Sudden Storms | By : dragovianknight Category: +A through F > Dragon Quest/ Dragon Warrior Views: 5335 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Quest/Dragon Warrior, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Thunder boomed outside the small inn, startling Jessica awake. For a moment she lay in bed, heart pounding; then the brilliant blue-white of more lighting slipped through the cracks in the shutters, accompanied rather than followed by more thunder, and she reluctantly accepted that she wasn't going to get any more sleep until the storm passed.
Her hair was still damp, she discovered when she brushed it, but at least her clothing was dry, and in a few minutes she was down in the common room. Angelo and Eight were already there, chairs pulled close to the hearth, both so relaxed and animated as they conversed that she hesitated to interrupt them. Then Angelo looked up with a quick smile that utterly lacked his usual smugness, rose and pulled a third chair over with the grace that served him so well in battle.
His jacket was still hanging near the fire, and his shirt shifted and drew snug across his shoulders as he moved. His hair was loose, spread down his back, still a few shades darker than normal, still surprisingly bright against the dark fabric.
"Join us," he said, and Jessica realized she'd been staring.
"So I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep," she said, hoping to cover her embarrassment.
"I'm surprised even Yangus is sleeping through this. I thought we'd all be down here before long," Eight said. Thunder cracked again, and he frowned. "I hope Medea's all right."
"I'm sure if she weren't, Trode would be in here making certain we knew it." Angelo's hand closed around hers, and he guided her into the chair he'd vacated, held on a few moments longer than she should have allowed.
"You're probably right. Still, I should probably..."
"You'd drown before you got ten steps. Here." Angelo leaned forward, stretching to reach the kettle resting near the fire to keep warm, his shirt pulling smooth and taut against his back and arm. "We've been forbidden from the kitchen," he explained, and the grin he shared with Eight reminded Jessica of Bangerz and Mash when they were getting into mischief, "but the innkeeper couldn't begrudge us tea on a night like this. "
He handed a cup to Jessica, and she noticed a fourth cup, in addition to the cups he and Eight were using. They really had been expecting everyone, then, and she hadn't been interrupting.
The tea wasn't terribly good, but the company was, moods light in spite of the storm which had driven them here for shelter. They seldom had the energy or inclination to talk like this, either exhausted from a day on the road, or in such a dangerous area that conversations and tempers were short and sharp, or taking advantage of a new town for a few hours away from one another.
Jessica didn't know if it was the nearly festive atmosphere, or the fact that it was only the three of them, seemingly shut off from the rest of the world. She just knew she didn't protest - didn't want to protest - when the occasional 'accidental' brush of Angelo's hand against hers grew bolder, when he caught her watching the play of his muscles beneath his shirt, when he finally slid his hand up her arm and cupped the back of her neck, drawing her lips against his.
By the time they parted, she was convinced he was as skilled in this as he was in everything else he did.
He was pulling her close again when Eight made a sound like a strangled cough. Jessica drew back - she wasn't as embarrassed as she knew she should be, though she feared she wouldn't be able to face either of them in the morning - and looked over to find Eight trying not to watch them, his eyes darting toward them and away.
"I think, um, I should let you two go to bed. I mean, I should go to bed and leave you alone," he said, flushing crimson.
"I think bed sounds like an excellent idea." Angelo shot her a sideways look. "Don't you, Jess?"
"Separate beds," she said, because she hadn't completely lost her mind.
"Of course." Angelo rose, pulled her to her feet and nuzzled against her throat. "I don't know what else you could have thought I meant."
She slid her hand up his back, tangled her fingers in his now-dry hair, and tugged gently. "Separate. Beds."
He laughed, stepped back, and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her lips. "We will have to do this again sometime."
"I'm sure another opportunity will present itself." Reluctantly, she made herself sidestep around him. Eight was still watching, his face bright red and a hint of something akin to panic in his gaze. Jessica suspected she wouldn't be the only one who had trouble meeting people's eyes in the morning.
A fresh rumble of thunder reminded her that they may well be stuck right here for the next few days. She glanced over her shoulder; Angelo was watching her, a lazy smile on his lips, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling back.
At least there was little chance of getting bored while they waited for the storm to pass.
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