Lost and found

In the morning as you lay in bed, warm and content in Thomas' arms, you found yourself holding on to him more tightly than usual. For some reason today was a day you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to spend time with him. Having passions of your own, you understood that he had an unending drive and enduring perseverance when it came to his machine, but you also knew that if he kept spending whole days locked away with that machine, you would lose him. Or, quite possibly, yourself.

You wanted just one day when you could laze around with Thomas. One day where you didn't have to walk the cold corridors alone. One day where you didn't have to face Lucille on your own. You were beginning to realize that even since the beginning, Thomas had made things more tolerable for you. It was more than that though. He had made them exciting again.

You watched him as he slept beside you, a peaceful expression on his face. Not thinking, you traced the line of his jaw with your finger, landing on his lips. You startled into a smile when those lips kissed your finger. Thomas' eyes fluttered open and he looked over sleepily at you.

"Do you know there is no greater sight to awaken to than that of your face?" he asked, his words heavy with sleep.

You blushed and looked away. He was on already. You dreaded the moment he would leave you for his cold tools and red clay. The expression must have read clearly on his face for he furrowed his brow.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked, rolling over slightly to gaze at you.

You brushed your hand across his cheek and smiled fondly.

"No," you answered. "You said everything right."

His look of confusion did not lessen. You sat up, uncaring that your naked chest was uncovered by the blankets. Thomas did not miss the chance to admire your breasts before returning his attention to your face. You trailed your fingers down his firm chest, tracing patterns into his skin.

"I want you to stay," you barely whispered. It felt childish, like asking a relative to pick you up in their arms when you were much too old. "I don't want to be alone today," you managed to add through the embarrassment. Of course you were not afraid of Thomas' outward reaction. He had always and would always be kind to you. You were simply afraid that he might secretly think you ridiculous for requesting he spend an entire day with you.

"I'm right here," Thomas smiled easily. Your hand trailed down further towards his hips. You traced your name into his skin, wishing you could write it a thousand times so the world would know he was yours.

"For now," you conceded. "Do you know what it's like when you're gone?" you asked. You moved to straddle his hips, watching with delight as his eyes widened in response.

"No," he answered, clearing his throat a little. You smirked inwardly. This was petty, but it would get him to stay a little longer. You carefully unpinned your hair and let it fall around your face and shoulders.

"It's awful," you said truthfully. "When you're away all day... It's like a part of me is missing." You had meant to merely say it was awful, but the truth and loneliness came out on their own accord.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. He reached up to caress your hip. You leaned down to kiss him gently. When you pulled away he was smiling. "I will stay," he said. "Today. Just you and me."

"Really?" you asked, feeling equally elated and guilty.

"Of course," he answered as though it were obvious. "If my love requires my affections, then that is what she shall get."

You smiled and bit your lower lip. A playful gaze took over your eyes as you started to move your hips on top of him. A breathy sigh escaped Thomas' lips as he involuntarily brought his hips upwards. His eyes fluttered at your repeated movements and you could feel him growing harder beneath you. You felt empowered on top of him, watching him writhe beneath you. You could feel yourself growing wetter at the mere sight of him. His hands clutched your hips, his chest muscles tightened, his neck strained the slightest bit so that the muscles stretched in a rather delightful manner. When he opened his eyes there was a fire there - a fire that you had started. You doubled your efforts, slipping your hand down to stroke him now. Watching his reaction, you gauged what he liked best. Finally, you moved yourself into position and slowly lowered yourself down onto him. You both let out a sigh as he slipped into you easily.

You braced yourself, placing your hands on his chest. Unsure, but ready to test it out, you rose up, letting him slide almost all the way out of you before slowly lowering yourself back down. Thomas' grip on your hips tightened. You raised yourself again, this time assisted by Thomas. Repeating this slow pace, you soon felt that familiar tightening. You began to go faster, quickly doubling the pace. Thomas' moans underneath you fueled your thrusts and soon his hips were bucking up to meet you, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

Thomas' eyes were right on you, watching you ride him with a look that both thrilled and scared you a little. The passion there, the love, the desire, was so intense. You hoped that you matched it and that when he looked at you, he saw everything you wanted from him.

Your orgasm took you by surprise and you nearly screamed Thomas' name. He watched with a small smile on his face that was only interrupted as his own orgasm took him. Your thrusts became more frantic as you rode them out, feeling Thomas spilling inside you. Your nails dug into his chest, releasing only when you had come down from your high. Your hips had sustained similar treatment from Thomas' hands. Welcome trophies.

You ran your hands through your hair, trying to return your breath to normal. Thomas sat up and kissed you, wrapping his arms around you. He buried his face in your hair and breathed you in. He gently rolled you over and slipped out of you, leaving you feeling just the least bit empty. Everything was better with Thomas. Especially like this. The house didn't feel so cold, the snow didn't seem so heavy. The way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world... You wished the moment could last forever.

