Oblivion (Completed)

Henley

"One..." His eyes flick down to my mouth and he wets his lips.

"Two..." He's not kissing me yet, but he's going to. His lips brush over mine with every word. He's got one hand on the wheel and the other on my upper thigh, sneaking his fingertips up the frayed edges of my tiny shorts. My heart rate skyrockets just from his touch.

"Hold on tight, baby," he says against my mouth as he revs the engine. It's pitch black out, and we're under a blanket of bright stadium lights. He's never taken me out on the track before. I'm buzzing with excitement; high on life, because he makes me feel like I can do anything.

Everything.

He makes me feel like no one ever has.

"You ready?" he whispers against me and I shake my head.I knot my fingers in his thick hair and pull him back to me. I kiss him hard and slow, slamming him back against his door with the promise of what's to come. When he pulls away, my stomach flips. I'll never get enough.

His warm eyes blaze beneath the long bangs swept across his forehead and I can barely breathe. It's not because we're about to strap in and take off at speeds well over 100mph. It't not because we snuck in the stadium and could easily be caught. He flashes me a smile and my world tilts off its axis just because he's all mine.

His warm hands guide me back to my seat and secure me in place.

"You ready now?" He pushes his hair out of his eyes, and when I nod, he shifts in the driver's seat and yanks the gear into drive...

"Three!"

Present Day

Holy shit.

I've been awake for nearly two hours, and unwilling to get out of bed. It's early. The clock on Ryan's nightstand reads 6:30 a.m. If we were home I'd probably get up and think about breakfast. Ryan always makes a huge pot of bold, dark roast coffee before he leaves for work in the morning. I could really go for a giant mug of it right now. But I've got something better than caffeine flowing through my veins right now.

I've got a memory. An honest-to-God memory of Ryan. Of us.

And I don't care how brief or vague it may have been. It was real. I got just a taste of how real we were. And as the days roll forward, I'm learning that we're becoming pretty real now, too.

No, it wasn't a dream; I was wide awake and looking up at him from my pillow as he lowered his lips to mine and delivered a sizzling goodnight kiss. And a memory.

The kiss was hot but shorter than the others we'd shared that day. We got back to his room well after midnight. We watched a movie after our pie. We laughed so hard we woke his siblings, and we played a few rounds of cards at the kitchen table. I was buzzing from a few bottles of beer and quick to shut him down when he offered to sleep in the guest room. The feelings I get from just being around him are thrilling enough to quiet the few doubts.

When he kissed me this time, and let his body hang over mine protectively, there was no where else in the world I wanted to be. I was treated with the only thing I've been asking for since I woke up from my coma. Familiarity.

I guess I'll never know what triggered it, but I'm thankful and hopeful that the more time I spend with him, the easier these memories will come. It's comforting to know the butterflies in my stomach aren't new at all; they've been around for years, warm and wonderful, even when I couldn't feel them dancing.

I haven't told him yet. I just kissed him back and said goodnight.

Needless to say, I barely slept last night. He crawled into the bed and tucked himself under the covers a comfortable distance away from me. He didn't move to kiss me again, but as the hours ticked away, he crept closer to me. He's shirtless and in a pair of thick black sweats, sprawled diagonally across the bed with his hand resting flat on my stomach. My heart is beating out of control just from the simple intimacy of it. The domesticity. It's something I don't remember feeling before now.