A Ko-fi reward for Anonymous who requested McSombra having a moment while slow dancing. Thanks for the hot cocoa, doll! I hope you enjoy this intimate little dance.
McSombra. 500 word drabble. Fluff.
It strikes her like a match along a matchbox. The rough, scratchy environment ignites a flame that flares out before settling into its natural shape. It burns her blood as she contemplates.
Love is such a lost concept. There are tools, and far away allies along with unsure enemies. There are men who warm her bed. There are those she drinks with and leaves in the morning.
He is entirely out of her grasp, yet nestled deep in the cavity of her chest. What she once feared to be a tumor now behaves like a valve of her heart.
“Darlin’,” his sleepy murmur rises. “What’s wrong?”
She turns, almost smirking were it not for the 3 AM air. At the window, she stands with her arms crossed. Her gaze falls back to his sleepy figure in her bed.
“Nothing, vaquero.” She says in a hushed voice, but it sounds soft and trembling tonight. “Go back to sleep.”
As if she never spoke, McCree sits out of the covers. His bare feet pad across the floor, before finding her. Standing before her, she looks up. His disheveled hair falls into his eyes like a sin. The still waking up honey irises look to her with worry and wonder.
“Olivia,” he murmurs, which she immediately shushes.
She unfolds her arms to take his hands. Quietly, he starts shifting her grasp. In a slow second, he wraps his metallic arm around her lower back. His flesh hand interlocks with hers, and raises slightly as he brings her against him. Chest to chest, as if they’re making love once more.
“Jesse?”
“I want to dance with you,” he says, almost desperately pleading. “I want to hold you again.”
She would roll her eyes and tease him for such a romantic want, but she doesn’t want anything else but this. Quietly falling against him, her cheekbone finds his shoulder. His arm holds her waist gently.
They sway their feet in a weak form of slow dancing. It holds no meaning but to move slow and together. His breath touches into her hair as her own falls across his collarbone. Her one hand clutches his other shoulder, holding on for dear life.
It’s like coming home to rest. Upon his chest, his strong heartbeat pulses into her cheek. A sign of struggle and want and need. As strong as his arms are, she can feel the trembling weakness for her.
He must hear her pathetic little heart. The trouble on her face isn’t hiding tonight, when usually no one knows what emotions run through her. There is solitude, but there is isolation. She felt the second one the most when he left, only after he starting coming back to her.
Her tongue moves, as if baring great chains. The flame still burning within her blood holds her captive until her voice breaks through.
“Te amo, Jesse.”
It cracks her lungs and freezes her mind, but the words free her chest. Their dance doesn’t stop, but McCree leans down to press a kiss into her hair. His hands tighten for just a moment.
“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” he chuckles, before touching another kiss along her head.
“I love you, too.”
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