butterflyfactor: (fading out fading in)
Layla Miller ([personal profile] butterflyfactor) wrote2010-03-21 01:54 am
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Layla was on the porch, sitting cross legged and straight backed in the chair, reading a travel book in Portuguese. She looked totally at ease and pleased with life. This was because for the first time in a long time, she knew something someone else didn't know, that actually applied to the island.

It felt good.
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[identity profile] butterflyfactor.livejournal.com 2010-04-06 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
She smiled a little, then opened her eyes.

"So, bottom line in the simplest terms: You like me. And I like you." She slipped one hand along his forearm and left her other arm looped around his shoulders.

"I don't really foresee any problems."
howmanylives: ([ch] That went well.)

[personal profile] howmanylives 2010-04-06 04:50 am (UTC)(link)
"Seriously?" he asked with a snort. "You seriously don't foresee any problems? Not a single one?"

[identity profile] butterflyfactor.livejournal.com 2010-04-06 05:27 am (UTC)(link)
"Here?" she replied, smile slipping a little, but only around her mouth.

"It's one big glorious question mark."

Okay, not so glorious. Every moment past the current one is to me as this water is- or hopefully after our little chat, was- to Jamie. No point acting like it, though. I can keep it together.
howmanylives: ([ga] And yes I am that awesome.)

[personal profile] howmanylives 2010-04-07 06:43 am (UTC)(link)
Making a small, thoughtful sound in the back of his throat, one eyebrow arched as he let his hand drop from her face to her shoulder, loosely twining the ends of her hair around his fingers. For a moment he just looked at her, her face largely obscured by shadow in the low light. "Well, in that case."

[identity profile] butterflyfactor.livejournal.com 2010-04-07 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
"In that case?" she repeated, settling her hands at the narrowest part of his hips.
howmanylives: ([ga] In your face.)

[personal profile] howmanylives 2010-04-07 08:02 am (UTC)(link)
Jamie suppressed a shiver, and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, unseen. Carefully, he placed his hands over Layla's, and guided them higher up his chest. He was panicked enough still for the both of them, and he had absolutely no intention to have a repeat of Mardi Gras.

"I'm a detective," he pointed out. "If there's a question mark, I say we look for an answer, hmm?"

[identity profile] butterflyfactor.livejournal.com 2010-04-08 07:21 am (UTC)(link)
Oops. Hands. Right.

She bit her lip momentarily before nodding, then smiling a little.

"Not the worst plan I ever heard," she said optimistically, before leaning up to kiss him again, lightly.
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