Thomas laid down next to you, and you rolled over to look at him.

"Well, I'm not sure how we're going to top that with the rest of the days activities," he smirked. "But I am willing to give it a shot." A hint of mischief graced his features before he kissed you. "What would my princess like to do today?" he asked.

Truthfully, you would have spent the whole day in bed with Thomas. You had a feeling that your passions would take a while to extinguish, if they were in fact limited. However, you wanted to share more than just your bed with Thomas. You wanted to be in the house with him. Hopefully memories of him with you would help you get through the rest of the days when you were alone in the house.

"The library?" you asked. Feeling childish again, you asked, "Would you read to me?"

"Of course," he smiled. "Anything you ask of me, it is yours."

When you were able to haul yourselves out of bed, you got dressed. You felt it was about time you put on actual clothes. It felt nice to do so, like you had a purpose. You really needed to get back to writing, you decided, but today was for Thomas.

After a quick breakfast, blissfully devoid of Lucille, Thomas led you to the library. It would never cease to amaze you how large the library was. Other owners might have used the space for something else like a ballroom for guests, but these wonderful people devoted the space to the written word.

You followed Thomas as he wandered through the many shelves, tracing his fingers along the spines, searching. The leather-bound books seemed endless. You saw one that stuck out a bit from the others. Curious, you pulled it out to take a look at the title. You were alarmed when something fell from the shelves and hit the ground. It shimmered in the morning light. Leaning down to pick it up, you discovered it was a necklace. A plain, wooden heart on a golden chain. Why would a necklace be in a library?

You stood up, book in one hand, necklace in the other, to see a sad and concerned-looking Thomas.

"What is this?" you asked.

Thomas gave you a small, sad, smile. He took the necklace you presented and inspected it knowingly. He held it in his hands like the hand of an old friend.

"It belonged to my late wife," he said softly, barely audibly.

"Oh," was all you could manage. You had managed to forget that Thomas had been married once before, and that it had ended tragically.

Thomas said nothing and walked over to the nearby table. He sat down, staring at the necklace.

"She said she lost it," he reminisced. You sat down next to him, not touching him, just... being there. "She said she lost it, but she hid it." He shook his head. You weren't quite sure what he was feeling.

"What is it?" you repeated, not understanding the meaning behind it.

"I made this necklace for her when she first came here," he said. He still did not mention her by name and you were afraid to ask for it. "She was unhappy, as was I. It wasn't a marriage out of love... She was looking for an escape, and I thought Lucille might be less lonely... We never really... I tried to make her happy here." He looked so lost you wanted to pull him back from whatever dreadful memory he was in.

"I'm sorry," was all you could think to say. "She was lucky to have such a kind man."

Thomas smiled bitterly.

"Kindness couldn't save her. Her unhappiness here killed her in the end, I'm sure of it. She started getting sick right after the marriage... It was just a slow decline. Even though I didn't... I didn't love her, it was still hard." You could see how hard it had been. Love or no, living with another person, watching them die, it could not have been easy.

He twisted the chain, making the necklace spin. It was a simple heart, certainly no music box, but he had tried. He had done something for her. His kind heart never ceased to amaze you.

"It must have been difficult," you soothed him, laying your hand on his.

"It was," he admitted. "And I do not wish to go through it again," he said, almost as if he were warning you.

"I'm not going anywhere," you promised for what felt like the hundredth time.

He pulled your hand to his lips and kissed it.

"It would be far worse to lose you," he admitted. He closed his eyes and laid your hand against his forehead. "I do believe it might actually kill me."

You let that sink in for a moment before you realized you weren't breathing. Thomas' devotion to you had never been in question, but to the point of your loss affecting him so? You took a few deep breaths. You were about to counter him, to say something to the point that he would surely survive your loss, move on, eventually be happy. But then you thought about the opposite. If the roles were reversed, would you survive the loss? Coming up with nothing but his same feelings, you remained silent for time.

Somewhere outside the bubble you and Thomas had found yourselves in, you heard the wind howling outside. It was nearly silent in the library besides the sound of your and Thomas' breaths.

"Will you read to me?" you asked tentatively. You didn't want to make him do anything he wasn't up to, but you also did not want to watch him like this. He perked up at the suggestion, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Of course," he answered. He stood, taking the book you had grabbed, and led you over to the large armchair.

You curled up in his lap and draped a blanket over the two of you. Snuggling in, you watched as Thomas found the beginning of the story.

In Thomas' arms, listening to him read to you, it felt like heaven. His voice was smooth and did not falter. He kept the story alive and you listened with rapt attention. Every now and then he would glance at you while finishing a line, or stop to plant a kiss on your lips or forehead.

You did not notice that foot after foot of snow was piling up outside. The wind continued to howl and the snow continued falling, essentially sealing you into the house. But for you, there was only Thomas' voice, and the calm, drifting, feeling you felt snuggled against him