Lips. Skin. Heartbeats. Sheets.
"And what if...", whispers Stiles, his mouth brushing her own. "And what if for every kiss I give you, you can give me some of your pain in return?"
She smiles and nods.
Lips. Kiss. Break. Breathe. Lips. Kiss. Break. Breathe.
He pecks her and she feels more weightless. She's wrapped up in his arms and it's like she can fly again.
Neck. Kiss. Break. Breathe. Neck. Kiss. Break. Breathe.
They're tangled in his bed, golden in the afternoon sunlight. Her hair catches fire, like a halo around her head and there's whiskey in his eyes, making her drunk and dizzy and light and everything.
Shoulder. Kiss. Break. Breathe. Shoulder. Kiss. Break. Breathe.
His fingers play with the hem of her shirt, so she raises her arms, making it easier for him to undress her. The fabric goes up and up, revealing milk-white skin, framed in black lace and faded lines on her sides.
Chest. Kiss. Break. Breathe. Chest. Kiss. Break. Breathe.
He takes, takes, takes, picking up all the burden piece by piece. And he seems happy to be playing the thief. So she lets him.
Scar. Kiss. Break. Breathe. Scar. Kiss. Break. Breathe.
His lips burn, drinking in all the pain hidden in her marks. She's not flawless, but so is he and that's okay.
Hip. Kiss. Break. Breathe. Hip. Kiss. Break. Breathe.
"I can kiss it and make it better", he says quietly and she doesn't laugh, because she believes him. He can make it better. He already does.
Thigh. Kiss. Break. Breathe. Thigh. Kiss. Break. Breathe.
And there is a warmth between her legs and his hair is wild, every strand sticking in a different direction, like there's a storm on his scalp and it's the prettiest fucking thing she's ever seen.
Lips. Skin. Heartbeats. Sheets.
He hovers over her, her boy, her own shelter, and makes promises. "I can make it go away", he murmurs, rubbing the vow into her body with his mouth.
Kiss. Breathe. Kiss. Breathe.
He makes her feel like she's floating.
Kiss. Break. Moan. Breathe.
So she believes him.
