Tangled In Time

The Time To Choose

"Delightful," Blake murmured in response, his voice soft yet filled with a quiet satisfaction. His fingers grazed my cheek, their gentle pressure and warmth leaving an indelible mark. His gaze lingered on me, as though he was committing every detail to memory.

The sun streamed through the cottage windows, bathing the room in a golden glow that seemed to intensify the intimacy of the moment. He leaned closer, cradling my face in his hands with a tender yet resolute touch, and kissed me gently. His lips brushed mine before trailing to my cheek and back again, each kiss more deliberate, more grounding.

My heart fluttered, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm me, but I couldn't bring myself to pull away. His fingertips moved with deliberate care, brushing my hair back from my neck, the cool air against my skin making me shiver.

"If you stayed," Blake murmured against my skin, his voice low, "you would have to marry me."

My laughter danced through the cottage, breaking the tension as the sun's golden light streaked across the room. The soft sound of it mingled with the warmth of his lips as he pressed them gently against my neck.

I could feel him smiling against my skin. "I'm not joking," he added, his tone more serious.

I craved more time with him, but the burden of my family's anguish, not knowing what had become of me, weighed down my heart. I had no idea what they thought had happened to me. Were they missing me? Had they called the police?

I had no idea how time worked between here and there. It seemed to move slowly from what the journals had suggested, but who knows how much time had passed in my own time. Part of me yearned to say that I would leave and then come back, but I knew I didn't belong here. I may belong with Blake, but I don't belong in this time.

"It's a good job I'm not staying then," I replied playfully, a jest that hid the ache in my heart.

Blake sighed softly, his warm lips pressing against the delicate skin of my neck. His fingers traced a path down my spine, sending jolts of electricity through me with each touch.

"I'm too young to marry, sorry," I laughed as he pulled away.

"We would get married and then go on a long honeymoon," he teased, his grin making my heart flutter despite myself.

I rolled my eyes and laughed as he took my hand in his.

"What would you like to do with your last day?" he asked, pulling away from me slightly, though his hand lingered on mine.

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. "I just want to spend it with you," I smiled, trying to keep my voice light.

Blake's thumb gently brushed across the back of my hand, his gaze softening. "Today isn't your last day," he murmured, his voice low and warm, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. "We've already started today, haven't we? That means I still have all of tomorrow with you. You can leave the day after, if you must."

My heart twisted at his words. The way he said it wasn't demanding, but rather a tender plea wrapped in logic. It wasn't about keeping me here; it was about making the most of every moment we had left.

"Locked up in this cottage all day does sound rather appealing," I admitted with a playful glint in my eye, "but perhaps we should make the most of our time together."

He raised his eyebrows, his lips curving into that roguish grin I was quickly growing to adore. "And that wouldn't be making the most of our time?"

Blake's tone was light, but his eyes betrayed the pull of emotions neither of us could name. His thumb brushed slow, deliberate circles on the back of my hand, the warmth of his touch grounding me even as my heart raced.

His free hand reached up, gently trailing along my hairline before tucking a loose strand behind my ear. His fingers lingered there, tracing the curve of my cheek with a touch so light it sent a shiver down my spine. His lips tilted into a faint, almost uncertain smile before he leaned closer.

The kiss was tender at first, his lips brushing mine with a care that made my chest ache. But then, as though something broke within him, it deepened. Blake's hands shifted, one slipping to the small of my back while the other cradled my jaw. His urgency ignited something within me—a spark that became a flame as I kissed him back, my hands sliding to his jaw, fingers brushing against the faint stubble there.

I pulled back just enough to look at him, my breath catching as I noticed the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose—tiny details I hadn't seen before, as though the light had shifted and shown me a new side of him. My fingers traced along his jaw, I kissed him again.

His grip on me tightened as he pulled me onto his lap, the sudden motion making his breath hitch. My knees settled on either side of his legs, and I felt his chest rise against mine as the kiss deepened. The world outside the cottage seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of us in this moment.

Blake's lips moved to my shoulder, brushing against the bare skin there, his breath warm and uneven. His fingers curled at my waist, and the intensity of the moment swept away any lingering hesitation. I felt his stubble graze against my skin as he kissed a trail up from my shoulder to my neck, the sensation making my toes curl.

My hands moved to his shirt, fingers brushing the fabric as I began to untuck it, needing to feel closer to him. His breath hitched again, and a soft, almost involuntary sound escaped him—a sound that sent heat rushing through me.

In that instant, I couldn't see myself leaving him. I didn't know how I could. The thought of returning to my own time, leaving him behind, felt impossible. I pressed my lips to his again, pouring every ounce of longing and fear into the kiss.

And then, just as I felt his hands slide higher along my back, a sound outside the cottage broke through the haze. My lips froze against his, and Blake stilled beneath me, his hands still resting against my waist.

We both listened, the sound  quiet but distinct—a rustling, as though someone or something moved outside beneath the window. Reality came crashing back around us, the intimacy of the moment interrupted by the reminder of the world beyond these walls.
Charlotte maybe ?