A PG-13 warning probably ought to be included for this one:
For the first time in a long time, she didn’t want to get out of bed. It was so nice to feel safe in bed. It was so nice to wake beside someone who didn’t have it in him—or she didn’t think that he had it in him—to hurt her—in any way. She smiled at him, still asleep, with his tow hair tousled and his mouth hanging open just a little while he breathed, his bare chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm. He slept curled in upon himself, lying on his side. She had hoped that he might reach for her in his sleep. She had liked the way that he had touched her, but his hand curled in upon itself too, almost as if he grasped something that she couldn’t see. She wondered what would happen if she slipped her fingers between his while his hand lay between them. Would she feel what he grasped? Would she wake him? Would his gentle fingers maybe close around hers?
Frowning, she rolled away from him. She didn’t have any right to disturb whatever might be so sacred to him that he had decided to cling to it instead of her.
He moaned her name.
Her movement away might have woken him. She turned her head, forced a smile, and stretched out a hand to touch his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she promised.
“It’s all right.” His words slurred in his just woken haze. He rubbed his eyes with his fists and then smiled at her blearily. “You didn’t leave,” he noted.
“You didn’t expect me to?” she hoped.
“I—I was worried I’d done something wrong. That you might not have— I didn’t really know what I was doing.”
“That’s okay,” she assured him. “No one does the first time. You did fine,” she promised.
“I didn’t hurt you?”
I am a thief! I stole this line from the short story “Early Morning” by Bek at BuildingADoor. This is only a “Tiranvof” piece because of who I had in mind while writing the story. This piece was supposed to be up on Thursday October 24, so again, I’m sorry that I’m late.