He was ancient, and it was apparent in the way he cracked his bones, and how his silvered hair mussed. It was in the dulled scars on his body, the blank look in his eyes from all that he's seen. And when he's with her, all the years he's spent suffering smother his very breath.
It shouldn't be that way. But she's so hellbent on being optimistic. After all that he's done, she still believes in his salvation. How can she? That hope was beat out of him with each loss he's faced. But a part of him hopes that she could be right. That maybe, just maybe...
Of course, now isn't the time for dwelling on that. Not when she's straddling his hips as he pretends to read. Her lips dancing across the veins on his throat, her hands resting against his broad chest. He shouldn't be dwindling with his past absentmindedly. Not when she's trying to gain his attention, and especially not when she knows how regretful he is of his past.
He feels the book slipping, his hands find their place at her waist. He doesn't deserve this. Her lips meet his passionately, and he gives in. Her hips move in waves and he's trying all that he can to stay focused on her purrs of delight.
His mouth opens to interject, but his words are lost in her mouth and she pulls him closer. Her fingers find their way into his hair, tugging his head back just enough to let her mouth work on his neck. It's so easy for him to let go. To just be able to surrender himself to her ministrations.
His lungs are almost free from the grief he's accumulated. Her embrace makes feel at peace. Her demeanor is so desperate that he can't help but tease. Soon she's clawing at his flesh, whining incoherently in impatient strings of 'hurry up' and 'god, please'. He pulls back, almost reluctantly, pleased that he has brought her to this point. Her face is contorted in ecstasy, and he loses himself in her. Gives in completely to her.
They're pressed against each other as they move in sync, her cheek to his chest. He gingerly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She'll tease him about that later. But for now the room is deafened by her pleads.
Soon they're panting, tangled in each other. He watches their chests move in unison. She looks up at him, her eyes content as she nestles into his side. Those eyes filled with the same wonder he was stripped of so long ago.
His bones ache with the stress they've collected, and he knows her lithe body must be worn, but neither of them break contact. They should be attending to other matters, but in that moment, nothing was more important to him than her.
She stifles a yawn and lazily stretches her arm over him. Oh well, she had her chance to leave. He shifts onto his side, much to her voiced displeasure, and tucks her closer to press a kiss to her head. He's just an old man, he remembers, with responsibilities. But there's no better way to waste his day, than stay close to his love.