doing his best to make sure that happens.

He wants her: her and her guide. He wants to feel one with them, or at least, connected with them. Do they belong together? Could they belong together? He wants them to, and he feels that something inside Jesse wants that too.

He hears the sounds she makes as she moves and responds to his attentions, and he feels her tongue meeting his, the tip of his meeting hers and sending explosions up his spine.

This feels right. They feel right, but it's nothing compared to how he feels when her back arches and he feels her hands touching him, tracing his arm and touching his hair. A contented but desiring sigh breaks loose, as he becomes aware of his own arousal building and coming closer to a breaking point. He's not there yet, but he's getting closer. It's getting closer, and any action from her could send him over the edge.

She breathes his name against his mouth and the tone washes over him like a wave; not a cold wave to startle him, but a wave of warmth bordering on heat and desire and wanting... wanting to be held, seen, loved... Maybe he shouldn't guess, and maybe he shouldn't assume she has the same feelings he does, but something inside him is telling him she feels the same way. ]

Jesse... Jesse.

[ He reaches for her, trying to circle his arm around her; is it to pull her in, or to pull himself closer? He's not sure. He's not even sure if it makes a difference. All he wants is for them to be even closer than they already are. ]

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