Joseph X Rehina (JoeHina) my life
Literally them making out. Anyway have this small fragment of a fic I’m writing about them.
“We hate couches, it’s too intimate that people forget why they’re in here.”
— “May I ask you something, Joseph?”
She shifted on the couch. Gently turning to face him— her knee brushed against his for a moment and instead of flinching like they had burned each other, their eyes locked in each other’s gaze.
He rolled his hand and scoffed at her before gently nodding.
— “Do you really think…” she paused, then let her eyes land on the fabric that separated the skin of their knees from touching, “that I hate you?”
Joseph didn’t answer immediately. It’s almost performative the way he pauses and pretends he doesn’t know the answer.
— “Yes.” He said. “I do think you hate me.”
— “Well…” He shifts on the couch, this time facing her fully. He rested his arm on the top of back cushion, the leather crunching gently, and placed his head to rest on his hand. “You challenge me. You refuse what others would have prayed for.”
She smirks and playfully poked his knee. But he wasn’t done speaking.
— “and whenever I catch your eyes looking at me. It’s not the same look others would give me. It isn’t of admiration…or of fear…or of a knowing glance. I feel…” he paused…thinking of better words.
She immediately bursted out a laugh that echoed in the ever so observant walls of his office.
— “Naked??” She repeated his words, as vulgar as it sounded.
— “I couldn’t find words. You know what I mean.”
— “No, I really don’t” she lowered her hand and smiled at him “You’re lying.”
— “God knows I pray I am.”
— “I think…you see hatred as a safer option than affection.”
— “Affection is liability.”
Unconditional Love is complicated…there are no clauses on where or what the boundaries are. And boundaries are the only thing that they pretended they had.
She smiled and then slowly she shifted closer. As their distance closed, Joseph lifted his head from his hand and let his arm stretch on the couch.
She was much closer now, his hand passed behind her shoulders.
— “You are many terrible things, Joseph.” She said as she placed her hand on his shoulder. “But that does not mean you are underserving.”
— “You don’t get to decide that.” He shifted to her touch, his hand gently twitching to restrain himself from reciprocating. Something he swore he would never do.
She didn’t argue— for once. Instead she shifted closer and ever so gently leaned forward and pressed a her lips against his forehead. Directly on the furrow that never seemed to smooth anymore. No defiance, no hatred, no hunger… just a gentle gesture of presence.
His breath caught, until he could take the moment to breathe in deeply. Her lips stayed pressed there for a moment longer, until he could feel his face gently melt against her kiss. He closed his eyes as if the world had tilted too quickly.
As he felt his own body melt towards her tenderness, for a moment…just for a moment, he felt suspended in air. The burden of titles, of sin, of performance gone. In that moment he felt like he was just a man, experiencing what it’s like to be seen again.
She pulled away. And as she sat back, what she saw was a much gentler man in-front of her. A much vulnerable version of him she had never seen before. No frown, no scowl, just the expression of someone who had received benediction he did not deserve.
It was only in the span of a few seconds that so much emotion was confessed. Though neither of them would ever admit it. The way their eyes met after that would tell you everything.
When he opened his eyes, it was bright in a way he would tell her was “irritation” later.
— “You realize that was profoundly inappropriate.” He says hoarsely.
— “So are a lot of things.” She replies with a gentle smile on her face.
— “So tell me what I don’t know.”
— “You already know a lot of things.”
— “Tell me something… someone special would know.”
— “Like I said. You already know a lot of things.”
The clock ticked as the rest of the Vatican slept. And inside one of the few illuminated windows, on a couch that was far too intimate, two people who should not have been anything to each other talked about the most mundane things one would find boring.
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