Came for the Low- Revised

Untitled Part 28

In the dark and comforting silence of night, Helmut lay facing Christine, their bodies covered by the cool sheets and nothing more. He reached and slipped her hair behind her ear to see how peacefully she slept, her face highlighted by a band of moonlight coming through the windows.

He watched her breathing, watched her brows knit with a frown before relaxing, and smiled when she sighed softly and settled closer to him without realizing. He almost kissed her but worried she might wake up and end the moment before he was ready.

He needed this.

He needed to commit to memory all the details about her face that he loved. Like how her lips parted just a little to lure him in, and how her long lashes touched the tops of her cheeks when her eyes were closed. He'd noticed these things before of course—but tonight, in the quiet of their room— it felt as though he was looking at her for the first time.

And when will I see her like this again? He wondered trying not to consider the possibility of the answer being never because tomorrow he would have to say goodbye.

Giving in, he stroked her face, careful not to wake her. It was late, probably closer to morning than night and she would need the rest before she faced the day, although he still felt guilty for letting her sleep without telling her the truth. Not that she hadn't tried to get it out of him. Zemo smiled remembering how she'd thrown a pillow at his head which he caught...

He chuckled softly apologizing under his breath. She'd given him hell, but in the end, after the shouting and pleading, she'd stopped and looked up at him with her black eyes full of tears and simply said "Okay"

It crushed him to see her give in even if he was the one insisting on it. Christine was not the sort of woman to concede, but she knew that he would never ask for this level of blind trust from him if it weren't a matter of life and death.

After the fighting stopped and she sensed that the worst was coming, they'd practically ripped one another's clothes off—the sex as desperate as it was loving. He'd pushed her against the wall and held her hips as he took her from behind, watching the muscle of her back flex as he listened to her moaning in sync with his rhythm. He'd nearly come from it, but she wanted to see him. So she'd turned around, pushed him to the floor, tossed her leg over both of his to mount him and rode the man into oblivion, until he nearly forgot the awful reality creeping in on them.

Of course Christine knew even without him telling her. She was smart and intuitive, she knew that this was it. So they'd tried to consume one another in some mad attempt to hold onto their lives and had damn near succeeded.

Zemo smiled now, his body still humming from the comedown and very lightly touched the necklace she wore. It was the one he'd given her for her birthday when Ansel was only a few months old. She'd never taken it off. Not once.

With a sigh he drew his hand back and looked to the windows wondering how one might keep the memories alive through the distance. Yes he'd done it once, but that had driven him to revenge. He regretted nothing of course, but hoped this time he might aspire to more.

The world was still wrong, even after all his success it was not worthy of her or his children...but then there would be plenty of time to work through the many plans and ideas that seemed to sprout in his mind like leaks in a boat until he was inevitably flooded with ways to win this never ending fight.

Christine stirred again, reaching for him. He took her hand and kissed the back of it and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.

Enough, he told himself. There would be too much time for those thoughts very soon. For now he just wanted to be her husband and love this woman until the sun stole the night from them.