Re: [Adult] VIP Area
She heard him approach the bed in a whisper of sound, eyes tightly shut as she listened. The rustle of fabric, his unevenly drunken step, the weight of the belt falling to the floor, his breathing. She resisted the urge to open her eyes, to turn back to him, to look, the sensation heightened by her lack of vision and dulled senses. She lost track of those movements as he approached the bed, and the dip of his knee against the mattress made her gasp, made her eyes flutter-fly open as he slid in beside her and pulled her close.
She clung more than he did; she always had. She took the pull as invitation, and she wound around him, soft curves against hard planes in the cool softness of the bedsheets and the pulsing lights of the city beyond the window. He was warm, and he was safe, and she slid a hand over scar-marred skin from shoulder to thigh, verifying his presence with the landscape of warmth and strength.
His whisper made her sigh softly, and she let herself believe it. There, then, in that quiet room, she let herself believe it. She pressed him onto his back, and she burrowed under the sheets and pillowed her cheek against his stomach, arms wound beneath him and mindless of the weight that would eventually render them numb. She could feel his breathing, the lulling rise and fall of his belly beneath her cheek, and she pressed a line of kisses along his side before settling again and letting her eyes drift shut. "Je veux ĂȘtre avec toi pour toujours," she whispered after a few seconds, sleep already tugging her down.