GUN IN MY HAND

CHAPTER 22: METEOR SHOWER

'No words spoken

I still speak your language

That's what we do

Let the story

In between those pages'

"Your scones are really good." Blade licked greedily his fingers, savoring the last crumbs of the pastries.

"Thanks, but they're my mom's. I can't cook." I wriggled my feet, which were sliding between his calves, as a fresh breeze made me shiver.

The air wasn't as warm as when we'd taken off our shoes a few hours before, but I liked too much the feeling of the grass tickling my toes, along with the contrast of his rough jeans, to put my shoes back on. Besides, the goosebumps forming more and more on my skin may have been for a totally different reason as his mischievous gaze dived in mine and he leaned closer.

"You have other talents."

I wasn't sure it was a good thing, but through the wicked spark of his eyes, he always made me feel like it... like a shooting star.

"Speaking of this, lie down." The words sounded worse in the dim lighting of the candles I'd lit than in my head, and even more as he leaned back, his hands behind his head and his tall and strong body spreading on the small plaid blanket, which made the view from my seated position too close dizzying.

"That's words I like to hear..."

"Stop thinking down there." I didn't dare to point 'down there', and I just rolled my eyes, at least, thankful for the darkness concealing the blood rushing to my cheeks, even if it didn't dim the devious sparkle in his eyes.

The bad intention wasn't far. It had been hovering around with each languorous kiss we'd shared tonight and each lingering touch from our fingers to our brushing feet. It hadn't even left when we'd played with the cards I'd brought, neither with our small picnic. It actually had been in my mind too since our first date, tickling my nerves for more. Yet in front, and more exactly, above his imposing body, I was reducing to a mess of nerves again.

It wasn't the point in this instant anyway.

I leaned on my hands next to his head, hovering over his Cheshire cat's smile. "Look above." I matched his grin, pointing to the dark sky and lying next to him, although my attention remained turned to him.

"The stars?" His smile stayed as wide, but it was brighter as he glanced down at me, and it turned into one of his raspy chuckles when I replied,

"The shooting stars!" My cheerful voice echoing through the silent night may have sounded casual, yet the strong bangs of my heart following weren't. 

With them, each detail of this moment appeared of an utmost, cosmic importance: the switch of his gaze from intently piercing to penetratingly intense, the faint melody of a few spring crickets along with our steady breaths, the darkness around that made our figures barely visible around but that made the sky more dazzling, the light shakes of my fingers as I slowly slid them between his, the goosebumps that followed on my skin, and which weren't because of the breeze, the brush of his skin as he brought me closer anyway, all the shimmering slivers of light, and when I turned to the sky above, even more dazzling twinkles.

For me, this whole moment, which stretched out little by little, was of an utmost importance: watching the stars with Blade, together.

When I risked a sideways glance and his gaze was lost in the infinite above, my heart rate soared a little bit more.