[ he hovers over her, just barely touching β the warmth of him like a cloak and her body's every instinct wants to simply tilt back, melt into it, wrap herself up in everything that is him. instead, she studies his hand clutched over hers, feels a burning where their skin touches, and they are both completely still. breathing deeply, struggling for air, because every cubic inch of it smells so acutely of him: firewood, fresh strawberries over homemade pancakes, newly fallen snow...
...home, before the room...]
The room's made it worse.
[ her voice is tense, barely audible, tight as a violin string. ]
no subject
...home, before the room... ]
The room's made it worse.
[ her voice is tense, barely audible, tight as a violin string. ]
I need to give you space.