Reactionary POV #14
Freedom

Rina

Disclaimers: Do you think I’d be sitting here if I actually owned them?

Let me clarify one thing before I start ranting: I like waking up with John, I really do, but waking up tied to him by possessed dog tags that seem hellbent on cutting off my air supply? That I don’t like.

"What did you do?"

Of course, I know it isn’t his fault, no more than it’s mine; the damn things just tangled together sometime during the night, and now we’re stuck together - and not in a good way.

"Let me see what I can do..."

I can’t pull back enough to see the damn things, so I work by touch, my fingertips brushing against John’s chest as I ease the chains out of their Gordian knot. The pull of his coarse, curly chest hair distracts me, and I curse as I drop the loose end of the chain, losing it in the midst of the tangle.

John shifts as I reach for it, and I automatically move to stay closer, compensating for that little distance that has sprung up between us. Strange; I was never what you would call a cuddler. I wanted my own space, both physical and emotional, but now - okay, he’s spoiled me. Going to sleep without him next to me, curled around me or me curled around him, isn’t easy.

Hell, half the time I can’t sleep at all if he isn’t here, and isn’t that a bitch of a thing to admit.

I finally locate the loop of chain I’ve been looking for, but, instead of getting back to work detangling us, I hook it around my finger and settle back against John’s chest, smiling at his startled interrogation.

"Like it this way," I murmur, moving upward enough to get a bit more tension off our tangled chains. "Just for a little longer, okay?"

Just a little longer, but it’ll be enough, to know we’re together, to know he’s safe, or as safe as I can keep him anyway.

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