[August had been expecting Emma to make a run for it. He'd seen her do it before (though the extent of his past stalking experience would be best to keep to himself), and he knows her type. He was her type, the ones too scared of being a disappointment or being disappointed to stick around for very long, the ones always moving, the emotional and physical drifters. The difference between them, though, was that while she was drifting aimlessly, he was always tethered--to her.
Now, laying back against the mattress and trying to catch his breath, he hopes desperately that she'll stay but expects none of it. Now that he has her, he can't stand the idea of letting her wander off again--but she doesn't, and when he glances over at her to watch her shift under the covers, he can't help but smile.
So this is what normality feels like. It's warm, encompassing, comfortable. It feels right.
He looks right back at the ceiling then, careful not to spook her by staring all too much, releasing a deep breath and relaxing. It isn't for another beat that he turns his head to properly meet her eyes.]
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Now, laying back against the mattress and trying to catch his breath, he hopes desperately that she'll stay but expects none of it. Now that he has her, he can't stand the idea of letting her wander off again--but she doesn't, and when he glances over at her to watch her shift under the covers, he can't help but smile.
So this is what normality feels like. It's warm, encompassing, comfortable. It feels right.
He looks right back at the ceiling then, careful not to spook her by staring all too much, releasing a deep breath and relaxing. It isn't for another beat that he turns his head to properly meet her eyes.]
That was incredible.