Moonstone Quarry And I pray that I'll make it before the night's up

He responded to her plea with movement, her own gaze searching his while he placed himself beside her. The heat from him was comforting, like a fire roaring at the hearth. Lulling her, asking her to close the distance he had left between them. Her attention found it, that space, and wanted more than anything for it to disappear between them.
 
When finally he spoke, his words were like a cold plunge.

"Oh..." was all she could say. That explains the wetness on her cheeks, then. Raising a paw, she wiped them dry, but it would do no good to clear the embarrassment that left its stain behind.

His next words melted away all feelings, but a calm remained; those four words holding a power so great that even the winds were drawn to it, a roar passing by the mouth of her den as if it didn't want to interrupt the peace within. And allow no others to bear witness to what transpired here.

That was what he was to her: her peace. And whether he knew it or not, she wanted to hold onto him, to hold onto what he offered her for as long as possible.

His presence here meant more than she dared speak and, maybe, some day she would tell him. Lay herself bare before him.

But, there was fear that kept her at bay, that kept her from closing the distance now: fear of rejection, fear of becoming lost once more.  

So, she remained against the furs. Finally a smile emerged, only for him to claim. One filled with so much to be said, where her eyes filled in the blanks as words failed her.

A deep breath in, a different set of words filling the silence.

"Am I correct in assuming that I am not the only one who has had trouble with sleep this night?"

the tension is thiccc