“I like this, being so close to you.”
she’s no stranger to roughing it . tent , fire , and bedroll have become a home replacement . but this ? a foreign experience altogether. for now , she is not the sole inhabitant ( barring , perhaps , jack ) of such cozy accommodations . now , her bedroll is positioned snug against another , her shoulder brushing occasionally against a larger one. not even in shady belle , as they resided in close quarters ( she on the bed , and he respectably next to her on the floor ) did she expect to end up like this: together , voluntarily.
the softness with which he speaks to her fills a hole in her heart she had not realized existed - not until there was softness to be found . fingers that were only just tracing patterns into john’s forearm pause. her eyes close and she smiles. ❛❛ ain’t so bad . ❜❜
she cannot let the half-hearted admission on her part stand for too long. she’s far better with words , and his mean so very much . abigail turns onto her side , facing him. the back of her hand gently grazes the side of his face , ghosting his scars and his mouth before gently attempting to tip his chin downward. a long moment is spent looking at him , making out what she can of his vaguely illuminated face. then, she presses a brief, smile-laden kiss to his lips.
❛❛ me too , john. it’s real nice. ❜❜
what she does not say is that while a tent and bedroll might be all there is , while they might be struggling to make it , this is the closes she’s ever felt to a home . after all that has happened between them , being so close to him might mean that home isn’t so far off. quietly , she inches closer , rests her forehead against his chest , and yawns.
❛❛ i’m goin’ to sleep now , ‘kay ? ❜❜
@enturmoiled ( soft sentence starters ! )