Bad Things

28. Belong

  

How much pain has cracked your soul?
How much love would make you whole?
You're my guiding lightning strike
I can't find the words to say
They're overdue
I've traveled half the world to say
I belong to you

- Muse.

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Warning:

Fluffs and major mature content ahead.

You're warn, love.

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The last fingers of sunlight slipped slowly across Shawn's room, retreating along the carpet, over the colorless sheets, and mingling amongst the strands of Camila's hair. The sections left in the shadows appeared almost black in color, while the lighted parts burned a bright, fiery brown. Shawn had been lying there for over an hour, just looking at her, watching the gentle movement of her shoulders as she breathed the rhythmic breaths of sleep.

He wanted to touch her, to run his fingers along the curve of her bare side, to follow the lines of her hip until it disappeared under the thin, white sheet, but he didn't dare. For the first time in a long time, she looked happy, serene. There were no stress lines on her forehead, no glint of worry tainting the chocolate of her eyes; there was only quiet and softness and peace. And so he just watched. Watched and waited for her to awaken.

A vibrating buzz sounded from across the room on Shawn's desk. His gaze lifted and he spotted the bright illumination of his cell phone screen. He didn't bother getting up; he knew who it would be and he had no desire to talk to him right now. The only thing Shawn wanted was to lie right there, to let himself bask in the afterglow and forget about all the other shit trying to barge in on the moment. Benedict Rayes could wait. The trial could wait. It could all just God-damn wait.

Camila let out a breath and shifted slightly on the bed, locks of hair falling over her shoulder and hiding even more of her naked body from Shawn's stare. All that was visible now was her face, the curve of her arm, and her stomach. Her breaths returned to the steady, soft pace they'd held before, and Shawn, unable to help himself, reached out and carefully slipped his fingers under a curl that had fallen over her face. Camila scrunched her freckled nose as the strands whispered across her cheek, and Shawn grinned at her expression. She was just so damn adorable

And God, he loved her.

Shawn lifted carefully and tucked the hair back over her shoulder. His fingers lingered just above her skin, and he swore he could feel the spark and heat of her crossing the divide between them. It made him want to pull her back into him, to join their bodies once more, to feel every single inch of her, steal each degree of heat, to show her again and again and again all the things he couldn't express with words.

He exhaled loudly and forced himself to focus back on her face, wincing when, even in the dying light, he could still make out the tear tracks staining her cheeks. His chest filled with the same helpless heaviness it had held earlier. As much as he wished he could, he couldn't stop himself from remembering how it had felt to hold her while she'd shed them.