Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 77: Sins And Secrets

Warmth, heat, the encompassing scent of him.

Waking to the warm spear of sunlight through the tent flap and the heat of a body next to hers was a savory delight from the frigid environment of The Prydwen. Enough so that it pushed a somnolent smile on her lips to annihilate the dread of her existence.

Kelly stirred lightly to glance over at Danse's sleeping face smeared into the back of her neck. His warm breath spread gooseflesh down her back and she lay smothered in them for a moment, basking in the pleasure of his hold. They were snuggled back into one sleeping roll together, his arms in a possessive hold of her in the thrall of his sleep, one outside of the roll thrown territorially over her waist, the other folded up from beneath her to cradle a breast.

Danse was definitely a boob man, she had discovered.

Her smile lengthened as she indulged in the sight of his peaceful features. She ran a feather light finger across the grizzled expanse of his jaw, watching as his eyes flickered beneath his lids, her touch inducing dreams. Hopefully pleasant ones.

Their sleep hadn't been disturbed by his nightmares, and it was a good sign that her presence helped ease his brutal anxieties.

The thought of his internal warfare brought about her own, and with a suppressed gasp, she flicked her eyes around the tent, the fear of seeing Nate suddenly upon her. What would he do if he saw her lying with another man? Would he grow angry with her, bloat up with jealously, try to hurt Danse?

Satisfied that Nate was absent, Kelly again checked over Danse with a protective eye until she was sure he was unharmed, just out to the world. She wanted nothing more than to sift him awake with kisses, but after he had managed to coax her straight into bed after a quick meal last night, she was burning with a rotten need that was dragging her out of his hold and from the sleeping roll.

Amazingly, her escapee movements didn't wake him. It was so amazing it was bizarre. Danse was usually the lightest sleeper to ever walk the wastes, alert at the drop of a pin, the kind of man that threw an auto-punch when startled, but he was so deep under that he didn't utter a single groan or twitch in protest.

His peace brought her so much joy that it stalled the burn in her veins and allowed her heart to swell with an overwhelming love. Kelly perched on her knees next to him for a moment, just gorging herself on the sight of his serene breathing. He must have been inhumanly exhausted over the past few days.

Worrying over her, she realized. It pinched at her chest with guilt.

The burning inside her veins was calling more incessantly by the second. Trembles were already taking a pitiful hold of her limbs, and when she leaned forward to settle a kiss on Danse's smoothed forehead, it was an effort not to tremble against him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered before the burning call drew her away to sin. Stealthily, she pulled on her boots and slipped out through the tent flap, sucking in a bright blast of the morning sun and squinting from it's wrath. Her eyeballs seemed to be yelling behind her sockets.

Tucking her hair away from her face, she found that most were still asleep, the camp a desolate clearing with scatterings of cooking utensils and food scraps circling the fireplace. The telltale aroma of cigarette smoke teased her nostrils, and Kelly spotted the pale wisps lifting up from the netting canopy MacCready and Deacon had pulled together over the crew tent.