llumetrii

"That worked up an appetite. I'm starving." One of them groaned in your earpiece.

"Anomaly in containment." The other said. "I'm signing off comms, thanks!"

"Thanks guys!" You responded right before your earpiece clicked twice—one for each Spider signing off.

You blew out a sigh and relaxed your shoulders. That was your last mission after being on comms all day. It really felt like that was all you were doing now. The last time you were on a mission was a whole week ago. A whole week!

You pulled up the communications report for the earth-1080 anomaly you just helped out with, and you filled out the standard answers. Pretty quick stuff. You had done it a hundred times before, and at this point, it was second nature. Once finished, you sent it to review.

You arched back in your seat to stretch for the first time in an hour, arms reaching up. Your spine felt much better, the ache from your unintentional slouching easing off your muscles.

"Think you can handle one last mission today?" Miguel's voice came from behind your chair, disrupting the silence of the room so suddenly that you jolted.

"Miguel—hey..." You stuttered, brain going blank for a second as he moved around you to stand at the front of your desk.

Your heart gave a traitorous flutter. It always did when he was standing as tall as he was, looking down at you with that expectation in his eyes. Like doing missions with him was a normal thing every day.

And technically, it was. Especially since you were on comms so often now. It just felt not normal every day because your heart still did backflips in your chest every time he got close.

"Yeah." You answered quickly, forcing yourself to focus again. "Which...which mission?"

Miguel looked down at his interdimensional watch. "Earth 4489c. It'll just be me. Should be relatively quick." He said. He tapped on his watch to prepare coordinates for the portal jump.

You nodded, navigating on your screens to sync your communication system with his watch. "Ready when you are."

Miguel portal jumped in a flash of light and color. A few seconds passed before his voice came smooth in your ear through the earpiece. "You got me?"

You swallowed, trying to ignore the roll of goosebumps down your back just from the way his voice sounded in your ear. Your system picked up his location in the dimension—broadcasted as a green dot—and zoomed out to get a wider scan of the area. "Yeah. Still finding the anomaly." You said.

Your system sensed an uneven shift of molecules in the dimension and immediately identified it as the anomaly, which now showed up as a red dot just a couple city blocks away from Miguel. You pinpointed the anomaly to load the info on your screen.

"I see it." Miguel said.

Your heart thudded a little harder. You needed to find any important information before Miguel decided to go in blind. You were used to Spiders jumping into the fray before they knew what was really happening, and while Miguel usually hung back to observe a situation, there were times he'd deem a problem easy enough to handle right away himself.

Your eyes quickly scanned for the most important information. "Rhino variant. Mechanical suit with electrical enhancements."

"Looks like it." Miguel responded in a grunt. His dot on the screen moved between buildings on your map as if he were swinging. "I'm going in."

You glanced around the city map for any other familiar Spider signatures, but Miguel's dot remained the only one.

You relayed the information, only because it was protocol. "There's no ping from the dimension's Spider yet."

To no surprise of yours, Miguel answered the way he always did. "That's fine. I can handle it."

You shook your head in amusement. "As usual." You muttered.

"When was the last time you called back-up for me?" He countered. You could hear the slight smile in his voice.

The red and green dots on your screen converged and your smile faded as you refocused on the job. "Just—be careful."

You tapped a couple buttons to see the molecular signatures of the civilians around. Most were scattering, causing chaos on the streets as they tried to avoid the wreckage and violence the Rhino anomaly was causing. It was too disorganized.

"Should I call backup?" You asked, chewing on your lip as you watched the dots move. "There are a lot of civilians around that could result in too many casualties."

"No, I've got it!" Miguel grunted before cursing under his breath. He was clearly grappling with the Rhino variant.

You loaded up the data of the city structures, eyes narrowed at the screen and brow creased in worry. Scanning the buildings, you tried to search for the best route Miguel could direct the fight in to avoid other people as much as possible.

You spotted something else instead.

"There's a server room in the building you're in—to your left." You spoke up quickly. Miguel and the anomaly were moving fast on your screen. "You can use the power to overload his suit."

Miguel didn't acknowledge verbally, but you saw the dots move in that direction.

"This armor he has is absorbing all my hits." Miguel uttered in frustration. "Nothing is slowing him down."

Your heartbeat steadily increased. If the anomaly wasn't showing any signs of stopping, how much longer could Miguel fight it?

"Miguel. Back-up?" You urged.

The dots on your screen continued to brawl. Civilians were still running, now further away from the fight, thankfully. But Miguel gave no indication of accepting  help.

