heaven. [k de vries]

synopsis / prompt: thumb. [the sender slowly glides their thumb across the receiver's cheekbone in a tender gesture]

Wrapped in blankets of their bed, K wonders how they got here.

The actual logistics of it are simple. You waltzed into K's penthouse after work, somehow still full of energy despite the draining day. K was making pasta but leaned into your touch as you wrapped your arms around their waist.

The rest of the night was spent together, making the slightest of touches whenever either of you had a chance. When eating dinner, K's thigh brushed against yours. While playing a movie, K's fingers danced over yours. When kissing… when kissing, K wanted all of you.

The two of you stumbled into bed, K's arms never letting go of you and you never letting go of them. All you did was makeout, but god, did K feel like they were floating on cloud nine.

Hands tangled in their hair. The whispers of their name on your tongue. The soft sounds of contentment from both of you and the smiles against each other's lips.

It's been so long since K has felt like this. It's something they think about every day. Every night, occasionally, when they can't sleep—which is exactly what's happening now.

It's only just past midnight, but K is wide awake. They'd drifted off tangled up with you and now they awake in the same position. Fingers outreached, your head off the pillow and curled towards their body, your legs rubbing against each other's.

Love. Love, love, love.

A simple four-letter word that carries the weight of the world.

"K?"

A slow blink in the dark. Two familiar eyes opening to peer at them. They smile softly, barely even realizing they're doing it.

"You're still awake," you whisper.

Yes. Yes, they are.

Before K can think, they're reaching out, placing the palm of their hand on your cheek. Their thumb strokes your face, savouring how your eyes flutter shut at their touch. Something in their chest explodes, like a burst of colour in a world of black and white.

"I'll sleep soon. I was just thinking."

"You're always thinking."

It's true that they drift off a lot. Even in social settings, K can be found staring out the window, lost in their head about a million things. They don't even need a scenic view for it—they've drifted off staring at the floor plenty of times.

It's only with a select few people that they are grounded. Over the last couple of months, you slowly found your way onto that list.

"I have a lot of thoughts for a century-old being," K replies. That soft smile hasn't left their face. "Right now, a lot of those thoughts involve you. Do you not want that?"

"I want you to go to sleep with me," you mumble. Any other time and that may have caused a flustered expression or a teasing remark back, but apparently, you're too tired for any of it. Not that K minds. It's endearing.

"I'm in bed with you," K points out.

"Not good enough."

You curl into them like a cat and K laughs, a rumble that vibrates through their chest and down to their toes. It's a joyous feeling, being in love. They wonder why they ever ran from it at all.

"You're so demanding, aren't you?" they tease.

"That's what you get for dating a hunter."

If it was up to them, they wouldn't have fallen for a hunter. A hunter of all things, someone of an organization they despise. But you can't help who you fall for, and this is a prime example.

With your head underneath their chin, K snuggles into you, breathing in your scent. It's flooded their senses one too many times. Every time they catch a whiff of it, most often throughout their penthouse after you leave or in their bed, they can't help but fall for you all over again.

"I love you," K breathes. Though the words are impulsive, they mean every syllable. They mean it every time they say it. They feel it every time they see you.

Love. Love love love.

"Love you too."