Chapter Text
*
They arrive at a moment that finds the studio parking lot miraculously empty of people, if not of cars. It's a small blessing Blake is more than willing to take as he maneuvers his vehicle to come to a smooth halt in the usual spot. Beside him, Gwen's form remains still in her seat.
Halfway through their drive over, her eyes had begun to close and he hadn't had the heart to distract her. Her even breathing now confirms his belief. Gwen had dozed off and it would be up to him to do something about it. In his heart, Blake wants to let her sleep, knowing full well why she hadn't.
Unbuckling his seat-belt and allowing it to fall back, Blake turns and shifts to face Gwen's side. Half of her face was pressed into the seat's padding, the other softly framed by waves of air-dried blond hair. When he reaches over and lets some of the loose strands comb over the back of his hand, they feel like silk falling though his fingers. Blake repeats the motion and wonders how much more amazing it would feel to sink the whole of his palm fully into the expanse of her fine tresses. Deciding he'd prefer Gwen fully conscious for him to find out, he lets the back of his knuckles rest against the side of Gwen's temple where only his thumb could continue its caress of her skin.
"Gwen," Blake begins to rouse her, trying softly as he could, as if she might shy away from the endearment slipping from his lips. “Sweetheart.”
He waits until she stirs, and when she does, her hand comes up to lace her fingers through his and she leans her face against their contact with an unguarded sigh.
"We're here."
"Say again?" Gwen mumbles, slowly blinking her eyes.
"We're at the studio."
She shakes her head, hair falling over her eyes. "Before that."
Blake leans in closer, freeing her sight with a sweep of his thumb.
"Sweetheart?" he repeats with a low rumble that melts the beginning of his question into a tender statement.
He is promptly rewarded with a sleepy smile and warm chocolate eyes now focused on him in a way that almost makes it impossible to breathe.
"Again..," Gwen hums against the inside of his palm.
Heat fills Blake's face, a blushing home for small dimples reacting to her.
"Gwen. Sweetheart."
Her eyelids sink down and another sigh escapes her when she feels Blake's forehead coming to rest against hers.
"I like the way you say that," Gwen admits quietly.
The ghost of a new touch trails from her cheekbones down to her chin, coming to rest on the small curve beneath her lower lip.
"That makes two of us."
Blake knows full well how mushy he sounds, and so must Gwen, he believes, especially when his drawl has this habit of becoming thicker every time he's been talking to her like that. But lord help him, it doesn't stop him from regarding her with as hopeful small-boy grin when Gwen's eyes flash open and she begins to giggle. She was here, with him, and he couldn't care less about how he sounded as long as she kept looking at him like that. Her small laugh turns into a yawn just as she shifted to lean more against his frame.
"Sorry about you're feeling tired."
"It'll be fine, you better stop worrying and start put your coaching hat on. I bet your super winning influence could get us first in line at the coffee stand.”
Gwen had moved on to teasing him, already too aware of how gentle distraction worked as a good tactic to keep the mood lighthearted. Blake still needed it more than he'd let on, even as his voice positively vibrated back against her's.
"Yes ma'am,” he grinned.
Then, more seriously. “Are you ready to go up to the Doc?"
Gwen takes a moment, sets her gaze directly into the deep blue of Blake's eyes and makes sure to squeeze his hand.
"I'm just ready to be back on your team."
*