"Think you can take him down?" You asked this time, trying to gauge how the fight was going.

Your earpiece crackled loudly, making you flinch. A staggered curse from Miguel came through before the audio cut out.

The map on your screen glitched, and your heart dropped. Miguel's dot had disappeared.

"Miguel?" You called. Your lungs felt constricted in your ribs. You could barely breathe in the silence that answered you.

"Miguel?"

You stared at the screen, frozen. Eyes wide. The red dot still moved aggressively. But Miguel was completely gone.

"Hey! Miguel!" You jumped up from your seat as you called desperately into the mic. Your heart was pounding and your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You had never seen something like this happen. He was hurt. Or dead. Or—something.

There was no time to call anyone else. You had to get out there.

You tapped frantically on the holo-screen to pull up the coordinates, then punched them into your own watch. Everything was a blur as you stepped through the portal and into the dimension.

A loud engine siren scattered your thoughts when you ended up on the roof of a New York building in Earth 4489c. Car horns blared up from the streets below and the burnt scent of the air made your nose sting. You sniffled and tugged your mask on, racing to the ledge to observe the wreckage down below.

The street was a mess. Cars smashed and corners of buildings crumbling. A few people still darted between the wreckage. The anomaly was nowhere to be seen. And neither was Miguel.

You swung down to the building you had seen on your holo screen and slipped inside a large, broken hole in the side. Your system had lost Miguel's connection right here. You only hoped he wasn't in the condition you feared.

Broken glass crunched under your steps. The office building was silent here, desks destroyed and splintered. Papers strewn all across the floor. A broken light flickered and sparked above, parts of the ceiling hanging in pieces. You gulped, and even that sounded loud here.

The server room you had pointed out to Miguel earlier  had its door crushed inward. Wires sparked and lights blinked feebly on the few towers of servers that had somehow survived the carnage.

Your heart felt like it was trying to thump into your throat. Miguel was still missing, and you weren't sure if that was a good or bad thing. There wasn't any blood you could see anywhere, but there wasn't evidence of anything else either.

You stepped out of the room and spotted something glinting under one of the desks. You recognized that shape and metallic coloring. Surely it wasn't...

A chill skittered down your back as you knelt down to pick it up. It was a piece of an interdimensional travel watch. Miguel's watch.

It must have broken in the fight—that was why you lost connection. But where was Miguel?"

You straightened up and tapped on your own watch screen. You needed to call back-up. Miguel could be anywhere and the Rhino was still wreaking havoc somewhere in town. You wouldn't be able to find them without—

The wall across from you exploded. You stumbled back, gasping as the concrete chunks and glass pelted your suit.

Your spider-sense raged through your body like a crack of lightning, too late for you to move fast enough. You tried to shoot out a web on instinct anyway, but the line snapped when Rhino's rigid, metallic horn slammed you against the wall behind you.

Pain lanced your chest like fire. You scrabbled feebly at the armor while its roar rang in your ears. The pain turned white-hot, and you choked out a gasp. The fire in your chest was going to consume you.

The pressure on your torso suddenly disappeared as Rhino turned, bringing gravity upon your body again. You crumbled to the floor, head swimming, lungs screaming for a breath that hurt too much to take.

You had to get up. You had to move before Rhino could ram into you again. You couldn't sit here when danger was so close by.

As you staggered to your feet, the pain was so intense that you cried out. You grit your teeth. Dust was everywhere, making the world too hazy to see clearly. Shapes moved like a lazy blur and everything sounded so far away, like you had been plunged underwater.

Strong hands clamped around your upper arms. You gasped, your mind catching up to real time. The noises amped up in volume, berating your ears, and the silhouette in front of you sharpened.

It was Miguel there, the eyes of his mask as wide as ever.

"Are you okay? What are you doing here?" His words rushed out in a torrent that betrayed his shock.

Your legs buckled in sheer relief at seeing him, and his hands gripped you tighter to keep you from falling. You opened your mouth to speak, but only a pained gasp came out. Your chest hurt so much, the pain making your head pound. What was happening to you?

"Sit down." Miguel lowered you to your knees on the ground.

You clamped your hands on his arms, mouth open in desperate gasps, desperate pleas for air in your burning lungs. "It hurts—"

"I know. I've got you." He said immediately. His hand came up, tugging your mask to pull it off your head. Then he slid his hand through your hair to cup the back of your head. "Is that better?"

You couldn't really answer. Not while you were hiccuping and wheezing for breath.

