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Story Notes:
I've always been mesmerized by the look on Pam's face after Jim says "It's a date." Her smile is always bright and gorgeous, but in that moment, with the tears in her eyes, it's just what I've always imagined true elation to look like. (Great big wow to Jenna for how authentic it seemed.) At any rate...this is a pointless fluffy run-on of what that might have felt like into the next day.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and mean no harm.
When the life you're living surpasses the dreams you’ve dreamt…

She had the mug of tea tucked tight against her hand. The green ceramic cup was hot, uncomfortably so, against the skin of her palm. But she didn’t mind. She kind of hoped it burned.

It was a small price to pay to know she wasn’t dreaming.

She let the moisture pooling in her eyes play and distort the sight before her, streaking and stretching the lights and the colors. The little shadows in each corner of the room were being eaten away by the start of day and what was left hung a glorious purple backdrop for the mirrorballs each tear formed at the end of her lashes. They, like this room, seemed to hold so much more than expected. She cried because she felt real and full. It was almost painful how perfect it was, how beautiful.

Finally she blinked it all away, wanting to see him clearly.

The early morning sun creeping, slanting, across the soft lavender sheets, painted his flesh delicious shades of pinks and peaches. And her fingers could still feel the wonderful weight of him; she’d memorized it all in a night so that no matter what she could relive it for a lifetime.

She leaned forward from her perch on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb him…yet, and placed her tea on the bedside table. Folding herself so that her body followed his at every turn and bend, curving into him as closely as she could, she shared his heat and his breath and believed in miracles with all of her heart. She pressed her lips, tentative in the face of his slumber but certain of her love, to his throat, whispering without words gratitude for everything she’d ever been or ever had because of him.

She was smiling, beaming, glowing…because while there’d been countless moments in the last year where she’d been sure no one else had ever felt so lost, so desperately invisible, so utterly empty, as she did without his smile, she knew now that she was still beyond lucky. She was starting to suspect no one else could know what it meant to be this happy.

To love this much.

She sighed, because her world was so much smaller today than it had been yesterday, narrowed down to just his lips, his hands, his heart. Yet somehow that made her life seem bigger, richer. Somehow that meant the possibilities were limitless. She could lay here, right here, with him forever and still be bursting, and boundless, and free.

And the she laughed, quiet and easy, because she’d never been quite so philosophically sanguine before. Even thinking “philosophically sanguine” was new…yesterday she would have just thought of it as “mushy.”

She pulled back from where she’d buried her face into the warmth of his neck and shoulder, hoping to catch a nice view of his full lips slightly parted in a pleasant sleep, his eyelashes resting against his cheek.

Instead she found his eyes, soft but alert, looking at her like she could only hope she was looking at him, looking at her with everything she felt inside.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

There was no need to be whispering other than the fact that somehow it made the moment seem even more theirs.

His finger lightly traced a path from just above her eyebrow down past her temple, following the curve of her cheek under her chin, continuing along the soft column of her throat, before stopping with the heal of his hand hovering over her heart. He pressed his palm down and his smile widened when he felt the beat increase at his touch.

He laughed suddenly, though it was soft and light. “This may be the greatest morning ever.”

She grinned.

“Seriously, beats the hell out of every Christmas, every birthday.”

“Every Christmas? Even the one when you were 9 and got the Ninja Turtles playset you’d wanted for months and months?”

He knew she was teasing, but he couldn’t resist the sincere tone of his answer. “I’ve wanted you for years.”

She lifted her lips to his, and felt white heat and heard twinkling bells and smelled an ocean breeze, and lived in an instant everything else she’d ever associated with heaven.

He kissed her back in a way she could barely handle, and everything felt bright from the inside out. She felt like there was light inside her that could rival the sun, and he must have put it there or found it there or made it from what was in the very core of her like he was lighting a fire.

“Jim…” his name was both a plea and a prayer of thanksgiving.

He answered both with heavy breaths and the touch she couldn’t get enough of, and when she thought she’d break from how heavy happiness could be, he murmured that he loved her and she burst into pieces instead.

Everything was still a moment, then all her parts floated down and settled beneath him.

Her forehead was damp with sweat, her cheeks with tears. Her lips were glossy and swollen from the kisses she was living for and on.

Laying in his arms she felt herself being put back together.

“So, this is what this feels like.”

Jim chuckled, though his breathing wasn’t quite back to normal. “Not bad is it?”

“Not bad at all,” Pam agreed. Then she snuggled in further against the warmth of his chest, drifting happily into sleep…even though she had nothing left to dream of.


Coffeevixen is the author of 1 other stories.
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