One of those can’t-sleep-without-writing-something nights. Have some emergency fluff. There is no plot, it’s very short, but it’s something to use my brain up so it can sleep.
She liked the look of him with firelight dancing across his face, making his skin look warmer and tanner and more golden, and the shadows flickering around his easy smile. She liked the look of herself, or what she could see of herself, half-dressed with a ring on her finger.
She liked that a lot…
"Fine for a honeymoon?" He asked her, an arm looping around her back.
"Well, it’s the first I’ve had, but I think so." She rested her head against his shoulder.
The thunder rolled overhead, threatening summer rain, the clouds hiding the stars, though the moonglow shone through.
"Head in, or stay out and tempt fate?" He turned to grin down at her, and for a brief moment, he looked… not different, really, but impossibly young. Boyish. More than when they first met, and she wondered if that was something that was just true of honeymooners, if she looked the same.
She chose tempting fate. The rain broke, sudden and hard, and he slid the firepit lid back into place, over the damp embers, before grabbing onto her, dashing hand-in-hand back to the little cottage. They stripped off right in the living room, grabbing towels from the linen closet and drying hastily, before curling up together wrapped in afghans on the little sofa.