"I'm gonna get you out of here." He said. His hand left your hair and he fumbled with your watch until he finally sent out an urgent message for back-up with just a few taps.

A roar echoed across the street outside. Miguel glanced back toward the sound, then looked at you again. "I have to stop him before he hurts anyone else." He said. "Back-up should be here soon. Hang on and don't move. I'll be back as soon as possible. Try to control your breathing, okay?"

You nodded, you breath hitching, and the pain in your chest growing more intense. But you knew stopping the anomaly was more important right now.

Miguel's hands slipped away from you, and he leapt and swung into the air with aggressive force, disappearing from your view.

You tried to keep your breathing calm, you really did. But the fact you couldn't get the air you needed bordered you on panic every time you attempted to suck in a breath.

Your vision swam, the crumbled walls and scattered office furniture swirling and blurring at the edges. With a dizzying swoop in your head, the world tilted and you faded into darkness.

-----

A soft beep permeated the dark, then another. And another. The rhythm continued in a steady tempo, pulling you from the depths and back to the light.

You opened your eyes slowly, squinting at the light. Cool blue walls and sleek monitors surrounded you. Fresh, cold air swept into your lungs through the nasal cannula slung lightly across your face.

A deep ache bloomed in your chest as you took in your next breath. You winced and looked down at yourself. You were in a hospital bed. Med bay at the Spider Society.

"Hey..." The low, gentle voice of Miguel almost startled you. He rose from a chair beside your bed. His mask was off, his brow furrowed in a way that made such concern look unfamiliar to his sharp features.

"You feeling okay?" He asked carefully.

You blinked, speechless for a moment. The fact that he was even here, waiting alone for you, was mind-boggling in itself.

"Yeah..." You rasped. Your throat was dry and you coughed a little, accidentally sparking the pain in your chest. Your face twisted. "I think I'm fine." You stared at the IV in your arm as Miguel remained standing there. You could feel his eyes on you.

"How do your lungs feel?" He asked. "Can you breathe okay?"

Fragments...your mind caught onto glimpses of memory. A destroyed office and server room. Gasping breaths. A hard wall cracking behind your back...

A deep soreness nested in your ribcage, making each breath feel tight and painful. But aside from that, every other part of your body seemed okay. You still had all your limbs intact and movement didn't seem too difficult, just deeply sore.

"Yeah..." You answered. "What happened?"

Miguel let out a breath, and you actually saw the tension in his shoulders loosen. You didn't realize how stiff he had been, standing there watching you like you were some unstable device about to fall apart.

He lowered himself to the chair again, and his expression smoothed over to his usual stony facade. "A couple broken ribs and a punctured lung." He supplied evenly. He stared, crimson eyes burrowing into yours. "Why were you there?"

More memories came back. You remembered his mission and your position in comms, watching the dots on the holo-screen at your desk—the way his green dot disappeared and your heart dropped. You thought the worst had happened.

"I was trying to find you." You said. "I thought you got hurt."

He shook his head slowly, eyes slipping away like that answer frustrated him. "You shouldn't have gone out there. Should have called back-up."

You frowned. "I...I was backup."

"No." His voice was firm. "Comms stays at base. You call anyone else. Anyone else besides you."

"I can handle—" your breath tightened, lungs flaring with brief pain before you forced yourself to continue. "I can handle a fight. You act like I've never been on missions before."

Sure, the fact that you were sitting here in med-bay didn't look good for the point you were trying to make. But you didn't want him thinking you were a  useless mess.

Miguel's jaw tightened as his eyes flickered over the monitors hooked up to you. "I didn't say that. I know you can hold your own, but that doesn't mean—" he stopped himself and shook his head. "Look, just don't do that again."

The reprimand stung. Here he was, criticizing you in your hospital bed as soon as you opened your eyes. Was that why he had been waiting here for you? To point out your mistakes?

"I went out there because I thought you were hurt, Miguel." You said firmly. "Or dead—I..." Your throat closed on your words as you remembered the panic you felt. "I wasn't thinking right because I thought that was it. I thought you were gone."

Miguel's rigid expression fractured, eyebrows pinching together. His hands gripped the armrests before he shut his eyes and released a strained breath from his nose. "And yet, you got hurt in the process." He muttered.

"Anyone else could have gotten hurt in my place."

"And I'd rather it not be you if I can help it." He shot back.

You went quiet, surprised by his outburst. It was one thing for him to be critical about the multiverse or missions, it was another to be passionate about certain people. And passionate about you nonetheless.

