Love Is Blind ~ Fuffy ~ Complete to Part 5

//Part 5//

Suffused only briefly in the gracious occupancy of sleep; I find myself roused suddenly. Her voice pours sweetly against my cheek, while the clutch of anxious arms secures me against her chest. Startled, I intake a small breath, my blank vision foggy beneath the stillness of my eyelids, as I fight to absorb the intoxicating momentum of her words.

“-which is stupid I know, because when we’re together it feels like nothing else, and all I want to do is kiss you.”

“Kiss me?” I echo, my forgetful eyes searching for the outline of her face in the darkness. “But you said-”

“I know, I know all that, and that’s why we can’t, because I don’t trust you. I don’t trust you not to hurt me, Faith.” Buffy’s voice trembles and her body falls limp, her devoted hold on my assailable body waning.

“How,” I pause to compose myself, my chest filling with the familiar pressure of worthlessness, “how can I prove to you that I’ve changed, B? You know, I never lied to you about how I feel, and maybe it wasn’t what you wanted to hear back then, but now I’m telling you it’s different. Can’t you see that?”

“And why’s it different, Faith? Because you actually need someone for once and I just happen to be around?”

“It’s not like that!”

“So what is it like then? You’ve never taken the time to open up to me before, what’s changed?” My muscles tense, delivering a physical warning that’s screaming at me to get out while I still can. Fuck, maybe she’s right, maybe I can’t do this.

“Okay then, B, if this is how you want it I’ll lay it out on a fuckin’ plate for you. Maybe it is just that I need you, maybe deep down that really is all there is to it, but so what? The fact is, this accident,” I gesture to my eyes with an incensed wave of my hand, “it’s not going away, I’m stuck with it, so if you wanna be real logical about it, that means you’re stuck with me too. So we either sit here, pissing about with our feelings, pretending not to notice how crazy we make each other, or we do something about it. Your choice, Blondie, and make it final, because I sick of all this crap.”

The room sinks into an intrepid silence, both our breaths suddenly cease to exist, and I strain my ears to catch at least a whisper of her beating heart to confirm the absoluteness of her presence.

Immediate doubt radiates from my hands; they remain still, but aching, no burning, from the wretched cramp of my clenched fists. Slowly, still soundlessly, her head turns, her body shifts, and I imagine her to be looking down on me, wild, damp, blonde hair sticking to the pastel pearl of her skin – and then she kisses me.

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She kisses me with unbridled curiosity and adoration, her lips parting softly over mine as her hands cup my cheeks and then slide laxly into the tumultuous waves of my hair. My fingers unclasp, fluttering to the base of her neck, where I pull her closer to me and plant gentle kisses on her top lip.

She smiles beneath my lips and rolls me flat against the mattress, her body now straddling mine as she breaks free and begins to brandish my cheeks with gentle, whispered kisses. Her hands fall still, tangled loosely in my hair, as she returns to my eager mouth and teases the tip of her tongue over mine.

Insistently I tilt and raise my head, longing to be consumed by the full velvet of her mouth, but she pulls back playfully, her hands wandering to my bare upper arms and forcing me back down.

“Faith,” She begins quietly, her mouth just barely touching mine, “if this is going to work…” Buffy trails off and releases a shallow, warm breath. I wet my lips slowly, my hands drifting above my head and leaving me in a tantalisingly vulnerable position.

I swear I hear her grin as her hands glide up the insides of my arms and clasp my wrists.

“If this is going to work,” she continues suddenly, “then we play by my rules. Okay?” I feel her lips drawing closer to mine, signalling all I need do is kiss her to surrender my rights in this relationship. If you even call something like this a relationship that is.

“B?” I murmur, lifting my chin and lazily parting my lips.

“Yes?” She responds, releasing one my wrists to toy with the hem of my towel. I wrap my free hand around her waist, my hips pressing fiercely against her weight as her mouth begins to descend on mine.

Suddenly, I tighten my grip on her waist and roll her sideways. She gasps and shouts my name, her hands grappling with the covers as we fall heavily onto the floor, her body wedged beneath mine.

Wickedly, I seize the opportunity to grasp her lower lip, my hands pinning her down at the shoulders, as I begin to suck and tug at the tender flesh, causing her to squirm and whimper with fevered delight.

“And, B,” I query, pulling back momentarily, our chests both rising and falling at an alarming rate, “about that me playing by your rules thing? Never gonna happen.”

Without a word she flips me over, not wasting a second to gloat as her lips crash against mine.

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We lay in a cataclysmic heap, lips numb and bodies aching from the repeated battles of strength and stamina.

I lay sprawled across her stomach, my forehead resting on her naval as I plant idle kisses on the flat of her abdomen at irregular intervals; just to remind her of how we are right now. She returns the favour by tracing delicate circles in the palm of my left hand, her index finger occasionally just tickling the centre because she knows I like that – how I don’t know.

“Are you okay?” I grunt, rolling onto my back and exposing my breasts. The towel came loose some time ago, and hey, I’m blind so not a chance in hell of finding it even if I wanted to.

“Kind of scared, you know?” Her voice seems small and far away; I begin to wonder if she’s having second thoughts and so squeeze her hand tightly.

“Look, if this is too much for you-”

“It is!” Buffy exclaims, startling me somewhat. “Faith, we just made out!”

“Good to know you were paying attention, B.” I deadpan, my eyebrows rising.

“No, Faith, we just, as in only, made out!”

“Huh?” She sighs pensively at my lack of understanding and, after a short scuffle, throws some material onto my chest. “Thanks.” I mutter, clutching the unknown fabric.

“Well, you looked cold.” Buffy exclaims with a rapid clearing of her throat. “Anyway-”

“So you were looking, hey?” I grin, receiving a short and sharp slap.

“ANYWAY, what I’m trying to say is-stop grinning-that this was just making out and, Faith, we trashed my bed, I have carpet burns like everywhere-”

“Everywhere, are you serious?” I chuckle.

“Shut up! And you’re naked! How did you get naked?”

“Don’t ask me, girlfriend.”

“And I think I hurt my back you know, what with you throwing me off the bed like that!”

“Throwing you off the-? Buffy, hello, I’m blind! I didn’t know you were perched!”

“I wasn’t perched! Urgh, anyway, I’m just saying that I’m kind of worried for the house and my medical bill if this thing between us goes any further.”

“So?” I shrug. “I don’t care.”

“Well, that’s just typical!”

“I’m not not-having sex with you just because you’re worried it might get a bit out of hand!”

“I didn’t say we wouldn’t have sex! I’m just saying that maybe we should be more careful next time.”

“Oh right, yeah, I’ll bring the bubble wrap.” I reply sarcastically; she flicks my shoulder.

“What I mean is, grouchy pants, we need more space.”

“Oh.” I relent, rubbing my shoulder. “Like where, the great outdoors?”

“Sure, somewhere like that.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something?” I mutter, allowing her to pull me to my feet.

“Probably because I’m not…” She whispers, her lips settling on mine as we back unsteadily into a nearby wall. “Now,” Buffy instructs, “you wait right here while I try and put the bed back together, okay?”

“It’s that bad, huh?” I question, my memory flickering back to the passionate kick that connected with something hard that caused a huge crash.

“Faith, you kicked one of the legs off. I now own a three legged bed; I don’t think it gets much worse than that.”

“Sorry?” I try hopefully, leaning in for another kiss.

“Oh, believe me, you will be.” She growls.