His chill warms me
RATING: nothing really, pretty tame.
ARCHIVING Not a problem as long as you ask first.
FEEDBACK: Yes please!
DISCLAIMER: King Joss owns all and I make nothing from this story, and of course, I never will.
This is in response to the Happy Drabble Challenge. Hope it isn't too long to be applicable!
Unbetad, so all mistakes are of course my own.
Darkness reigns over all in my basment, broken only by the soft shards of moonlight filtering through a half closed curtain. My parents had ceased their bitter drunken ancedotes of love hours earlier. Neither of us have to laugh loudly or snipe at each other just to drown out the sound any longer. This is our time together. The few hours before dawn where we are oblivious to any other worldly happenings.
A pale hand gathers up my much darker one, caressing the longer digits with shorter thinner fingers. Turning it this way and that, my arm is outstretched so that the thin moonlight bathes my limb in a ghostly veil.
We don't always make love when the opportunity presents itself, like tonight. Instead we lay next to each other, curled into the comfortable position that has been established over the last few months. He likes to pat at my darker skin, awed by the colour difference. My body heat is another constant source of amazment for him, I often wake in the mornings to find myself chilled, wondering why I'm so happy to be cold then a little burst of happiness starts the internal warming process from my heart outwards as I realise that he is spooned against me.
I'm his first human.
He told me that I will also be his last.
I'm in love and last night, he told me that he was to.