Foreman blinked his eyes open, catching Amber's expression for the first time since he'd let the kiss envelop his senses, when she yanked away from his grip. He'd already let go before she froze against him, and his heart skipped a beat at her flinch. Jesus, what had he done now? She almost seemed frightened. When he'd done so much more this morning, playfully tumbling her into bed and grabbing her arms to hug her against him, she hadn't reacted like this. Or maybe she had, and he'd missed it? Foreman wanted to rock back on his heels, give her more space, but she didn't let him.
Her palms on his cheeks were familiar, slightly cooler than his skin, and Foreman met her eyes, given little choice to do anything else. Hers were grey-blue and stormy, direct, but still a little bit wary, even scared. Foreman let himself shiver and relax, eyelids closing slightly, though not enough to break eye contact with her. His body seemed to mould into hers naturally, the fit between them warm and true. Turning his head slightly, Foreman kissed the center of Amber's palm, his beard brushing lightly against her skin. Talking hadn't helped them, yeah, but then, he hadn't tried to talk this much in so many years that he'd nearly forgotten how. "I think... I haven't told anyone so much, this fast..." No one had been around while Marcus was dragging his second chances into the ground. Foreman had been alone, and he'd learned to damn well deal with it on his own, because there'd been no one else. "I don't know how." He wanted an answer for every question, even if it was wrong--at least he didn't look like he couldn't think, couldn't come to a decision. "I don't like that, I don't like that it's hard." He met her eyes again, breathing slower now. God, he'd never been more glad of the privacy of this change room before, but knowing how unlikely it was for anyone to walk in allowed him to simply take his time, and watch her, and stroke his thumbs over her hips. "Hey. I don't know what you're thinking, either."
no subject
Her palms on his cheeks were familiar, slightly cooler than his skin, and Foreman met her eyes, given little choice to do anything else. Hers were grey-blue and stormy, direct, but still a little bit wary, even scared. Foreman let himself shiver and relax, eyelids closing slightly, though not enough to break eye contact with her. His body seemed to mould into hers naturally, the fit between them warm and true. Turning his head slightly, Foreman kissed the center of Amber's palm, his beard brushing lightly against her skin. Talking hadn't helped them, yeah, but then, he hadn't tried to talk this much in so many years that he'd nearly forgotten how. "I think... I haven't told anyone so much, this fast..." No one had been around while Marcus was dragging his second chances into the ground. Foreman had been alone, and he'd learned to damn well deal with it on his own, because there'd been no one else. "I don't know how." He wanted an answer for every question, even if it was wrong--at least he didn't look like he couldn't think, couldn't come to a decision. "I don't like that, I don't like that it's hard." He met her eyes again, breathing slower now. God, he'd never been more glad of the privacy of this change room before, but knowing how unlikely it was for anyone to walk in allowed him to simply take his time, and watch her, and stroke his thumbs over her hips. "Hey. I don't know what you're thinking, either."