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[recoined]

	you've reached kimberly — you really should have texted me. who leaves a voicemail anymore? audio | text | video | snapchat | action
kimberly hart.

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[killertrack]

[ For a time, he doesn't want to move, ever again. For a time, everything feels right and in place and he belongs and there are no police sirens, no gunshots still ringing in his ears, no criminals out for vengeance, nobody he's risking the life of. It's just a guy and a girl, kissing at the edge of a new world he's yet got to explore. He smiles against her lips, pulls her up against his body, keeps her right close and amused as his blood sings in his veins, alive, alive, alive.

When they finally do pull away for more than half a second, he breathes out through his mouth, long and slow, before pressing a chuckle against her forehead. ]

Should I be driving you back to civilization?

[ He might not want to right now, but he's not naive, despite his name. He knows this is a moment that isn't destined to last forever. Just like a good drift, everything has to come to an end. ]

[recoined]

( should he? maybe. there's something about the peace and quiet, the warmth of his body so snug against her own, the seemingly endless time stretched out before them, that tells kimberly this peaceful moment could escalate very quickly. it wouldn't take much, she knows that. that long exhale speaks volumes.

but she doesn't want to rush things with him. she wants to enjoy this ride for what it's worth, take each turn one by one. so, even though all her senses tell her to continue, kimberly pumps the metaphorical brakes for once, and lets her hand drop from his neck down to the fabric of his shirt, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles across his chest. )

Maybe. ( but, so as not to make him think this is the one and only opportunity for such an encounter... ) We can do this again, though, right?

[killertrack]

[ Relief loosens his muscles when Kimberly asks for them to do this again; he hadn't realised how much he wanted her to say something exactly like that. If his nod is eager, he doesn't really blame himself - he's just glad to have met someone he clicks with so quickly, and he doesn't plan on not getting to see her again. ]

Yeah. Yeah, please.

[ There's a part of him that really, really wants to stay here. Pick her up, sit her against the hood of the Challenger, get on his knees for her. He wants to stay right here and show her that he's not just his name, but a lot more too. But he's also a gentleman and he was raised right and he'll do better by her than just attempt to just her the second he thinks there's an opening. ]

I could. Cook you dinner?

[recoined]

( that little please, emphasized over a rush of hot air, tugs at something in her chest, flicks her eyes back up to his to catch the intensity of his gaze as he peers down at her. she knows that look. that wanting, desire that you're pushing down, a struggle to balance what's the right thing and what you want.

if baby were anybody else, she'd tip the board in favor of what felt good. immediate gratification wasn't something she was particular used to ignoring. but she's trying to make this work without rushing things. to enjoy the sweetness as it builds towards something else.

they're not there yet, even if she wants to be. )

I'd really like that.

[killertrack]

Okay.

[ He's no chef, but he's used to cooking for Joe. And he's pretty sure he can make something romantic out of that tiny apartment he was given; just buy some flowers and candles and nice wine. He can make this work.

He keeps her hand in his as he leads her back to the car, a cheeky smile on his lips as he opens the passenger door for her. ]

Or do you want to try driving now?