radicalize | (no subject)

When Lucy woke up to the sound of pouring rain, she'd sat around the treehouse, assuming that it would pass in an hour or two, tops. Only when it didn't show any signs of letting up -- around afternoon, she supposed, judging by the fact that she was starving -- did she start to worry a little, and by then, she couldn't wait any longer. She'd always known that there was some sense in keeping around the clothes she'd arrived in, though she hadn't thought she would ever wear them again; when she headed out of the treehouse, she had on her turtleneck and coat and scarf. It made her feel ridiculous, all those layers on what was usually a tropical island, but in the end, it turned out to be worth it.

It took longer than usual to get to Ryan's, and she was soaking wet when she got there, having had to cross practically the entire island to reach his hut. She'd known all those weeks ago that she ought to have gotten her own place, but no, she'd waited and wound up like this for her trouble. Brushing her wet hair back from her face, she knocked hard on his door with the other, practically praying he'd be there. There weren't many alternative places she could think of to stay, none half as comfortable as staying with Ryan, and she really did not want to be out in the rain any longer just then.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

More than simply relaxed, he moved with a kind of confidence, fingers skimming over curves, his thumb brushing circles over her skin as he let himself be drawn closer. He wanted to be closer still. It seemed absurd, if distantly so, that he'd been so intent on getting her in dry clothes when now he just wished her out of them. Breaking away, he pulled back just far enough to look at her properly. "God, I want you," he murmured, affection mixing with desire. A moment later and he turned his attentions elsewhere, pressing a lingering kiss to her throat and trailing slowly downward, his hand sliding lower, following suit. There were a lot of things he might not have known how to put into words, but he could try, at least, to show her.