Test Chapter of sorts, as well as a beginning. Wanda is extremely curious as to Ian's point of view when she first blundered into the caves. So he tells her, as unable to deny her as he is.
Beside me, Wanda breathes in and out. It's a rhythm that soothes the falling anxiety. I can see her now that the light of day is returning, and it shines on her hair like a halo – my angle. Her pert nose scrunches in some thought. There are traces of a smile on her lips.
She sighs and rolls to face me. Her face rests against my chest, and I grin. I lay my hand in her curls and lean down to kiss her forehead – soft; she does not feel it. I look upward at the crack in the ceiling, at the light that illuminates our peace.
Wanda shifts in my arms again; she murmurs as she floats away from her dreams and returns to me. My hold on her tightens, the pressure just enough to make her aware once more.
"Ian?" Her head circumnavigates the surroundings until she realizes she is home – home with me. She smiles then and touches my cheek.
"Good morning, my Wanderer," I say, kissing her hair.
Her eyes close at the touch and then flutter open as if she is once again dreaming. "I don't know how you do that to me." She exhales a long, patient breath.
I chuckle. "Do what? Kiss you?" She giggles, and the sound is too much to ignore. "It is quite simple, actually. Even you could learn it – if you had the right teacher."
Wanda blushes. "And who may that teacher be?"
I pull her face up to reach mine. "Why I, of course. First, you must take your mouth and place on another's." I do so to her, and I drink in the giggles she cannot contain. "And then, you move your lips as such…." My instruction becomes lost in the grip of the kiss.
Wanda pulls her body higher to accommodate the distance and fists her hands in my hair – the clutch of her fingers so tentative and yet so passionate that my heart pumps fiercely and my kissing turns harder.
We pull away to catch our breaths. The lull in my chest flames fires through my veins. I touch our noses together and grin widely. "How was that?"
Her blush is so adorable. "Perfect."
"You're a natural," I say to her.
When we calm down, Wanda and I lay together looking up. Today, I remind myself, is a day of rest and rejuvenation. This is not a day to worry over chores or Seekers or the way Burns sneaks contemplative looks to my Wanderer whenever we pass.
"Ian." Wanda's voice is thoughtful, curious.
I lean up on my elbows and gaze down at her. "Yes?"
"Would you tell me what it was like? For you?"
I blink. "Whatwas what like for me?" And then I think I understand what she means but am confused. I am sure we already had this conversation once before.
Wanda apparently is thinking something else. Her cheeks do not blaze, and her eyes are not nervous. "When I came here – how did you feel; what made you decide what you did?" And then she shrunk, and the blush came. "You don't have to tell me if – if you'd rather not. I was just… curious."
I laugh and pull her onto my chest. "There's nothing wrong with asking. Of course I'll tell you. It's not a big deal, really. Well, at the time, it was….
So you want to read more? See what The Host was like for Ian O'Shea? Review your thoughts and opinions. How do you think Ian felt throughout the book?
Also, what'd you think of what I wrote? :-)