twelfthsong | — Sʜᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴏᴏᴋs ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ sᴏɴɢ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ

[ John let's out a laugh before entwining his hand with hers, folding the towels over his arm and leading them back down the length of the beach.

They return back to the house the way they left it - sun-filled and warm. ]

Did you want to shower? I can start cooking.

Hmm...

[ Clara taps her chin in thought. ]

I may have salt in some hard-to-reach places. I'm not necessarily starving.

[ He raises an eyebrow, drawing her close. ]

Well, we can't have that now, can we? Do you need help with that? No point in starting dinner if you aren't going to eat any of it.

You know you could help me work up an appetite.

[ When he pulls her close, she presses against him. ]

Somehow I've managed to resist you for a full twelve hours and I truly think I deserve a reward for that.

I'd argue that both of us would deserve a reward.

[ He's already leaning down to pepper her with kisses, tasting the salt of the sea still on her sunkissed skin. His fingers tug at her t-shirt before helping her to pull it over her head, showing her just how much restraint he had been showing too. ]

[ God, he makes her happy, and that terrifies her because in her experience, the happiness never lasts. Just when she gets comfortable and thinks this is hers, something will happen, it always does.

But maybe she can be happy for now, because she'll be sad later.

Clara tugs him into the bathroom and once they're both stripped, they step into the shower. When she loves him, she loves him exactly the way someone would who thinks they'll never have it again. It's passionate and more than a little desperate every time she kisses him. ]

[ John is swept away with the passion of it all. His touches and kisses are more heated too. The way his teeth both tug and nip at her lips and skin leaving proof of his existence lightly in discreet places. The way his hands pull her closer to him as if there were any way that they could be any closer. Every exhale and gasp that leaves his lips are that of his love for her.

Eventually they will get clean, but he wants to make sure she feels thoroughly loved first. ]

[ Clara can't think about anything but John, and she wraps her legs around his hips with her back against the shower wall. With her arms around his neck, she guides him into her and sighs softly, pressing her face against his neck. She loves him so much, and she already can't imagine not having this.

When she comes, her teeth lightly bite at his shoulder, and she whimpers his name. She's shaking a little in his arms as pleasure courses up and down her spine. Her face stays right where it is, breathing him in and listening to every sound he makes. ]

[ His release follows shortly after hers as one of his hands steadies the two of them so that they don't tumble in the tub. After the rush of pleasure ebbs and fades into a wash of warmth across his whole body, he gently puts her down, pressing more kisses to the crook of her neck through his laugh. The term love drunk had never meant much to him in his life, but this entire experience with Clara felt like that was changing that. ]

I'm not convinced that we got all of the sand.

[ Clara just about giggles, her own happiness feeling like the warmth and giddiness of the best amount of drunk. His kisses to her neck tickle, and then his words make her flush again, like she didn't just see stars. ]

Oh yeah? Are you planning to do something about that? A more thorough search?

[ The steam from the shower and his stubble help with masking at least some of the flush to his face as he pulls back to look at her properly. There's still the echo of a smile on his face as he reaches behind her for the shampoo. ]

I might need a minute to catch my breath. But we definitely shook something out.

You're a multi-talented man, John Smith.

[ Clara closes her eyes when he washes her hair, sighing softly, happily. Then, she does the same for him, kissing along his neck as she does. ]

And don't worry, going slow can be the best bit. I hope you don't ever worry about that with me.

Would you call what we're doing slow?

[ It's a genuine question laced with a fond chuckle, as he relishes the feel of her fingers massaging his scalp. ] Then whatever I was doing before must have been glacial.

[ Clara laughs softly and kisses the side of his neck. ]

Hush. I meant the in between. The talking and laughing. I enjoy that just as much. And I like touching for the sake of it. Maybe you're not ready but [ One hand lightly reaches around to let her fingers glide over the soft length of him. ] it feels nice anyway.

[ As soon as Clara's hands touch him again he sighs longingly into the crook of her neck. His hands in return ghost down the length of her body to briefly stroke against her folds. ]

I'm not going to argue with any of that. It's hard to not want to make you feel loved and wanted in whatever way you need it, Clara.

Don't ever let me stop you from whatever you want, especially if it makes you happy.

[ Clara moves her hand back up and begins rinsing his hair, pressing plenty of kisses to his skin. ]

Also, I'd hate for you to think I ever expect anything. Having you in my bed is perfect enough. Everything else is icing on the metaphorical cake.

[ A warm chuckle leaves his lips, his own hands going to rinse the shampoo from her hair once she's done with his. Once it's all clean he reaches for the conditioner, working it thoroughly through her locks. ]

Noted. Does that mean I shouldn't be cooking dinner for you later?

Okay, I was talking about sex, not food. You have to feed me or I'll starve, you swept me away from my hotel with your beach house.

[ She laughs and kisses him again and again, then pushes into his hands much like a cat seeking more touch. ]

Oh, I have to feed you now, do I?

[ He laughs, pressing kisses to every inch of her face. Done with her hair, his arms wrap around the small of her waits to pull her closer, obliging to her whims. ]

What did you live off of before the other day?

Room service. [ She laughs and leans back against him. ]

And these things called restaurants, have you heard of them?

We went to one of those the day we met, didn't we? It's ringing a bell.

[ John realized he was talking a big game though. There were some nights that he worked so late into the evening that cooking was really the last thing on his mind. ]

I don't cook all the time. There are nights where I don't have the energy and can't be bothered. Work takes it out of me.

[ Clara looks at him, features softening. ]

I'll take care of you. [ It's such an earnest reply. ] I'll order food, have it ready for you. I'll rub your shoulders, kiss you until you fall asleep. Does that sound alright?

[ She smiles at him, in a way that could be called adoring, eyes round and bright as she looks at John. ]

[ He forgets himself for a moment, and he knows that he hasn't told her the full truth yet but his heart softens at the same time. The thought of coming home to someone - to Clara specifically - made him yearn for the life that they could build together. ]

That sounds more than alright. [ He smiles back at her with an equal amount of adoration before becoming serious for a brief moment. ] But only on the condition that you'll let me take care of you too.

Deal.

[ Clara grins, then once they're out of the shower, they dress and make their supper together, eating outside to the sound of the waves. They spend so much time wrapped up in their own bubble that she nearly forgets he doesn't have his own schedule, not the way she does. She pays herself, he gets paid by someone else. When it's time to make a decision, Clara contemplates her mum's ashes. ]

You know, she never specifically said she wanted to be scattered any one specific place. I could just make it someplace beautiful back home.

[ Wanting to be with John is overriding pretty much everything else. ]

[ As they go about the rest of their evening John mostly doesn't think about the fact that he'll have to go back to work eventually. It's mostly because he doesn't want to and that thinking about it will mean thinking about how he breaks the news to Clara that he's not actually a professor (at least not always).

He's pulled from his thoughts when Clara speaks, surprised at what she says. ]

Are you sure? Maine was the plan though.

— Sʜᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴏᴏᴋs ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ sᴏɴɢ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ

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