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About Mutual Affection and Sarah Palin

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She opened her eyes without hesitation. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a little voice told her that she didn’t have to hurry, because it was Saturday. A second later it was shut up by the overwhelming realisation that she did not lie in her own bed. Her heart had just started to pound rapidly when she suddenly remembered where she was. Carefully she turned her head, and there he was, still tangled up in the tranquillity of unconsciousness. The sight of him made her smile, and she decided to make herself comfortable again, the warm blanket that carried a hint of his scent swallowing her figure. Staring at the ceiling, she allowed her thoughts to wander, outside of the room and his house, flouting the rules of time.

 

After the furore over the outcome of her first date with him, it had been obvious to her that they had to keep it casual, and she had been all too sure that their point of view on their relationship was mutual. But then he had violated the rules she had put in place so thoughtfully while simultaneously proofing her assumption wrong, and it had caught her by surprise. There had been no time to sort out her emotions when she had understood the far-reaching consequences of his words, just a tangible opportunity to help her client. And so she had decided to rely on her intuition and do her job, the one thing she was unarguably excellent at.

She knew damn well why she had been feeling guilty whenever he had crossed her mind throughout the case. If it hadn’t been for him inviting her over, if he hadn’t shown her the results of his research, she, and the whole team working on the case, would have struggled a lot more to win the trial. All along she had been aware that she had taken advantage of his feelings for her, to put it into his own words. She had shredded him into pieces, with a devilish little smile on her red lips and piercing eyes. Like he meant nothing more to her than every other member of the opposing counsel. In retrospect the outcome of the case was a disaster, at least the moral aspect.

 

She didn’t realise that she had drifted off to sleep until his shifting body dragged her out of her hazy state of mind. His arm curled around her waist, and without opening his eyes, seemingly not yet ready to accept the day has started, he added a little pressure to draw her closer. When she didn’t move, his eyes fluttered open, looking for the reason why she didn’t give in. It didn’t take long for him to notice there was none, that it was just her challenging him. She looked at him intently, and he made a vain attempt at reading her expression.

„So, Sarah Palin...?“ Her voice that broke the silence was a little bit raspy, reminders of the peaceful sleep she had been in just some minutes before.

„What?“, he mumbled, clueless what she wished to hear, his mind still too clouded to waste a serious thought on her words.

„Would you prefer to wake up next to her?“, she asked mockingly, a grin on her uncoloured lips.

„What?“, he repeated, his voice louder this time, the incredulity in it audible. She chuckled, propped her head up and eyed him. The amusement enlightened her whole face, and the little rays of morning sunlight that made their way through the curtains into his bedroom, made her sky blue eyes sparkle. Her light blonde hair appeared to be golden in the semi-darkness, framing her delicate face perfectly. He couldn’t avoid musing that she was truly beautiful, despite the fact that she had woken up only a little time ago.

“You tend to go into raptures about her, so I thought, maybe…”. She didn’t finish her sentence, instead bit her bottom lip, followed by her tongue darting out to wet it. All the while her gaze never left his, and she noticed how he followed her little movements. She shrugged, and it snapped him out of his absent-mindedness. He blinked, and a lopsided smirk formed beneath his moustache.

“I never go into raptures”, he stated, and she huffed exaggeratedly before she flopped back down onto the pillow. A second later his lips were on hers, and the right side of her body was trapped beneath his. For a moment she granted herself to relish in his touch, but then she pushed him back slightly, her hand on his chest.

“So that’s how you handle unpleasant questions?”, she breathed out.

“Not exactly. That’s just how I shut you up”, he answered and gave her a peck on the lips. She frowned and gave him a disapproving look, but he didn’t mind and moved to kiss the wrinkles on her forehead her expression had caused. He tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear before he lowered his head and kissed her again, his hand on her cheek. This time she gave in, her features softening at his touch, returning the affection she had been too afraid to verbalise some days ago.

 

They parted when the need for air became too strong, both panting heavily. Her body was still partly buried beneath his, although he made sure not to crash her. Her eyes were closed, and he watched her while her ragged breathing went back to normal again. When he cupped her face, his thumb caressing her cheekbone, she finally met his gaze.

“You wanna talk about it?”, she murmured, her tone deep and honeyed.

“What?”, he asked what she felt was the hundredth time that morning.

“Your feelings for me?”, she prompted, sounding both teasing and slightly annoyed. He sighed, and she knew he was pondering whether the time to say more than just a few words had come or not.

“No”, he answered eventually, causing her to raise her eyebrows in the manner that was so typical of her. A smirk appeared on his face in response to her reaction, and he was aware that his delight made her even more unwilling to let the topic rest. When she opened her mouth to press him further, he kissed her tongue first instead, muffling the surprised gasp that escaped her instead of words, and she had to admit that he sure knew how to shut her up.