itty bitty birdie

 “Still up, love?” The bustling in the kitchen had seemed distant up to this point, Fabian’s voice dragging her attention from the shifting light of dying embers in the fireplace. It sounds oddly clear against the silence that has fallen across the house, a faint rustling of bed sheets from a room far down the hallway, both of them pausing in anticipation for the creak of floorboards that never comes. “Can’t sleep?” His voice far softer –concern, she thinks, an odd feeling of guilt pooling in her stomach– as  he moves closer, placing a steaming mug on the coffee table in front of her.

 “Can’t sleep.” Nodding in confirmation; though if she was perfectly honest with herself she hadn’t even attempted sleep yet. It no longer felt the need to come easily, leaving her lying awake in the silence of her room with thoughts like wisps of smoke; blurring her vision but too faint to catch, slipping through her fingers once she thought she had grasped them. Thoughts of things yet to come, desires and dreams, the taste of fire whiskey and butterscotch, and holding hands with fingers laced together and lips pressed to her cheek But that itself is entirely too complicated of an answer. Not to mention one that she does not think she’d ever be able to string into words and form into sentences. Instead she offers a small shake of her head, patting the sofa beside her. “Think I could use the company for now though.” Dragging her bottom lip between her teeth – a sorry attempt at biting back a smile. “Unless you’re heading back upstairs, of course.”

That purely throw away statement gets rewarded with a chuckle, the cushion beneath her shifting as he drops down beside her, fabric rustling with the movement. “Nah, can’t sleep. Could probably use some company though. Since you’re offering.” His tone teasing, an all too familiar devilish glint in his eyes. This time there’s nothing to bite back and she lets out a small giggle herself, ducking her head to hide her flushing face and wide smile once again behind the comforting barrier of her stocking clad legs. “Tell you what’s keeping me up if you’ll tell me what’s got you up?”

Another question. The same twisted answer she can’t quite understand herself. Her smile falls as she too grows silent, studying the shadowy outline of Fabian’s face thoughtfully. There’s an answer somewhere. Dancing just beyond her reach. Perhaps it’s that it feels wrong to close her eyes and leave the house in silence, or it’s the chance to finally let her mind roam without the chatter that had all but bounced off the walls only a few short hours ago.

The answer comes of its own accord. Shrugging her shoulders she drops her gaze to her feet, smile fading as she wriggles her toes and still finding no answer but the jump in her pulse that seems to force words from her mouth with nerve-wracking ease. “I’ve missed you, y’know.” Her voice barely rising above its soft whisper. It’s hardly the answer to the question he asked. Anything but; yet it makes its way off her tongue with such fluidity that it must have been sitting and waiting to at last be spoken.

Silence. It’s the wrong answer and the wrong question, her stomach sinking as the internal berating takes its course. Stupid, stupid, stu-

“Really?” The lights behind him made it hard to distinguish anything in the dark silhouette of his face, but she was sure from the tone of his voice that his eyes would be alight. There’s little she can manage to do but nod, breath hitching in her throat as his hand rises to cup her cheek, and for a moment she was sure he was going to kiss her again. One of those wild dizzying kisses that played over in her head as she tried to sleep -that were the exact reason she was even awake now- and sent her heart fluttering in her chest.

“O-of course.” Feeling faintly ridiculous as her voice catches in her throat, studying his face closely. It’s not a kiss that comes as she watches his gaze drop from her eyes to her mouth. Instead a calloused thumb runs along her jaw line, her head turning as he pulls his hand away to press a tender kiss to his wrist. “Of course.” It had never even crossed her mind that perhaps he might have expected her not to. Let alone that it could even be possible not to. Surely it came with the baggage of a pounding heart that whispered tricky words like lo-… whispered tricky words into the darkness.

There it was again. That word. So fresh and crisp and new that daring to think of it for longer than that brief second it would cross her mind felt as though it would surely crumble in her hands. Too delicate to speak. Untested. And you had to test it out, didn’t you? Sound it out and see if it tugged your lips into a smile of their own accord. See how it sounded in your own voice. See if it came out with that ever so important ring of truth. Analyze each vowel and consonant. And she hadn’t. Not really in any case. You couldn’t count those wisps of thought as sleep engulfed her mind. Hardly counted as lucid thought. Hardly sensible. If anything, it erred far closer to the other end of the spectrum.

Love.  Foolish, alien and yet oh so tangible. If she stops to think for long enough she’s sure she’ll start feeling it pulsing through her already trembling limbs. For something storybooks would have her believe was so wonderful, the prospect certainly seemed more terrifying than expected.

“Ella?” She can practically hear the frown in his voice, an odd surge of guilt rising up in the pit of her stomach because of course it’s hardly his fault she’s acting so odd (though the voice in her mind responds that of course it’s entirely his fault). Hardly as though Fabian’s to blame for the fact that she’s started entertaining simple four letter words that add far more complication than any four letter word had the right to. Rough fingertips brush across the back of her hand, and again she lifts her gaze to the shadowy and unreadable face across from her. “Lo-”

“You’ll stay h-here with me, won’t you?” Cutting that oh so pesky word off before he can finish and praying that somehow he’ll have missed the crack of her voice. And for a brief second she thinks that it must have until Fabian’s moving again, plains of shadow passing across his face as he shifts closer, his gaze so solemn as he studies her face that it’s all she can do to drop her own guiltily to the space between them (it shouldn’t be there all that space with four letter words running around her mind.) Her bottom lip quivers; her breath shaky. It was absurd of course. Hardly the first time she’d found herself alone with the boy – man, the voice in the back of her mind reminded her carefully. Yet she was sure he’d never quite looked at her like this; with a gaze that felt so very like home in the dim glow of the fairy lights, in a place that felt so foreign to anything she’d ever called home.

Perhaps it was just Fabian that felt like home. With freckles like constellations, and warm hands he suddenly seemed determined to keep around hers, whose letters were enough to fuel smiles for weeks at a time, and who she… Who she was starting to have very real suspicions about being in love with.

“’Course I’ll stay… I’ve missed you.” Though this time there’s no tone of gentle teasing about it. It’s real. Real as green eyes and fingertip caresses and pesky four letter words that have moved on to practically hanging from her tongue; far too close to bite back. “Can stay up until morning if we feel like it.”

Of course that’s what does it. Fabian is home, and he’s adventure and he’s more than enough to set her heart racing and he’s holding her hand and he’s missed her. The words may as well have just spilt out of their own accord, leaning forward so her forehead rests against his. It’s barely a whisper, and at first she’s not even sure if he’s heard. Until the moment his lips are against hers, just as dizzying as she’d imagined.