Prompt Fills Vol. 4

[troublewillfindme]

realizin-g asked: just gonna drop in here and send u a thing from that headcanon meme-- "urge" (for xcom preferably, but like you do you)

 

He could do it. He knows he could, could brush the hair back off of her face, tilt her chin up, and kiss her. God knows they’ve had enough close encounters, enough near misses. They are already closer than is really appropriate; what would a kiss really change?

He assumes she kisses well. He cites the lipstick and the confidence, a woman who’s unafraid to pursue what she wants. He knows her well enough to know she’d be the hands sort, finding something to occupy clever fingers.

Except, he reminds himself, once you’ve kissed, you’ve crossed the Rubicon. You don’t look at lips without knowing how they feel against your own, don’t see hands without the memory of them cupping your cheek. There’s all sorts of knowledge that a kiss bestows, all sorts of possibilities it might promise.

He is already too attached. A kiss would only exacerbate the problem. A kiss would be a step in the wrong direction, a mistake, a miscalculation. He knows this.

But then, he also knows her, hiding a smile behind her hand during a briefing; dressed to the nines with the kind of poise she professes not to have; pajama-clad in his kitchen, hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate.

He knows her, knows she’d kiss him back, knows they’d be sunk then and there.

It’s enough to make him question just what the right direction really is. Is it professional prestige and success, something loud and demonstrable and brassy? Or is it something longer lasting, quieter and harder to pin, but somehow more vibrant? Happiness is still a foreign concept, something he can’t quite grasp. Who’s to say a turn towards the unknown is a turn in the wrong direction?

“John,” her voice cuts in. “Think this is our stop.”

Somehow, it might be worth it.