They never speak but when she touches Mal the floodgates open, words and thoughts come tumbling out, unbidden but not unwelcome. Feelings that never found purchase in the air surge inside her veins, thick and hot, filling the gaps left behind by the men that came before him. She feels light headed as the hum of the universe fades away into him and he becomes her world. It isn’t all heartache like she imagines, sometimes she touches that well of desire hidden within and drinks long and deep.

She lets it replace the fissures in her memories, lets it eclipses the black and silent chasm that threatens to swallow her whole with the muted greys of his pain. It makes her think she could stay inside him forever, simply fade away and but she can’t and pulls back when she can take no more. She draws her hands from him and he sags with relief before he touches her. “River,” Mal whispers and he knows she likes his hands on her. They speak to her, like warm sand beneath her feet, pleasant but coarse and they tumble over her, change her and shape her.

His fingers are buried in her hair and she watches his Adams apple bob up and down as the sweat gathers on the curve of his jaw. His eyes are half closed but she is watchful, seeing everything and taking it in hungrily, even if he does not. “River,” and Mal is speaking again and she urges him forward, the heels of her feet digging into his back.

It’s all new but memories that don’t belong to her guide her and he is patient and gentle. Mal knows she needs it not because she is fragile or broken but because too many people have tried to dam her and he will set her free. He touches her and she shudders, fingers grasping at his bare back with an urgency she has never felt. His breath is hot across her chest and she swallows the sounds that struggle up from his throat.

She wants to say his name but things are spinning fast and there is no language here, only a symphony of wordless noises as she climbs higher and higher. He touches his head to hers as he rushes into her