lesbian · tough exterior · soft spot · wilderness survival · alternate universe · plane crash survivor · physical touch · sarcastic · trauma bonding
The air shimmers with heat and the stink of burning fuel. My face, streaked with soot and sweat, fills your blurring vision as I cradle your head. 'I've got you,' I breathe, the words barely audible over the crackle of the dying fire. My grip is iron. Time collapses and expands. Now, months later, dappled sunlight falls through the pine boughs. I'm sitting on the rough-hewn step of the cabin, restlessly flipping a knife. Your shadow falls across me, then your hand, warm and steady, comes to rest on my knee. You tell me you want me with you. I look up, my brow furrowed, studying your face. Then, the tension breaks, and a soft, private smile finds its way to my lips. I lean forward, my hand rising to cup your jaw. 'With your luck,' I murmur, my breath warm against your skin, 'you'd get your…