Adore~ an Alias Grace fanfic~

Part 19

Dr. Jordan (five months later)

It's a cool afternoon but the snow still has not fallen. I started a fire a few hours ago and told you to go and sit next to it since you had been wanting to sew all morning. You had made a beautiful quilt in your spare time over these past few months here and insisted I have it. As I approach the fire place the sight of you curled up in front of it warms me more than the heat of the flames. You look so content and tired but not from exertion but comfort. Your eyelids droop slightly but you stir awake and continue sewing at the fabric in your hands. Several times I have had to go into town and restock your supply of fabric which I had no complaints about if it meant seeing that purposeful glint in your eye every time you began a project.
You notice me staring and a small blush stains your cheeks.
"Why don't you come sit and work on that square of yours," you say. Over the past few weeks as I have been spending more time inside due to the weather, you have been instructing me on how to sew. At first I was partial to it but when I saw that it made you light up at the proposition of teaching me I could not decline.
I sit beside you and you pull out a patch with a clumsy few stitches about it. You let me choose the colors I wanted but I could tell even with your mask of approval that you detested the assortment I decided on.
You guide my hand into the correct position to sew, your breath lightly fluttering against my skin, a cooling contrast to the heat of the fire.
"Remember not to have your finger directly beneath where you puncture..." you say in a soft whisper, eyes focused on my hand. The first time you showed me I had managed to accidentally prick myself which you had made a big fuss over even after I reassured you many times it was alright. You always seemed to be so overly concerned, it was quite precious.
As you instruct me I cannot keep myself from admiring your focused expression looking  so scrutinizing. You glance up for a split second and look away immediately but I see the corner of your mouth force itself down.
You continue to gingerly assist me in my project and I will admit that at times I did not particularly try hard to improve myself if it meant you would adjust my method.
Moments such as this were when I became so close to telling you what my heart has felt all this time. When you looked how I thought you always deserved to feel or when you made it so easy for me to move but an inch closer and... but I could not. I am only waiting now. I always have to stop myself because I know that in your heart you have not prepared yourself to love again. I know you have an abundance inside of you but your life has beens stricken with grief so often that I cannot do something like that to you until you give me a sign. Any sign that can tell me that you are ready and willing to love again. And I will wait for as long as you need or even want because I have the time to. We both do. But as long as I am waiting for, I will be available and willing and forever open for whenever that time comes.
And so we sit by the fire with fabric in our hands for the rest of the night.

Grace

"Thank you," I am smiling before you come in with the eggs. Lately I have had such an odd tendency to continuously wear the slightest smile on my lips. It is almost against my own will that I rest my face and feel immediately the sense of calm and relief pull my lips taught. When you brought me to your house that day I think it was the very first time I ever felt a sense of pure peace.
You set the basket on the counter, "need any help with the rest of it?"
I shake my head, "no, you can sit for a while."
"Really, no help at all?"
"No! Now go and sit, for goodness' sake!"
You chuckle and sit at the counter and watch me. You did this a lot but I did not mind. In fact I think I welcomed it. More than that, I craved it.
Your gaze burns into me and the heat grows and branches up my neck to my cheeks. I am just glad that I am not facing you or you might burst into laughter at the state of my coloration.
More recently I have become aware of your advances. A few months ago I might be avoidant due to the circumstances at the time, but now I am just waiting for you to act upon it. I understand that you are cautious of my frailty but there is a need deep inside of me that I am so anxious to set free at last.
"Why don't you come and help me cut these, actually," I say it without turning to face you. You approach from behind me and stand beside where I stand, leaning against the counter with one arm.
"These," I hand you the sack of carrots.
You nod and grab the knife I hand to you.
Every so often I catch a glance at you and every so often I catch you glancing back.
Once we are finished making the meal we sit and eat at the table.
"Have you ever danced?" You ask.
My brows draw in, "have I danced? No, not really I suppose..."
"Never?" You look slightly shocked but with a hint of tease.
I shake my head.
"May I show you?" You stand from your chair and reach your hand over to me.
I hesitate, surprised at the forwardness. I grab your hand, "but there is no music."
"Listen to the birds, Grace, are they not music enough?" You grab my waist and pull me closer to you, your other holding my hand delicately to the side. My heart hammers in my chest.
I listen to the birds outside. Outside, that was the issue. I pull myself from you and grab your hand to lead you outside to the porch and the honey tinted sky.
"I can hear them better out here," I say quietly.
You tilt your head, "true." And replace my hands back to where they were before. We begin to sway and you show me a step pattern that seems simple enough to do without thinking. After a few seconds I am able to move quite carelessly. You then take both of my hands and put them on your shoulders so that you can place both yours on my waist. My breath catches.
There is a strain in your brow, soft enough to pity. I want to wipe it away with my hand but I don't. But I do. I reach my fingers up to your forehead and brush the hairs from it.
You grab my wrist, delicate, "Grace..."
We stand like this for some time and I use my free hand to cup the side of your face.
"Don't do that, Grace—" your voice is weak, not trying to hide a poor agony.
"What?"
"I cannot keep myself from— from..." you let go of me and step back.
"From what?"
"Grace, I have this—this care for you..." you sound so defeated, "blasted—I adore you, Grace, with my entire soul. Beyond the scope of time and memory, more than I can explain in words," your voice catches and you look as though you might grab my shoulders but seem to put a restrain on yourself, " and I want to kiss you every second I look at you, Grace, you have no idea— I can't look at you with— without— Oh, Grace I love you and I think it is making me crazy—"
I crash my lips into yours, pulling you to me by your collar. At first you are completely still and your eyes look wild and wide but then you melt to my touch and scoop me into your arms. My heart rises above me and into the sky and my head is weightless of every doubt and fear I have ever had.
"Grace, I love you." You press a kiss to my temple, "I love you," you mumble and kiss my forehead, "I love you," on my jaw, " I love you," my lips, "I adore you Grace, I do truly, I do—" you pull away with a smile spreads across your face. A soft smile that I have seen only when you look at me. And in that moment I feel so proud, so accomplished and at last I am happy. I am proud that I make you smile in such a way and only at me and I am so very happy for every reason there might be.
I cup your face in my hands, "I love you."
You kiss me again and I hug you so tightly I might stop breathing but it is so very worth it is so so worth it.

A/N
Cool so they're happy now ig...😒😒 like actually get over it dorks...
Xx