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Survival Instincts

Summary:

He won't let her freeze.

Work Text:

Survival Instincts

The alcohol burned her throat, but her stomach is a cold stone. Sydney hasn't been warm since Hong Kong. She tells Weiss that she's tired of shivering all night and of waking in the fetal position she'd assumed in the street.

She didn't drink enough to explain this; she drank enough not to care. Leaning toward Weiss, she tries to catch his eyes and mouth with her own. His expression is so soft -- she knows he'll be comforting and gentle. They'll help each other forget. When she says that aloud, he blinks slowly as though just realizing what the hell she's talking about. Then he turns away, mumbling about finding her extra blankets.

Crawling into bed, she tries to lie flat while waiting for him, but her body craves the tiny additional warmth of curling in on itself. She's afraid of shivering so hard that they'll only find Sydcicles this time. She tucks her knees upward and bites her lip to keep her teeth from chattering.

Weiss comes back after a few minutes. He starts to wrap just her in the blankets, but she shifts to her back, grabs his arm, and pulls him down. His body pins her to the bed, but the mere fact of his presence is what stills her shivering.

Even surprised, his lips and breath and hands are hot, and the way that Weiss surrounds her makes her feel less like she's decomposing. She can taste salt that might be sweat or might be tears, might be his or might be hers. She licks it and slides her arms around his neck.

She offers as much comfort as she can in exchange for his shelter. When she wakes, he's holding her so closely head-to-toe that her limbs tingle with the pressure of being alive.


- end -