A Word of Praise

He felt her stiffen at his words. Maybe it was too soon. Her arms were still around his neck, and his hands were clamping her waist, afraid to let go. But her stare was wide-eyed, and the tears dried in her face. He didn't regret it, though. Even if she was not ready for it, he was. Wasn't she the one to tell him to do what he wanted?

"Fuck, say something." He might be certain of his feelings, but it didn't mean his heart wasn't pounding against his chest waiting for her reaction.

"Are you sure?" Right, not what he expected. Not at all.

"Yes, I'm sure.” His tone was a bit harsher than he intended, but then she smiled. Gone was the time his stern voice annoyed her, it seemed that she'd grown accustomed to it. Maybe even liked it if he dared to hope.

"Can you help me with the bandages?" She placed her poorly dressed hands in front of him. He smiled, knowing what it meant. Kiara didn't ask for help, she made that clear more than once. But now she did, which meant she trusted him enough to lower her guard.

"Yes."

"I'd invite you to help me shower too, but I don't think that would end well."

"Fucking hell, Kiara!" He was lost in her a second after that, kissing her with more passion than he deemed possible. She was there, holding him as best she could without her hands, pressing her body against him. And she was almost naked, for fucks sake. She didn't change from that barely existing piece of clothing she called a costume, so he was painfully aware of her sinful body.

He wanted nothing more than to lose himself inside her, to cherish that woman that turned his world upside down. She cried for him, and it only made him want to kiss her tears away. The thought made him deepen the kiss, grabbing her ass in his hands. Her moan against his lips sent him into a frenzy, but before he could suspend her and fuck her against the counter, she pushed away.

"Chris," her breathy voice called him. "What?"

"My hands are killing me."

"Shit, sorry." He let her go but missed her warmth the second he did. How did he survive a whole week without her?

"It's ok, I just need a painkiller and we can get back to it." Her eyes were clouded by lust, and it was the most alluring thing he had ever seen. But then he noticed how tired she seemed. It was past three in the morning, she had sustained a painful injury, and had a straining emotional conversation. They should both get some sleep.

"No, you need to take it easy today. Come, let me help you."

***

Chris woke up at the usual hour, but a lot happier than he was used to. By his side, Kiara was spread on the bed like she was alone. It reminded him of another time he saw her like that, how he watched her laying on top of him and caught another glimpse of her tattoo. She was just as sexy now, and he felt like worshiping her body.

Their first time together was phenomenal, but he wanted more now. He wanted all of her. He noticed how her hands were still secured inside the cloth he had tied and remembered how stubborn she had been to try to do it herself. He wanted to care for her too, make her feel loved.

That was new to him. He played with her hair while thinking about what it meant. Surprisingly, he wasn't as afraid as he thought he'd be, considering his other experiences. It was actually funny to think about them, his other attempts at love. Looking at Kiara's peaceful face, he couldn't even understand how he could ever claim to have loved anyone else.

"Did you lose something in my face?" She asked in a mocking tone, awakened by his piercing stare.

"Do you always wake up with a smart mouth?" He cocked a brow "Yes, get used to it," she answered, probably failing to realize what it meant. His smile widened.

"I intend to."

"Chris, about yesterday..." Her tone was uncertain, and her eyes showed a concern that didn't seem related to her previous words.

"What is it?" He took a strand of her jet-black hair and placed it behind her ear.

"I'm sorry about what I said during the holidays. I had no idea." Oh, that. His smile didn't falter.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. As I said yesterday, I told you because I wanted you to know. To know what you are responsible for."

A small frown made its way to her face, and Chris caressed it with his thumb. She was so incredibly beautiful.

"What did I do, besides ruining my image in front of your parents?"

"See, I'd love to tell you the whole story, but I have to take Batman out for a walk. If I knew you'd be waking up in my bed, I'd have hired someone else to do it, but I thought it'd take longer to win you back," he smirked "Are you saying I'm easy, Christopher?" She arched a brow. He almost didn't hate the sound of his full name coming out of her mouth.

"I am," he laughed, expecting her to punch him or something. But she smiled knowingly and touched her chin as if deep in thought.

"You are right. I am easy. I just needed you to make up your damn mind."

"This does not seem like a conversation I can win." He kissed her forehead and smiled. "Do you run?"

Chris didn't need to go for his morning run with Batman that day, but he wanted to. He wanted to take her with them and see how it felt. If he was being honest, the idea of sharing with her one of the favorite parts of his routine was fascinating. If she fit in there, then maybe... maybe she could fit into his life.

She nodded, and he couldn't help but smile. Luckily, her wardrobe was mostly comprised of sports clothes, and in the bag she brought with them from the show, there was enough for a run in the park.