twostandingby | (no subject)

(no subject)

When Tycho awakes, it's immediate. There's no half-asleep mumbling of nightmares, no signal, no sharp intake of breath, no bolting upright in bed. Just his eyes snapping open and then flicking about, taking in his surroundings in one sharp glance. The furnishings are reduced to shadows in the dark, but he recognizes it; room 181, Milliways. Winter fast asleep beside him, her shoulder tucked against his and her face tipped away from him on the pillow, pale skin and hair easy to see even in the little light coming from under the door.

He forces himself to breathe evenly, and he slowly reaches up to scrub his face. No sudden moves; he doesn't want to wake her, and he knows how easy it is to do.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He looks at her a moment, and he finds her warm hand again, pressing it with his. "Nothing is coming between us, love. Not if I have anything to say about it."

She squeezes his hand, curling close to him. Silently. Just leeching the warmth off of him.

She fits perfectly into his arm, just like she always has, even if he's not relinquishing his grip on her hand, and he feels stronger for her presence, just like he always has. He kisses her forehead.

She tilts her head up, kissing his chin, the only thing she can reach in this position. It's unspoken, the I love you, but they are beyond the need for words.

She's going to spend the rest of her life with him, after all.

Tycho slides down just that little bit in the bed, enough that he can capture her mouth with his. It's I love you right back, a comfort and a familiarity and worry for her, yes, but -- they both tend to persevere and he's firm in his belief that there is very little he can't face as long as Winter D'altaire is by his side.

Her fingers slide up to stroke his cheek again as she slants her mouth under his, deepening the kiss, clinging to him. As long as he's here...she'll be okay. Perhaps not logical...but so very true.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only