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he's not drunk either and the thrill is still equally there, perhaps even more so now that he's not under the influence of alcohol. with nothing numbing his system, he's able to feel the connection. the draw that pulls him closer and closer until their bodies are pressing against each other.[break][break]

undeniable.[break][break]

his glass of wine is abandoned on the table, the floor, wherever. his hand reaches up to hold her, then starts moving as he attempts to strip layers off of her. the fireplace should keep her warm enough, and if not that, then he will.

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She follows the pull, hands sliding down from his face to loop her arms around his neck. Relief curls through her, easing her tensions and insecurities in being so prone with him. It's not some cruel trick or an idyllic dream. It almost feels serendipitous - if she were a more daydreamy person. Maybe there's a tiny part of her that still is, saved from childhood and buried down deep.[break][break]

Layers start falling away, and Calla doesn’t make any attempt to stop it. If anything, she encourages it. Static clings to the ends of her hair from the fabric before she haphazardly smooths a hand over it. She’s much more interested in snagging his lips with hers again.[break][break]

Any lingering chill in the air draws goosebumps over her skin, but it doesn’t bother her at all. She feels warmed from the inside out, and her own hands move to fumble with the buttons of his own shirt. "Dumb buttons," she grumbles, words buzzing against his neck where her kisses have drifted. Apparently she's not all that great at multi-tasking if it doesn't involve a day planner.

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layer after layer, they reveal more of themselves than they ever have before, even more than they did that one night weeks ago.[break][break]

"dumb buttons,"[break][break]

he can't help the small laugh that escapes him when she grumbles, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt that can definitely be tricky to undo. he places a kiss against her neck before pulling back for a moment; not far as to drift out of her orbit but enough to help undo the buttons.[break][break]

his shirt falls to the floor, discarded with the rest. with no layers left between them, he presses his body into hers, moving until she's laying. still kissing, he roams down along the curves of her body, against her thighs before drifting closer.

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She huffs when he has to lean back enough to help with the buttons, but she’s impatient enough to not be stubborn and insist she keep trying for herself. Her hands work to push the shirt off of his shoulders so that it falls away, and then her arms are hooking around his neck again to pull him closer.[break][break]

Careful exploration makes her breath snag and flutter in her throat, drawing shivers under her skin. Her own hands slide down to press flat against his back and then draw along his spine.[break][break]

Even now, she smiles against his lips. Her eyes sliver open to look up at him as draws back slightly, heat heavy in her cheeks and hair fanning out around her like a silvery halo. “Hi.” A dumb little laugh follows, because it’s ridiculous to greet him now, but she does do all the same.

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his own dumb little laugh meets hers, drawn so easily from him. so effortlessly. it feels natural and not ridiculous at all because that's just their dynamic, he supposes. he can truly be himself when he's with her. he hopes she feels the same.[break][break]

"hi," he replies, breathless, and closes the distance between them once again.[break][break]

tonight, nothing else matters but them.

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Comfort comes easily with him, she’s realizing. Calla can’t recall the last time she ever felt the sensation so easily, or found herself so willing to laugh. All those silly parts of herself are drawn out into the light, even in serious moments like this one. Something about Uriah makes that effortless.[break][break]

So when he laughs, so does she. And when the space diminishes, pulling away is the furthest thing from her mind.[break][break]

It’s a sort of creature comfort that she doesn’t usually allow herself. It sneaks up on her, and before she knows it, she’s found herself tucked against his side in the hazy aftermath–a warm quilt from the back of the couch pulled down over them.[break][break]

She’s never considered herself a cuddly person, but it’s nice. Her face turns inward to press a kiss against the slope of his shoulder, but she doesn’t say anything just yet. Despite the ease, still halfway convinced that if she’s the first to speak, she’ll inevitably find some way to mess up.

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uriah's a cuddly person. his love language, unsurprisingly, is physical touch if only because he had been deprived of it when he was a kid. his mother showed affection through embraces and kisses whenever she could, and perhaps it's from the absence and rare instances of it has made him cherish it so much.[break][break]

so when he finds himself cuddled up underneath a warm quilt next to someone he has fallen head over heels for, he can think of nowhere else he would rather be. no one else he would rather be next to.[break][break]

he peppers her nose with a kiss, smiling as the warm glow of the fireplace paints over them.[break][break]

"hi."

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It’s actually…pretty cute how receptive he is to her attempt to snuggle closer. She’s used to fleeting encounters. Short term occurrences that are more formal than truly intimate. But this is so vastly different. And what feels wilder is how comfortable she feels with that. For once, different is okay. So long as it’s him.[break][break]

Underneath the cover of the blanket, her arms drape around him lazily. Languid in her attempt to stay close. When he kisses her nose, feather-light, she grins. “Hey.”[break][break]

In spite of her shyness, she doesn’t really remember the last time she felt this sort of happiness. She doesn’t know how to say that, it’s still not easy. But she hopes it’s obvious in the dopey softness of her expression. In the unhindered lightness of her laugh as they continue to greet one another.[break][break]

“You sure you didn’t plan this?” no more than a tease as she tucks her head under his chin, leaving butterfly kisses against his neck.

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"mmm, what if i did?"[break][break]

but, no, he did not plan this. he does not wield the power to summon snowstorms. not even his pokemon with their combined HAIL could conjure up what is currently bellowing outside.[break][break]

he hums contently as she leaves butterfly kisses on his neck.[break][break]

"might plan our next date around another snowstorm as well."

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She hums, smile dancing at the corners of her mouth as she narrows her eyes at him playfully. “Then I would say that it was awfully crafty of you.”[break][break]

Not that she’s complaining, not at all. Leaning back slightly, her hand raises to sift through his hair.[break][break]

The light cast from the fireplace seems to make the shade of red glow brighter.[break][break]

“Mm, I don’t think you need to. I’m not going anywhere.” Complications or not.

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her affirmation is enough to make his heart flutter, now even warmer than the fire that burns behind them.[break][break]

"i'm not going anywhere either."[break][break]

he says as well, smiling.[break][break]

"we'll make it work."