One Shots #VariaSquad

Of Old Memories and New Beginnings

There's silence on the other end of the line, which she assumes is probably because he's making a hasty phone call to tell the clown to get away from her door as fast as possible – the thought makes her grin a little.

But, when she pulls the door open, she's proved wrong. 'Surprise,' he says, and she hears it twice: once through the phone and once directly from the man stood in front of her.

For a moment, she freezes, her brain unable to comprehend the image her eyes are sending.

And then she's moving to close the distance, unsure whether her free hand is rising to pull him towards her or to slap him right up until the second she finds herself in his arms, both of her own wrapped around his neck as she buries her head in his shoulder.

His arms wrap around her tightly, pulling her into him and letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

They stand like that for a minute, both of them letting themselves enjoy the feeling, allowing themselves to breathe.

And then she pulls back, just enough to look at him, and unwraps her arms from around him. He whines playfully and she lifts a hand again, only this time, she actually does slap him – albeit gently. 'What was that for?' he asks, lifting one hand to rub at his cheek, tightening his other arm around her as he does.

'Like that even hurt you,' she scoffs.

'Not physically, but it did. In here,' he counters, gesturing towards his heart.

'You are such a drama queen!' she exclaims, hitting him on the chest.

'Ow yaar! That one actually did hurt,' he complains, moving his hand to rub at his chest.

'Aww, bicharo. Want me to kiss it better?' she teases with a laugh. But, when he doesn't answer, the mood changes from light and playful to something else entirely. Her gaze moves down to where her hand still rests on his chest – beside his, which has gone still – and then slowly back up to meet his eyes. She's not really surprised at what she finds when her eyes lock with his; in the decade they've known each other, they've both grown used to moments like this. Moments where they stop hiding behind the witty banter, drop the masks and let the truth show, no holds barred.

Even if it wasn't something she was fully expecting to happen the minute she saw him stood at her door, by now she is so well-versed at reading him that she can hear his thoughts in the silence, can understand the words he won't give voice to from the way his hand slides a little lower on her back and his head dips towards hers, can tell his desires from the way his breath hitches ever so slightly.

And if all of that wasn't enough to send heat flooding through her body, the way he's looking at her sure as hell is. His eyes are dark, trained on her with such intensity that she thinks it's a wonder he doesn't set her on fire, his gaze heavy in a way that is all too familiar.

Despite how well she knows the feeling of being pinned by that gaze, the effect on her is still the same as it was the first time; all of a sudden, her mouth is dry as a desert and her heart is pounding like she's just run a marathon. Somewhere, in some far corner of her brain that still holds on to a shred of logic, she knows that she should probably turn away, break the spell the moment has cast over them. But logic has no place here, between them. So she doesn't.

Instead, without breaking eye contact, she moves his hand out of the way and lifts her head, pushing herself up until she can brush her lips over the spot. Given the fact that she'd slapped him over his heart, she can feel the way his heartbeat picks up with the action, hear his pulse thundering.

She also hears it even out as she finally drops her gaze, feel it slow as she rests her forehead against his chest, her eyes closing as she does.

He lowers the hand that had still been hovering by his chest, lets it rest on her shoulder a moment before slowly letting it travel across her back and up the nape of her neck to tangle in her hair as he lets his head drop until his nose is pressed into her hair, inhaling the familiar smell of her shampoo.