Readjusting so that she was sitting, rather than laying, on the couch, Claire brought one knee up to her chest and crossed her arms over it, focusing a lazy smile on Mohinder. I could just eat him up, she mused to herself, letting one hand stray down to brush against his leg. “You have not mentioned that, no….not at all.” Honestly, she couldn’t say she objected. Even tipsy, the place felt more like a home than any place she’d ever lived. Only with William did she feel this relaxed, at peace. Something beyond logic told her she was in good hands with Mohinder, and that he would somehow find a way to end her nightmare.
She took comfort in that thought, and in his proximity. Though that same proximity was more than comforting; it was exhilarating, stirring. Claire could feel her pulse in her ears as he turned his head and those big, soft eyes stared so questioningly into her own. A kiss…like his request, it was simplistic in nature, but contained so much more than just a gesture. She could’ve sworn she stopped breathing for a moment, and her world stood still. It must be the alcohol, she told herself, you don’t get sentimental. Yet there she sat, fingers grazing against him, indecision warring in her head.
“I would.” The words had left her mouth before she was even conscious of having thought them, and she didn’t wait for him to respond before closing the suddenly gaping distance between them. His permission, his stated desire was all she’d needed to follow what her instincts had been telling her almost the entire day. The first breath of contact was electric and she froze, unsure if she could even move. And then she simply melted into what didn’t quite end at a friendly acquiescence to the ‘traditional kiss at the door.’ Mohinder’s lips were unexpectedly soft and she relished the feeling as she gently nipped at his lower lip before breaking apart. She had to; she was afraid she wouldn’t stop at all if she didn’t stop now. Even then, she could only part far enough to rest her forehead against his, eyes closed, lips parted in a grin.
“You’re a brave soul,” she murmured, hand moving from his leg to his arm where slender fingers traced nonsense patterns. They itched to run through his curls, but that felt too intimate too soon. This might be something he regretted in the morning…“Kissing me after only a few silly hours…” Not that Claire objected.