But then you realized something.

"Is that why you put me on comms so much?" You asked quietly.

He rubbed a hand down his face, not looking at you. "Yes." He answered, sounding reluctant. "It's safe."

You sighed softly. "You can't be the only one keeping people safe, you know. I want you to be safe too."

He stared at his lap, unanswering.

"That's why I went out there. Because I care about you." You swallowed, hearing your own heart skip a beat on the monitor behind you as you thought about all those times you found yourself thinking about him. Those times you could have told him your feelings, but didn't.

Miguel looked up finally, his expression rigid, but not entirely closed off.

"We need to trust each other, Miguel." You said. "I don't want to be on comms all the time. I want to be out on missions saving other people too. I want to prove that I can be a good hero to those who need me."

"You are good." He said, his eyes softening a little. "I never wanted you to doubt yourself on comms. But...if that change is what you really want..." He paused. "I can do that."

You smiled softly. You knew he was hesitant—you could see it in the way his mouth set in a firm line, and his eyebrows pushed lower over his earnest gaze—but at least he was trying. For you. "Thank you." You said sincerely.

He nodded, then stood from the chair. "Just don't get your hopes up yet. I'm not giving you any missions until you're fully healed."

You chuckled a little, wincing at the twinge it caused in your ribs. "Understood."

Miguel's eyes swept over your form, taking you in as you sat there, bandaged and hooked up to monitors but smiling nonetheless. He cleared his throat, his voice quieter. "I'm glad you're okay."

Warmth bloomed in your chest. You glanced down at the bedsheet over your lap, almost shy now. "It's probably because of you that I am. And I'm glad you're okay too. I really thought the worst."

He let out a wry breath. "I probably would have deserved it."

"Miguel—" You gave him a displeased glare.

"I know. I know." He waved a hand, turning to the door. "For now I need to fix the tracking system on the communications panel so this doesn't happen again." He looked back at you. "Make sure you get your rest."

You smiled. "I will."

You finished up in the bathroom and stepped out, flipping off the light. Miguel was there, stretched out on the bed in the soft lamplight. He lay on his back, His arm draped over his eyes and his foot propped up on the comforter. The other leg still hung over the edge like he couldn't be bothered to drag the rest of himself onto it.

"Hey, baby." You greeted softly. He hadn't moved or acknowledged you just yet, even though you knew he would have heard you in the house as soon as he stepped in—enhanced senses and all that. But even those senses got tired some days.

You crawled onto the bed and gently settled yourself against his side. The warmth of his body seeped into yours as you lay an arm across his middle, loosely hugging him. Miguel dragged his arm down from his eyes to rest it around your back, his fingers brushing your side like a feather.

"Work pretty busy today?" You murmured, tilting your head to prop your chin on his chest.

His responding hum was so deep that it rumbled against your chin. "Yeah." He mumbled roughly, like just speaking took effort.

Your lips turned down in a sympathetic pout. "I'm sorry, baby."

You slid your hand up across his chest and to his tight, muscular shoulders. You delicately squeezed and rubbed the muscle, attempting to massage away the stress he held there.

A soft noise of contentment emitted from his throat. Miguel's hand slid up your spine and stroked your hair, carding through the strands. "It helps coming back home to you." He said softly.

You shivered as his fingers brushed your scalp. A fond smile spread on your lips. "That's all I want for you." You whispered. "To make your days better."

His eyes cracked open finally, the sliver of deep red irises meeting your gaze. "You do."

His hand slipped from your hair so his thumb could stroke your cheek, lightly caressing the corner of your lips. You turned your head just enough to catch the pad of his thumb against the center of your lips, and you held his gaze as you kissed it gently.

His eyes softened, the lingering tension in his face finally draining away. His arms encircled you with a new strength, and he drew you up even closer against him, rolling onto his side as he curled you into his embrace.

Miguel's face buried into your neck and his whole chest swelled as he inhaled deeply. His fingers tightened briefly as if he was trying to cling to your form and drink in your very essence.

"Te amo." He murmured against the steady pulse in your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, and your own arms wrapped around his broad back, holding him tighter than before.

"I love you, too, Migs."

You shot a web to catch up, and wind whistled sharply past your ears. You were falling behind, staring at Miguel more than the city below. You needed to focus—do your job. Not gawk at your boss.

It was becoming more frequent now. You were always highly aware of where he was at in a room, and therefore more flustered and distracted, especially when talking to him. It was embarrassing, to say the least, but he never caught on. At least you hoped he didn't.

