Things aren't as nice as they were a few months ago. As cuffing season looms, Greta wraps herself around a cascade of bad decisions as she tries to take back what she had lost. But whether that'd be an assured future with Julien or a chaotic love wi...
They slept into the middle of the night, their contrasting bodies wound so tightly into one another as the bedsheets did little to cover them up. Drenched by the white light of the snow beyond her bedroom window, Frances found her eyes opening to the silhouette of Eli's face that was only getting more visible.
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She reached her hand across his chest, getting used to the immense warmth and the solid, hairy texture of his chest. She took to running small, invisible circles along the skin until his stirring pried his notice.
For the first time in months, she didn't feel so alone in the city. She would even go as far as to claim that perhaps this was the first time she hadn't felt alone in years. Bound by their instant connection, she had no intent on letting go so soon. She was 32, naturally in need of a belonging that was a little more tangible than her career.
And lying here, next to Eli, her future was sent down the flux of uncertainty. And something about that felt good, reassuring even. For he was still here. And him being here felt good in its purest form.
"Are you scared to go back?" She asked him, hearing the way the noises of his body settled down from his snores to the light grumbles of his voice.
"There's not much to go back to." He murmured. "I get off that plane, see these people, they'll be nothin' but strangers to me. Just like I'll be to them, I already know it."
"You think they won't accept you?"
When she asked that, she examined the conflict in his soft nod, then frowned. Then, he told her, "I know they won't. But I know I'll just go see them, collect whatever they got for me, then I'll put my shit back together while I'm down there."
"So you're really not coming back to Seattle?"
Calmly, Eli looked over to her, then reaching out, he begun to caress the smooth surface of her cheek. Lightly, his thumb grazed over the edge of her bottom lip. And instinctively, Frances took his thumb between her teeth, only to place the softest kiss upon the print.
Her gesture enamored Eli, and he leaned in closer to kiss her lips away once more. "Stay here..." She whispered softly to him. "You think the people that hurt us care?"
But he remained silent to that question, leaving Frances's finger to trace itself across the dark edges of his jawline. "What if I go down there with you, keep you from staying?"
"What you suggest I do then?" He asked. "Trade my first class for two coaches?"
