He'd been working on her for hours, saying he wanted to learn her body, talking to her about each body part in detail as his fingers probed the muscles and nerves.He'd heard the story of how she broke her pinkie in kindergarten, her arm at eight, the stitches in the bottom of her foot at eleven. They'd discussed every faded scar, every sore muscle; it was amazing how much of her life was recorded in her body if someone took the time to investigate.Garnet had learned the same stories, but over the course of months and years together, not hours. She'd never had anyone focus on her like this, and it made her feel treasured and cared for in ways that surprised her.He was sitting below her feet, deftly manipulating them into total relaxation when the clock began to chime, and as the last note sounded he pulled the sheet down to cover her feet."I'll fix us some snacks,” he said, standing and walking so he looked down at her face, “and run some fruit through the blender. I'll be on the patio, take whatever time you need before coming out.
