Feels Like Home

Warming up

MC's POV:

"Finally". He sighs as the door shuts behind us. He rushes across the room and pulls a blanket off of the couch, wrapping it around me from behind. He rubs my arms with his hands and then engulfs me in his toned arms.

The room is warm and inviting, nothing like I would expect from my hacker. A fire is roaring in the fireplace. Opposite sits a well-loved couch, the kind that draws you in. The table in front holds a laptop mixed with dog-eared books and sketch pads, a DIY book that explains the repair of faulty faucets, and some legal forms. The glow from the fire allows light and shadow to dance on the walls. Music plays softly in the background. It is a woman singing of love found and lost and found again. It is romantic and intoxicating. I wonder if it is the room or the man I am with or both that makes me feel so alive, every sense is aware of what is going on. Standing in his arms I feel... cherished. Something that has never been important to someone like me. I love my independence and my ability to take care of myself, but with him, I don't feel the need to fight. I can let him hold me and love me and that is enough.

There is a kitchen behind, and the smell of coffee wafts through the cabin. One room, no, two, lies behind the kitchen on opposite sides. The walls are covered in warm tones and I feel immediately calm and cared for by this place somehow. There is a feeling, and aura, of genuine love, emanating from its very walls.

His arms are still wrapped around my body, I can feel his breath on my ear and I shiver. He backs off, moving his hands to my waist thinking the shiver is because of the cold and not because he is so close and that I am in his arms.

"Finally?" I ask as I turn around and intertwine our fingers, refusing to let him go. I hope he meant that we are finally free to love each other, to have a home and a future. Hoping that he is just finally ready to be with each other for all of the moments big and little.

He takes my hand and pulls me gently to the couch, sitting me down beside him. He grabs my other hand as he does. "Finally," he speaks soft and low, matching the soft tapping of the rain. "I am with you, here, free, able to fully love and be loved. Finally, where I belong and can allow myself to belong." His eyes lock onto mine. I don't know what to say. I feel the same like my life has led to this moment, in this space, with this amazing man and the most beautiful eyes I have ever known. Eyes that are gazing into mine, full of love. I hope he can see the love in my own eyes, and feel the truth of what we are meant to be. We stay like this for a few minutes. It seems like minutes, but it also seems like hours, and it seems not long enough somehow. Time isn't important when I am in his arms. Too many thoughts are rolling around in my brain, none of them forming into words. I am not holding back, just enjoying the warmth of the fire, the warmth of him, the warmth of my heart.

He, too quickly, in my opinion, breaks the spell and stands up, leaving me on the couch. "I must admit," he says over his shoulder as he walks into the kitchen, "I am quite distracted by you and am neglecting my responsibilities in your regard. I am supposed to be warming you up." He smirks.

I feel the loss of him by my side. "I thought that you were warming me up," I say as I pat the couch next to me. "There are lots of ways to complete your task." I raise my eyebrows in mock flirtation. So what if I really do want him to come back and sit by me?

"We have plenty of time for that, don't worry. I've waited far too long for you to be here, too long for me to be with you. My whole life, it seems. I won't be away from you for long, but I refuse to let you get sick." His smile is so tender, he lowers his gaze, a blush on his cheeks. "...and, I want to get you the coffee I promised and some warm clothes." He looks up at me and smiles. I melt. He pours in a smooth and steady motion, filling my cup. I take him in. He is graceful and smooth in a way that I never expected. He is exact and careful, but confident. Adding a little milk and some honey, he makes my coffee just like I love it without having to ask. There is something so appealing about that as if he has complete knowledge of me.