The whole argument about how the internal beauty of a person is significantly more important than their looks is something he can essentially agree with, but he would be lying if he said that the outer beauty isn’t ever fazing him. He’s a visual creature after all, so why shouldn’t he also appreciate what his eyes can perceive? Particularly with someone like her around. Ever since that ill-fated happening in the alley he has felt weirdly affected by her. At first his perception was really, almost impudently shallow. Trying to deny that he’s been finding her alluring from the get-go would be just futile. As superficial as it sounds, when shooting her in the middle of nowhere was still undisputable, for a moment he even thought what a pity it would be to bid such a pretty face farewell. Of course, his decision didn’t change due to this much one-dimensional reason. So he keeps reminding himself over and over again why they’re here and why he spared her life in the first place.
He’s always seen himself as rather guarded and restrained in those terms, but now he needs to force himself to get his act together and keep his hands to himself. But he’s itching to trace her slender neck with his index finger, to see if he could make her shiver just by that, to feel her hot breath brush against his touch-starved skin. A yet another wave of heat hits him, soon followed by temporary dizziness and that’s when he realizes he has to put these accumulating pipe dreams to rest immediately. Yeah, rest. If he end up accidentally getting attached, then it will be like firing a bullet at his own knee. Painful, dumb and unnecessary. Because who knows what tomorrow or the day after that will bring? They’re not supposed to nurture a bond. They’re supposed to get some business done and get on with their individual lives. Theoretically. It starts to look like quite a grim scenario.
When he watches her hand indecisively hover back and forth around the blanket, it’s hard not to let out a little laugh, but at the same time it’s oddly relieving. That she also might be fighting off certain thoughts. When eventually she flings it back, towards the foot of the bed, the cheeky smirk is more of a meek, abashed smile now. “I can’t promise you that. I’m a shy guy, haven’t you noticed?” He shortly takes on the sarcastic tone to obscure the sheepishness. And so he steps forward unsurely, hoping he doesn’t look like staggering drunk. Kicking his dress shoes off, he sits on the bed before laying down, slightly pulling the blanket over himself. The moment she speaks of the strategy, it takes him a while to latch on what she’s on about. “There’s nothing snapping a few necks here and there cannot solve,” he cracks a goofy grin, meaning what he’s said only a bit. “It’s a relevant remark. Eliminating the competition will be easier than building a strong group of supporters,” resting his hands on his stomach, his voice gains a tint of seriousness. “In case I run out of body bags or something, I believe you’ll help me out,” he abandons the volatile solemnity and turns his head to her, giving a light playful tap on her shoulder.
Breathing in she takes deeply the scent of the cabin. That scent of the old wooden cabin that she has spent so much time, getting lost in her novels. Laughing and crying with the characters. Having her heart broken by the love of Catherine and Heathcliff and then having it glued together again by Darcy and Elizabeth. She knew most of the words in the books, they were inked in her mind, in her body and in her soul. Having spent unknown hours with her nose between the pages, here in her own cabin, while sitting on the porch with a blanket covering her legs while the sun was setting down, only to find her still there on its route up the sky.
She never wanted to be just loved. She never wanted this plain, simple love when you meet the person and everything is just perfect and calm. She wanted Elizabeth and Darcy’s love, she wanted Heathcliff and Catherin’s love, this passionate, extraordinary, complicated, taking everything with it love. The one that takes your feet of the ground and spins your world upside down, the one that breaks your heart too many times to be counted, but the one that gives you the person who’s capable of fixing it every time. The person who you can’t live without, literary can’t imagine your life without. The one that your body and soul crave all the time. She never wanted the easy love, she wanted the real love.
So much time she had spent in this cabin, with her novels and her tea, under the sun and stars when the weather was good or in front of the lit fireplace when it was raining. She’s sure that even the walls now know the stories of her favourite characters, just as good as she. But that would be it. Probably it was a good thing that the cabin came to her mind tonight so this could be her final goodbye to it. She won’t be able to return again, she knows it. She’ll have to start again, a new place, a new life, away from everything and everyone. She wouldn’t really miss anyone, but she would miss this place. Her own, small getaway. Maybe she could go to England first and see the moors that were explained in such details that when reading about them was like staring at a painting of them, every brushstroke visible.
The man with her quickly invades her thoughts when she senses his touch, the one that keeps sending electricity through her whole body and she blinks away the tears gathered in her eyes. She doesn’t look at him, until she’s sure he wouldn’t notice them, but when she does, when the trail up from his body to his face, to his jaw, his full lips, up the bridge of his nose and then to his eyes, these eyes, burning through her, she needs some time to gather her thoughts and realize what he had said to her. Her body turns to him, and she puts both of her hands under her cheek. “ I’m too expensive for you to afford me. Besides, I will be far away by that time. ” her lips curve in a small smile, but when they open again, she closes her eyes: “ Will you come closer? ” it comes out more like a whisper and for a second she wonders when was the last time she was so shy.
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