Recollections

Fluff VIII

The Store

"The store?"

"Supermarket."

"Store."

"Supermarket."

My eyes hold his, not backing down. "It is a store."

"But it is where you buy food. It is a supermarket."

"You buy food at a restaurant too, is that a supermarket?" I question, being petty. Whatever it is about calling this store a "supermarket," apparently my brain doesn't like it.

"No, that's not what I meant!" He replies. His lips pull in a side smile, his chest bubbling with light laughter as he shakes his head. "Aye."

I roll my eyes. "We are going to the store," I finalize. He sighs and nods. He steps forward and pulls my hand in his, pulling me in with little effort and wrapping his arms around me in a hug. No matter how petty I feel, I can never say no to his hugs. They're gold.

"Store," He echoes, letting me mostly go, save for the hand he keeps held in his, our fingers entwining in a mixture of big working hands and petite writer's hands.

"You drive."

"Duh," I snort. "You cannot drive. You are terrible."

"Hey," He drawls, his eyes finding mine, his lip sticking out in a mock pout. I giggle and rub my thumb over his thumb the best I can in our hand-lock.

"No offense."

"Hm," He hums as though in thought. "No promises."

I open my mouth, ready to tell him that's not a time you would particularly use that sentence, but I shut my mouth again. English police are not usually appreciated, and times like this I can tell why.

I let my eyes to glance up at him often as we walk out of the house, the door closing behind us. The wind picks up wispy strands of my hair, making me thankful I put on a sweatshirt today.

We make our way into the car and make way to the store, listening to music without much of a word said between us. Not that I mind, nor do I think he does. I can feel his eyes burning into me the whole time, his hand having moved to my thigh so I had both hands to drive.

The motion of his thumb just about puts me to sleep, but the music keeps me awake and alert. The mellow drive is pulled to a stop when I park the car, unbuckling and shutting the car off. I glance at him once when I reach to grab my purse from the back.

His eyes shamelessly watch over my every move. I get my phone in my hand with my purse and watch him right back, though he is unwavering in his action. I open my mouth to question him, but he leans forward before I have time to react.

His lips press to mine, his hand reaching to my cheek to hold my lips against his, as though if he doesn't I'll pull away. Not in a million years would I pull back from this.

I close my eyes, breathing in his scent of dark mint and the deepest of woodsy scents which mix gloriously with his natural perfume. My mind goes dizzy under the contact, my hand reaching to grasp his arm as an anchor. My heart beats wildly, giving up nothing to me in mercy, even when he breaks the kiss first, keeping his forehead against mine.

My spine sends shivers over my skin, my exhale sounding ragged. He pulls back fully, his eyes meeting my fluttery ones.

"Okay?"

"Okay," I whisper. I smile and watch as he studies everything in my features, as it seems. His eyes glance all over, his thumb rubbing over my skin, over the button of my nose, over my cheekbone and rubbing over my temple.

"Beautiful," He mumbles. His eyes glance down at my lips once more, leaning down to capture me in this light, adoring moment. Our lips part only a bit, our lips seeming to caress the other. This moment seems to stop time completely, every sound and movement being made outside of our connection disappearing into nothingness as it feels like our hearts sync, beating with the other.

This time I pull back first. I instinctually let my head fall forward, my body leaning into him. Although the car's center console presses against my ribcage harshly, I pay no mind. I care only for the warmth I am engulfed in by leaning into his chest, his arm holding no hesitation in pulling me to him. He kisses my head, resting his head over mine.

We do not make it into the store for a while.

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