Starlight

XXV: As Long As You're Mine

Say there's no future
For us as a pair
And though I may know
I don't care
Just for this moment
As long as you're mine
Come be how you want to
And see how bright we shine
Borrow the moonlight
Until it is through
And know I'll be here holding you

- 'As Long As You're Mine', Wicked

xx.xx

Stirring from sleep. Soft sheets. Soft light streaming in: the moon and her stars. Bars on the window.

And him, slumbering there.

Slowly, Robbie awoke, her senses returning to her one by one.

She sat up to take in her surroundings; having woken up somewhere other than her own apartment at 3 am she was a little disorientated. The sight of Henry sleeping soundly next to her instantly grounded her - as did the delicate cotton against her skin, warmed by their bodies and scented with his cologne. She was in his bedroom.

The moon cast her light, pale and blue, through the barred window. The shadows streaked his face, his lips parted slightly, the room quiet enough to hear his gentle breathing.

Within a few moments, though, she realized why she had woken: there was a low rumbling in the distance, belonging to a thunderstorm too far away to matter.

How comforting, she thought, still half-submerged in the haze. Somewhere out there was a force of nature whose only effect on her was to rouse her gently from sleep. She hoped all the storms she would face could be this harmless. She doubted that, but right now it didn't matter.

Henry's eyelids fluttered a little; perhaps he had heard it too, somewhere deep in his mind. Still asleep, his breath fastened ever so slightly, the skin on his bare shoulder almost paper-white in this low light. She felt a compulsion to reach and touch it, but she refrained.

Let him sleep, her mind muttered softly, as memories of the night before flooded back.

She remembered in an intoxicating, hot rush the reason his shoulder was bare. Why her shoulders were also bare.

Robbie rested her head against the back board, plush and comfortable, staring upward at the ceiling and allowing the memories wash over her, as gentle and sweet as the moonlight through the window.

He'd gotten frustrated unbuttoning his shirt, unable to manipulate the buttons due to the nervous tremors wracking his body. He had half-jokingly suggesting simply ripping it open, and Robbie had laughed - but instead she stood there, gently undoing it for him.

A distant boom and a jolt next to her: Henry woke up, panting, pushing his hair back from his bleary eyes and sitting upright.

"What's that noise?" He sound panicked, but in his still half-asleep state it came across as confusion. His face softened as he saw Robbie sitting next to him, but he didn't quite lose his frantic energy.

"Shh, shh." She snuggled up closer to him, finally letting herself touch him again, warming her cool hands on his hot cheeks and neck. "It's okay. I think there's a storm out there somewhere."

This only seemed to make him more tense: "Lightning?"

"Not that I can see."

He turned his head around, his body still covered by the bed sheet, his attention entirely focused on the window.

Robbie studied the view in front of her with bated breath: his back a near-silhouette in the moonlight, silver flecks shimmering in his hair.

"Robbie," He muttered, after a seeming eternity. "I really wanted tonight to be better for you."