You blinked, coming back out of your thoughts and to the present. Back to work.

You swung, keeping your eyes trained on the ground. Thwip, swing, thwip, swing.

Your heart raced with the sensation of rising and falling, like you were on a playground swing again. You had grown used to the feeling after being spider-woman for so long, but sometimes, you could tap into that same butterfly feeling in your stomach and let your thoughts fly away like you had nothing in the world to worry about.

You zipped past the corner of a building, sticking your arm out and anticipating the pull of your webbing going taut.

It never came.

Suddenly, that light, butterfly feeling in your stomach increased tenfold, a blast of white-hot terror shooting all the way up your spine. Your limbs flailed, clawing through the air as blinding colors zoomed past you. In a panic, you shot your other arm up, attempting to expel a web. But in a blur of lights and whistling wind, You realized it hadn't worked. Both your web-shooters were out.

"Miguel!" His name erupted from your throat without another thought—a scream.

You tumbled through the air, trying to stabilize yourself so you could at least see and figure out how much time you had left before—

Your body collided with something hard. Your hands gripped on before you could realize what was happening.

"I got you—hold on." Miguel grunted beside your ear. Your breath heaved shakily from your lungs, your arms and legs wrapping around him automatically.

"Hang on." He said, right before he landed on a small ledge against the side of a building. His momentum crushed his body against you firmly enough that you wheezed. Metal crunched somewhere above your head—one of Miguel's clawed hands digging in to keep the both of you steady.

You pushed your mask off, needing to breathe without its confines. His own mask receded from his face in a flurry of pixels, exposing the intense furrow of his brow as he stared down at you. "You okay?"

Only then did the feeling of his body become quite clear. Your legs were still wrapped around him, limbs stiff from the terror that clung to you. But you were safe now—you had to tell yourself that. Slowly, you slid off him, making sure your feet had a stable position. The small ledge the both of you stood on did no favors for your proximity. His arm around your waist tightened to keep you stable, and suddenly, your heart had a very different reason to be pounding.

"Yeah, I'm...I'm fine. Thanks." You stuttered. Adrenaline still crackled in your body and pulsed in your fingertips. Your eyes drifted down to where your hand rested on his chest, right over his heart. It was beating against your palm just as fast as your own.

You swallowed, your gulp probably audible to him. He was close. Very close. The tight ledge gave little mercy for any space between your bodies, and every part of him that pressed against you set your skin alight with heat. It was a dangerous combination—your heart thrumming in your ears, your thoughts already awry, and the both of you too close. An urge to drag your hand down, feel those muscles of his beneath the brush of your fingers—

"What happened?" He asked, moving his arm from around your waist and grabbing your hand from his chest. He examined your wrist with a critical eye, rubbing his thumb there. "Your web-shooters malfunctioned?"

His hand holding yours only sent your brain into a deeper spiral of inappropriate thoughts. "I can't think." You muttered dumbly.

He dropped your wrist, sliding his hand up to the side of your face and tilting your head back. "Did you hit your head?"

Your eyes slammed shut and you shook your head. His touch and words were too much right now. If you hadn't been clinging to the last shred of composure with everything you still had, you would have turned into putty right in his hands.

You used that little bit of composure, turning it around and shoving it in the place of your annoying feelings and thoughts, hoping it stuck. A harsh breath rushed from your nose. The way Miguel's fingers felt in your hair at the nape of your neck almost pushed you to the edge again.

"I'm fine." You managed. A little sharply, but the words were out nonetheless. "I'm fine."

You opened your eyes once you felt calm enough to face him without cracking, and the tension in his own gaze softened the longer the two of you stared.

"You need better web-shooters." He muttered, eyes tracing down your body pressed against his before coming back up again. Like he only just noticed the kind of position you were in.

"Yeah." Your response was breathy, automatic. Your brain was wandering elsewhere once again, and your eyes dropped to his lips without thinking.

It seemed even the wind held its breath between you, the silence amplifying the rapid drum of your heart, hot and electric. Miguel's hand on your cheek weighed heavy, and your eyes slowly crawled back up, meeting such an intense gaze that it weakened your knees.

His thumb brushed just beside the soft curve of your lips. You didn't dare move—didn't want to. Your lips  parted. An invitation, perhaps.

Then he dropped his hand away.

The world snapped back into motion. Miguel straightened, jaw tightening as he pulled back, and heat bloomed in your cheeks. You were so sure he was about to lean in and close the gap, but it appeared you misjudged.

"We should go back." He said roughly.

