littledozerdraws:They’ve been dancing around it for months. Small touches on the back of the hand, a
littledozerdraws: They’ve been dancing around it for months. Small touches on the back of the hand, a lingering gaze. Something too warm in a smile.The boats are being packed up; abandoned. They know that there will be no time for anything but surviving. Small pleasures will be limited to snatched of sleep, scraps of fresh meat. Certainly nothing like–They know how easy it would be to leave things alone. To say goodnight, wish each other luck for the long walk.James has his hand on the door when Francis murmurs something, too low to hear. He could feign ignorance. It really would be that easy.“I didn’t catch you,” James says. And Francis says, all at once, almost angry, “Kiss me, would you.” It’s not even a question. A statement.James is back across the room in four strides.Francis has only put his mouth on Sophia like this, nobody else. James–he had paid for it in Singapore, among other places. It’s different for both of them, now. It feels–urgent. like a necessity.“I can’t stay,” James murmurs. still kissing him. “I can’t stay, someone will notice–”“I know,” Francis says, stern. His voice is hard but the way he brushes a finger through James’ too-long hair; it’s soft. It’s so damned soft. “Kiss me. We have time.”-words by @drawsaurus -- source link
#the terror