with it.
And she was afraid, so very afraid that he was just going to leave her there again when the meal was over. So afraid that, when she still had half a plate of food left, she reached across the table and grabbed his hand. And it reminded her of lying by the river with him. Because she realized it was the only time they’d held hands. When they’d been naked and basking in the aftermath of a climax.
But for some reason it felt different now.
Then, he’d been this man that she’d only known in the context of his hermitage. And now, he... He’d come down and he’d done all these things for her. He’d shared with her. Opened himself up. Not just about his deep dark tragedy, but about things that he liked. About what he thought of her. She’d seen him talk to her sisters, and to her brothers-in-law. He’d eaten pink frosted sugar cookies next to her, and had built her flower boxes, and there was something about holding hands with him now that felt infinitely more complicated. Like they were holding something heavy and precious in their hands, and she wasn’t sure she liked it at all.
His gaze was electric on hers. Far too sharp.
“I’m not leaving you tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh. I... I was.”
He stood, and got down on his knees so that he was eye level with her, where she was sitting. “Iris,” he said, his voice rough as he dragged his thumb over her cheekbone. “I just wanted to make sure you knew... You’re more than me just enjoying pleasure after a long time of going without. I needed to make sure you knew that. This isn’t just me needing sex. Granted, I like it, don’t get me wrong. You’re more than that. You matter. You could’ve sent a hundred different women up the hill before you, and they wouldn’t have moved me at all. It was you. And you need to know that. Not my isolation. Not my sadness, my grief, my boredom. Not my ability to fashion you into someone else when I’m holding you in my arms, because I’m not doing that. It’s you. I couldn’t quite figure out why I didn’t stay last night, not until I realized I wanted to build those flower boxes for you. But I realized it was about you.”
Her chest felt full, like it might burst open, and she did the only thing she could think to do. She launched herself forward out of her chair, and into his arms, kissing him. Deep and hard. Kissing him with every ounce of that unknowable emotion inside of her. Because it made her feel... Something. Made her feel better. Made her feel more like she could breathe. Because all of his words felt sharp and barbed, but his lips were firm and soft and magic all at once, and she was utterly and completely captivated by him.
By this.
So, she kissed him, because she didn’t have words. And she didn’t want his. Kissed him until she realized that even though they had blinds half drawn, they were visible to anyone who might be walking by, even though there wouldn’t be anyone walking by at this hour.
“Upstairs?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
She didn’t worry about the food, they would get that handled tomorrow morning. Right now, she just wanted him. Just needed him. Craved him.
Because this was clear. And this was sure. And she understood that he thought maybe he was... Devaluing her if he reduced it to sex, but this wasn’t reduced to anything, not for her. It was big and magical and powerful, comforting. Because she didn’t have to know answers. She didn’t have to figure out what she could do to bring him pleasure, it just brought both of them pleasure. And that felt easy. And she desperately wanted easy. Because who would have ever thought that an entire day spent with someone doing nice things for you could feel so hard. Only that it did.
He picked her up. Like she weighed nothing. Like she wasn’t any trouble or a burden at all, holding her against his broad chest as he walked her through the bakery, and up the stairs. When he got her inside, she abruptly flashed back to that night. To their first kiss. The night that he’d rejected her. She felt like they lived so many lifetimes since then. So many versions of themselves, stripped back and revealed. She hadn’t known then