A/N - This was something that brewed while I was working on other chapters for fanfics ( I think I was working on Stranded or Fading Away and it didn't fit!)  THIS is entirely fluffy.... no rated M content in this chapter specifically!  Again, picture your bias! Enjoy!

…It took one small brush of his fingertips at your smaller hand…

…A longer than comfortable gaze, eyes meeting eyes, soul recognizing soul…

…An unconscious movement, shrinking your personal space…

                                      __________

“But, you’re beautiful,” you stammered.

He blinked at the compliment, taken aback.

“Handsome! Well, more… I guess.” Curse your tongue and your brain at its malfunction.

“So are you. Beautiful,” he clarified.

Your eyes went wide. Voices in your head argued a million self-deflating reasons as to why his description of you had to be a lie.

Lost in thought, you were shocked when he grabbed your wrist and gave it a tug.

“Does it matter?” he asked. He paused for a moment while waiting for your thoughts to catch up with his.

“Huh?” you asked, confused.

“What everyone else thinks, or what you think for that matter?”

You flinched slightly, but let him continue.

“If I say you’re beautiful, I mean it and in my opinion, it’s the truth. I can read everything. Your eyes and expressions don’t conceal a thing.”

He continued to pull at your wrist, forcing you to take a step towards him. He did likewise until only mere inches separated you.

"You..." you started.

"…like you," he finished.

You still stumbled over the declaration, as you did at the beginning of your conversation. You thought him to be perfect. You couldn't possibly fit with him, no matter how much you yearned to.

“And since you feel the same…” he whispered.

You should have protested the cockiness that was present in that last sentence. You had never said that to him. You never expressed how attractive he was, in your opinion. You couldn't find the words to censure him for his assumption. His proximity was more distracting than the words coming from his lips.

His lips…

Full, pursed slightly…so close…

Shouldn’t I close my eyes? Lean in? Why can’t I move?

Instead, your eyes were wide, staring at his facial features. His eyes were still open as well, but he was focused on your lips. His intention was clear and you weren’t moving away, instead you were frozen.

You breathed in a mixture of him with the surrounding air. His scent began to ade your senses.

His gaze snapped back to your eyes. He realized that you were not going to take the final initiative. You had no previous experience with this, and just looking at him was a detriment to your self-confidence. He made a sound, deep in his chest that sounded a kin to a growl as he captured your lips.

His hand finally let go of your wrist and joined his other as his arms wrapped around your waist. His hands overlaid each other at the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

You inhaled sharply through your nose at the contact. He wasn’t about to release your lips, even in favor of breathing.

The sensation was so foreign to you. Stories and movies couldn’t have prepared you for what it would actually feel like to be kissed like this. Finally, your eyes closed of their own will. Your body relaxed. You had to rely heavily on the support he provided.

You felt, as much as heard, the almost purring vibration he made only a second before you felt his lips open against yours. He tugged on your bottom lip, surprising you. You did the only thing you could assume that he wanted. You parted your lips against his.

A shock rippled quickly through you when he deepened the kiss. When you felt his tongue touch yours, something in the pit of your stomach clenched in response. You wanted. You anticipated something that you knew you hadn’t yet comprehended. Not with him. Not believing that he could want you in the same way, although his kissing was proving you wrong.

You tipped your head back slightly, not sure where you were going to find any strength to stand on your own once you pulled apart from each other.

Your mind and body began a fierce argument. What your body wanted to do and what you thought you should do were two different things. Your hands itched to touch him, but you weren’t sure if you should. With a shaking hand, you touched his arm. You let your fingertips trace the slight definition of his bicep upwards until your hand found the curve of his shoulder to grip.

At your touch, one of his hands traveled along up along your spine until settling between your shoulder blades. He added just enough pressure with his hand until you felt your cheeks flush from the chest-to-chest contact.

You knew then that he had imprinted himself as the first and last addiction you would ever need. You wouldn’t forget this moment. You would never forget him.

His lips left yours, but you could still feel his proximity. He made no move to separate himself from you.

You took an unsteady breath in and slowly opened your eyes. Again, your lower abdomen clenched at the sight in front of you.

He wore a smirk on his lips, but not in such a way that would come across entirely conceited. However, there was a slight hint of ‘I told you so’ dancing in his eyes.

You dropped your hand from his shoulder and gazed at him with a perplexed look. Your eyebrows were pulled together just enough to convey confusion.

He let you go slowly, making sure you were firmly standing on your own two feet. Only then did he run his fingers through his own hair. He looked down at the ground as a slight pink colored his cheeks.

Was he…embarrassed?

“It really doesn’t matter, you know? Who you are, who I am? It doesn’t matter what either of us looks like or does for a living. It doesn’t matter what anyone else may think of us. I like you,” he said, with an emphasis on ‘you’.

Your eyes couldn’t focus on any one feature of his face. You still had a hard time grasping that someone so perfect could like you.

“I … like you too,” you whispered.

He glanced back up at you. His hand reached out for yours, fingers weaving together.

You could accept this, in the least. If it meant forever, if it only meant moments you could still accept this.

He turned away from you, tugging your hand. Taking two longer strides to reach his side you continued forward together, hand in hand.