Authors Note: This fic was solely born because I'm ready for fall, and my friend thought that picnics are romantic. Disclaimer, I'm not really a writer, but I am a day-dreamer and sometimes I need a place to jot it down. Hopefully others will enjoy it? Please feed my constant need for validation and tell me if you liked it or couldn't stand it, and don't forget to drink some hot tea today.
Summary: It's hard to imagine you can be so still and muffled with a man so deafening. Yet here, you manage.
Word Count: 772
You gently run your fingers through his hair, your fingers getting caught at moments, but you always carefully maneuver them to untangle the small knots. The breeze kicks up and your hair whips softly across your face. The autumn breeze is cool enough for his body heat to seep under your clothes and settle into your skin without making you uncomfortable. Leaves are fluttering down the clearing you two are sat at every now and then, and itâs quiet, except for the rustling of the trees when the wind disturbs their tops. His chest rises and falls, his t-shirt stretching across his chest every time. The bags you used to carry the food rustles.
Heâs dozing, and you know that he needs the sleep, so your content to let his head rest in your lap while your mind wanders with the wind. He has one leg bent, and the other splayed, and you let out a huff of amusement that disappears under the wind. How he fell asleep like that is beyond you. You can tell itâs not a very deep sleep. It smells like someone far away is burning leaves.
The blanket under you is soft, but not quite as soft as his hair. Your hands move to frame his face, only ghosting across, so you donât disturb him. His eyelashes are splayed across his cheeks. His eyes gently roll under his lids. Youâre thumb slides over his bottom lip. You smile, because if he was awake, heâd make a face and groan on about being too gentle. He can be loud and brash and much, but heâs good at being still as well. Itâs a good look on him. You feel a rush of heat at knowing youâre able to simply exist with him in this moment.
A yawn rips through you. A street lamp flickers on. You feel the oncoming dread of getting up, packing the trash left over from your picnic. You could probably stay here for hours, in this light, at this hour, in this position. You look down again. Youâre struck with the peace of the moment all over again. You think you love him.
âI think I love you.â Only a soft murmur, and the wind steals it anyway.
âMm?â He barely moves, the sound coming from deep within him, only a slight rise of his chest. If you hadnât been looking at him, you could have mistaken the noise for something else. You bite your lip.
âI think itâs late.â One brown eye slits open, heavy lidded and unimpressed.
âSo?â His lips are barely moving. If someone else had been intruding on this moment, theyâd only hear the timber of your voices but no context.
âWe should go, it gets chilly at night.â You catch a strand of long dark hair as it dances over his face. He stretches, languid, cat-like.
âItâs gonna be a bitch carrying me and the rest of this shit, huh?â His low voice filters through the rustling, his eyes closed again, and he fails to suppress the grin breaking across his face. He always aims to get a rise. You lightly flick his temple.
âJames.â The word is more of a hum, enunciation seeming to cease existence here in this clearing.
âWeâll watch the stars, or sumâ shit.â The sentence tapered off at the end, a heavy sigh stealing the volume. His body twisted, his chest to the blanket now, arms moving to sufficiently trap you, encircling you, his body radiating heat. âYou can rub my back.â You hear with a familiar coyness. You snort, the sound louder than intended, startling you. You both take a minute to settle in the silence again. Your hand roves across his back, you bend slightly to play with the hem of shirt, gently grazing a sliver of skin exposed with your nails. His breath hitches, and he turns the rest of the breath into a deep sigh. Contented. You canât see between the trees anymore, darkness melting through the branches.
Time resumes itâs pause for the two of you. You feel the vibration of his voice from his chest against your body, and you can feel his lips moving on your stomach, hot breath striking against the cooling air.
âMm?â Itâs a tiny noise, questioning but the effort isnât all there. His head rises slightly. He repeats the words, and you feel liquid heat encase your heart as you hear words you thought were lost when you spoke them the first time.
The sound of the wind against leaves picks up again, effectively silencing any noise from your lips sliding across his.
stormborns
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
titsay
dailybridgerton
origamiaround
pixelskylines
vaporwave