Revolution- Runaways 3 [EDITING]

Chapter 12: Eli

"I'm still pretty stunned that I'm walking around on my own two feet when I had a bone sticking out of my foot less than a week ago," Peyton told me.

I chuckled. "I kind of miss being able to take care of you. It isn't often you show weakness."

"Oh, be quiet, it was probably just annoying."

"Peyton, you have never once annoyed me. You just think it was annoying to me because it was annoying to you. You have a very small tolerance for your own shortcomings."

"And you don't? For yours I mean."

"Well, you're not wrong."

"Exactly." She took a seat on the bed beside me, running her fingers through my hair. "Actually, I take that back. I was wrong. Because you don't have any shortcomings. You're perfect."

A smile crept across her lips, so I knew she was joking, but I still blushed. "No one's perfect. Except you maybe."

She rolled her eyes. "Not this again. I know no one's flawless, silly. You aren't perfect because you don't have flaws; you're perfect because you do." She placed a gentle kiss to my lips. "And we're perfect for each other."

We were lucky to be alone in our bedroom. I kissed her back, a bit rougher so I could catch the taste that rested on her tongue. Fresh, with a hint of lemon.

My hands found their way into her hair. I was desperate to get closer to her, to eliminate any space that separated us. She threw her left leg across my hips, clearly thinking the same thing.

My lips traced the curve of her cheekbone and then her jaw before landing on her neck. Her hands pressed into my back as I kissed her. I felt them slip beneath my shirt as she pressed her cool fingers to my ribcage. I found my own hands doing the same. Seconds later, we were sitting there with my bare chest pressed against her sports bra. Every part of me desired to become every part of her.

Suddenly she caught my wrists in her hands, pressing her forehead to mine. It was only then that I realized they'd tried to get under the bra too. "After marriage, my love," she whispered. My cheeks warmed. She rarely called me that.

I groaned good-naturedly. Of course, she was right. We were already sleeping together, and that was too much in itself. There was no need to progress any further. "Then when can we get married?" I asked.

She smiled, wrapping her arms around my neck. "As soon as you turn eighteen, since you're a few months younger than me. Or as soon as this is over. Whichever comes last, I suppose. And besides, why are you asking me? You'll be the one proposing."

"I was expecting you to request we wait a little longer," I teased.

"Isn't that long enough?"

I kissed her slowly, letting us both enjoy it for a few moments. "It's much too long."

A knock sounded on the door before Skye barged in. Her hand flew up to her eyes, immediately regretting it. "Whoa, my god, I did not realize—I mean, am I interrupting—I mean, you know what, I'll give you two a second." She flew back up the stairs as quickly as she'd descended.

I met Peyton's gaze, and we both burst out laughing. I planted one last quick kiss on her jaw before retrieving her t-shirt from where it rested on the quilt. I didn't appreciate her sliding it back on, but she didn't exactly have a choice.

"Hey." She leaned in close enough so that her lips brushed my ear, smirking. "You've got some experience."

"Oh, you know, I've made my way around."

She punched my arm playfully. "Hey, you weren't supposed to agree."

I held my hands up defensively. "You asked! What was I supposed to say, that I practiced on my bedpost?" I couldn't say that with a straight face. I mean, it may have been true, but she didn't have to know that. What boy doesn't? She rolled her eyes. Girls could be so confusing sometimes, even Peyton.