Day 5: At the Lake With Cullen, Realizing Intimacy Doesn’t Always Mean Physical – prompt by @shannaraisles

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Hey all! So I know this was supposed to be June’s challenge, but since that month decided to blow up in my face right toward the beginning, I decided to put a pause on the challenge. But I’m picking it back up and trying to get back into things. So without further ado, enjoy!

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Sidni glances down at the coin resting in her palm. It’s bright in contrast to the leather wrapped around her skin, the metal cool against her bare fingers when she closes them around it. Cullen’s one possession he’s kept with him all these years, and he’s handed it over to her.

She stares out across the dark lake, feeling his chest rise and fall under the plate against her back. His arms rest loosely across her stomach, his cheek pressed to her hair. Their legs dangle over the edge of the dock together. His limbs surround her entire body, and yet, she doesn’t feel caged.

She should.

Her jaw clenches as she forces the thought away. No. She shouldn’t. She’s safe here. She’s wanted.

The importance of the small gift is not lost on her. Through all of the shit, all of the horrors, Cullen clung to this. A token from a family member. It suddenly feels much heavier than it did a moment ago.

She stills. Before … before the Inquisition, she knows what this would mean. Something important given to her would warrant something in return. Most of the time, it was the use of her body. Sometimes, it was more blood on her hands. She thinks of turning, finding those damn buckles on his armor and undoing them, pulling the laces on his breeches loose.

Sick rises in her throat. It feels wrong to even think of such a thing. But life has taught her it’s what you do.

Haven’t you learned most of what you know is wrong?

She starts, prompting Cullen to squeeze his arms gently around her. Still, she thinks frantically of the possessions she’s come to recently own. There’s nothing of value like this simple coin. Her heart sinks, even as she pats at the hidden pockets in her leathers surreptitiously.

“Sidni,” Cullen murmurs, laying a hand over hers to still her movements.

Maybe not at subtle as she thought.

With nothing else to offer, she swallows the sense of wrong, tucks the coin away, and turns, shifting to her knees. His grip loosens, arms moving to support himself. Their eyes meet as she hesitates. The way his brow furrows batters at her resolve, but she forces herself to reach forward, to push at his coat. She drops her gaze, unable to hold his. It all feels wrong, but she has to–

Her fingers lock in the worn fabric, her forehead hitting his chest plate with a dull thud. Her heart screams that this will cheapen him, ruin his gift. Cullen … Cullen offers her his heart freely. His love. And he’s never asked for anything in return.

Only perhaps her happiness.

She presses her face into his neck and winds her arms around his shoulders. This time it’s guilt that nearly chokes her. To do that to him. To even think it. She kisses an apology into his skin, then another, until they shift into promises to cherish him and to show him what his gift means to her until the day she dies. To be the person he believes she is.

His answering embrace soothes her. He breathes her in, brushing a hand down her back. And suddenly, she knows. Those words he speaks so freely to her encompass all of this and more. She tightens her grip around him and smiles. He chuckles.

“I love you.”

She can finally tell him, with absolute certainty, “I know you do.”

And for now, it’s enough.