~ LHARS ~
The words were like water to his soul.
Forcing himself not to whine with sheer joy, Lhars wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, and she came willingly, leaning into him, her knees pressed to his, her arms wrapped around his waist. And she rested her head on his chest.
Lhars couldn't breathe. As they stood together in the cold night air, he marveled that she fit against him so perfectly, all of her curves softly embracing all his hard angles. It was, he thought, the perfect metaphor for their friendship as much as their bodies.
They were opposite in so many ways, and yet their differences complimented each other, rather than grating.
Lhars closed his eyes and drank in the sensation of holding her, waiting for her to pull away. But she didn't. She didn't.
Then she squeezed him harder and he held his breath, his chest tightening.