You dropped your eyes and immediately regretted it as dizziness swelled up in your head. You had become so distracted that you forgot just how high up the two of you were.

You blinked, inhaling through your nose and steadying yourself. You could think about what happened later. Much later when you got home for the night. For now, you had to pretend like everything was fine.

Except for your initial problem.

You glanced around, assessing the city buildings. "I...don't have webs, though."

He looked down at your hands, then cleared his throat. His mask returned to cover his face. "I'll carry you."

Miguel wrapped an arm around your waist and hoisted you against him with ease. You tried very hard to keep your mind from straying as he swung all the way back to HQ, but it was difficult when your arms were looped around his neck and every muscle bunching and stretching in his shoulders was all too easily felt.You hoped that your own mask you had shoved back on could contain the heat in your face.

Once Miguel touched ground on the roof of HQ, you were already looking forward to escaping his distracting presence. But then he suggested he fix your web-shooters, and your heart clenched. The automatic urge to decline came up to your throat, but when you opened your mouth to speak, the words couldn't make it. Instead, a wobbly agreement came out.

Now, the two of you stood in his quiet lab, your wrist in his hand and his focus narrowed to the tiny mechanisms in your web-shooter. The both of you had removed your masks again in the comfort of HQ.

Unfortunately, that meant you had to strictly keep your eyes on his working hands for a long while to avoid staring at his pretty face.

"I'm glad you were there when my webs failed." You broke the silence carefully, looking up at him.

He paused his work, eyes lifting to yours. The ever-present crease between his brow softened just enough for you to notice. "Me too." He said quietly.

Then his gaze dropped back down, and he adjusted his hold on your wrist, the mask of concentration quickly returning to his face. He cleared his throat. "You got lucky."

"Yeah..." You let out a weak chuckle. "I did."

The warmth of his hand holding your wrist sank through your spider-suit and into your skin. Watching the movement of his hands got you thinking too much—thinking about that same heat of his palm pressed against your back after he caught you from the fall. The way his fingers splayed, his grip strong and steady.

You imagined that hand sliding down your spine, slow and unhurried. Confident like he was with anything else. Touching...elsewhere.

"You okay?"

You jolted at Miguel's question, glancing up at him. "Huh? Yeah, I'm fine." You said quickly, banishing those thoughts before they could get worse. Your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment—shame, even—and you tipped your head down to look at the floor so he couldn't see it.

He stared.

You didn't have to look. You could tell his eyes were on you just by how suffocating his silence was.

He drew a slow, quiet breath. "You're so skittish around me." He murmured, his tone careful. "It used to not be like that."

You looked up in surprise—and defense. You didn't think your conflicting thoughts and feelings had been spilling out so noticeably. And most of all, you didn't think he had been tracking it.

"I don't mean to." You blurted.

The furrow in his brow sharpened. "Then why?" He pressed. His eyes darted back and forth over your face. "Are you scared of me?"

"No! No—I...it's the opposite." You took a shuddering breath. Your heart was pounding again, and only now you realized what you just admitted.

Shock—or something close to relief—flashed in his eyes before he blinked, looking down as if he just remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Fixing your web-shooters. He stared at your wrist in his hand and his jaw tightened, just like it had earlier on the side of that building.

You didn't want him to pull away again. The truth was out now, so you blundered forward and hoped you weren't going to make things worse.

"I thought you were going to kiss me." You said, your chest tightening. You needed to get it out. Needed to know if it was real or if you had only imagined the way he leaned in. "Earlier. After you caught me."

His mouth was tight, and his eyes flickered.

"I thought about it." He finally said.

Your eyes searched his carefully composed face. He always made it nearly impossible to read him.

"And now?" You breathed.

He looked at you for several, long seconds. Then, his hand holding your wrist slid up to wrap around your fingers. He pressed your captured hand to his chest, like he was trying to hold the moment against him so it couldn't slip away. His throat cleared loosely. Nervous, perhaps.

"Now I...I'm thinking about trying again."

His other hand came up to cup your face, the gentle warmth nearly making you shiver. You didn't move. Didn't want to break this second chance as you stared up at him with wide eyes.

He began to lean down, but stopped halfway. "Is that okay?" He asked quietly, doubting even now.

"Yeah." A giggle bubbled up in your throat, entirely unintentional. He was actually going to kiss you. After all this time. You pressed your lips together to rein in the excitement. "It's very okay."

His lips quirked up at the corners, and he leaned in the rest of the way to kiss the stupidly-happy smile off your face.