could you do prompt 1 lyrason with just them relaxing
Author's Note: THANK YOUUU!
Contents: Grayson Hawthorne x Lyra Kane
It was late afternoon, the kind where the sun never fully showed up. Rain had been coming and going all day, tapping on the windows like it was asking to be let in. Inside the sunroom, it smelled like lavender tea and the faint trace of Grayson’s cologne clinging to the throw blanket Lyra had half-kicked off.
She was curled into the corner of the couch, wearing one of his old sweaters that was far too big on her, sleeves bunched at her wrists. Her legs stretched across to where he sat on the opposite end, feet tucked under his thigh. She wasn’t even reading the book she held anymore; just flipping through pages every few minutes and staring out at the rain.
Grayson hadn’t said much. He rarely did when they were like this. He liked the silence. She knew that. He liked that he didn’t have to fill it with anything for her to stay.
Her gaze kept drifting to him. Grayson, leaning back into the cushions with one arm stretched along the top of the couch, eyes half-lidded as he watched the storm.
There was something about the quiet of him, the way his fingers rested gently on her shin, that tugged at her chest. Maybe it was the softness, or maybe it was just the fact that he didn’t always let himself be this unguarded around anyone else.
She didn’t realize she was staring until he looked at her, eyes catching hers like it was nothing new.
“What?” she said, quiet. Not annoyed. Just curious.
His lips lifted at the corner. “Nothing.”
He shrugged, leaned his head back against the cushion. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to have to kiss you.”
Lyra blinked slowly. “Like what?”
Grayson didn’t look away. “Like you want me here.”
There was a beat of silence. Just the rain. Her thumb slid into the dog-eared corner of her book, pressing it closed.
“No,” he said. “But it still surprises me.”
Lyra swung her legs off his lap and moved closer, tucking herself into his side like it was second nature. “Then maybe don’t make such a big deal out of it.”
He tilted his head toward her. “You're saying I shouldn’t kiss you?”
“I’m saying if you’re going to, just do it.”
Grayson didn’t need more than that. His hand slid up, fingertips brushing her jaw, guiding her in gently — not rushed, not showy, just something sure.
The kiss was quiet. Like the room. Like them.
And when it broke, neither of them said a word. They just sat there, listening to the rain hitting the glass, breathing in sync.
