First time writing Sieren (also my first time publishing non-HP). I can't get over this TV show, this couple is absolutely amazing and CANON (I don't think that many of my OTPs are canon...). Luke Newberry is flawless and Emmett Scanlan made me think that zombies can be bae too. Writing Sieren helps to deal with the pain of not having a 3rd season x-x

This story takes place after Kieren cleans Simon's face during 2x04, after the disastrous family meal.

I'm very thankful to have DaniHabisky as a beta reader ^^

Disclaimer: the characters here doesn't belong to me, they are the product of Dominic's geniality.

"Wrap your wings around my body

Wrap your wings around my body

Wrap your wings, wrap your wings

Wrap your wings around my body"

("Wings" – Hurt)

His cold, broad, pale chest is like a piece of marble carefully sculpted. It's weird to be lying on it, but it feels right, almost cozy. His strong hands drawing lazy patterns on your back, your own fingers feeling his rigid muscles above the thin sleeved shirt. You didn't know why you let him do it - put you to rest on top of his body on his bed, his legs splayed for you to adjust yourself to him, your head resting beneath his chin, his hands on your low back - but you just allow him...and you can't figure out a good reason to walk away.

The room is dark, the house is silent. You don't know where Amy is, you don't care where Amy is. Simon is embracing you, stroking your shoulder blades, nuzzling in your hair. You close your eyes when it begins to burn inside your veins. A burning, weird sensation, like your dead rotten blood is beginning to travel through your body once more, mixing with lava, like your silent heart is ready to beat again. Yet, it's all silence, except for the soft, low noise of Simon's skilled fingers moving lazily over your shirt, the soothingly contact of dead fingers on cotton.

You feel uneasy and scared to move. You want to move, you want to find a better position, to shake it off these sensations. You should probably leave, but you can't. Not when you can almost feel your senseless fingers twitching to decipher the format of Simon's chest, of that large, broad chest that you're hypnotized with. Simon is probably the most beautiful man you ever related to in a romantic way. At least you think this is a romantic tacit agreement between both of you…

He has some magnetic force that draws you in mercilessly. He's cheeky, and he's bossy, yet he's so gentle. You could never guess that dead whitened eyes could be so alive, so strong, so alluring and hypnotizing. You have mixed feelings over it. Sometimes you're afraid to look at the deepness of those eyes, because he looks at you in such a way... But you always look at it. Because the awe on his eyes almost makes you feel alive again, almost make you feel the butterflies going mad inside your stomach.

You feel lucky that your lungs don't need oxygen anymore, but somehow your chest is moving like you're breathless and it seems so involuntary that you're worried of why you can't control it. For a few seconds you can almost feel your nerves working again... But they're not, you're dead, so is the man beneath you, asking, slightly worried, with his thick accent, what's wrong with you. You can just mumble that you're okay...your day was shit...you just want to relax. But you have to touch those cold lips with your thumb to silence his imminent question.

You can't help but rub your fingertip on it, the memory of your first kiss flooding inside your mind. Simon's hands on your flanks squeeze you softly and you can swear that his body is stiffening...more than what it is already as a corpse. You let your hand slide to his strong jawline, running to his neck. Now Simon definitely makes a move, seeming a bit uneasy, unsure...his fingers twisting in your shirt. You let your hand follow its way down to his chest, that large piece of marble that's fascinating your mind.

You reach one button, feeling its tiny rigid form under your fingertip. You struggle to undo it. Then another. Simon whispers your name, his hands gripping firmly on the fabric of your shirt. Another button, and another. You become a little nervous while fumbling at your task, why so many buttons? Finally you can get rid of that piece of cloth, letting your palm touch Simon's skin. It's cold, but soft and you can feel how toned his muscles are. For some reason you feel his belly contracting as your thumb trails over it. Simon is perfect, he's beautiful...it feels so right to be there, lying above his body, caressing his torso...your pale frame is nothing compared to that manly body, you could almost feel a bit of shame of it if you were not that lost in sensations to care about such triviality.

Biting your own lip, you let your hand run to Simon's nipple, stroking it with your fingertips...driven by your curiosity you experiment to squeeze it gently between your thumb and index fingers. You hear your name under Simon's shaky breath - a breath he shouldn't have - and suddenly it's too much for you. Adjusting yourself clumsily above his body, you allow your mouth the pleasure to meet that flesh...kissing it, nibbling it...moving the fabric away, for you to have that bare torso only for yourself. A strong hand is tugging on your hair. It's exhilarating...

Your trail of kisses and gentle bites run up to his neck, to his Adam's apple, reaching his cold, yet tender lips. It's slow, but full of clear and undeniable desire. You couldn't remember the last time you felt something like that, you wouldn't imagine that considering your state you could feel it again...but you did feel it. And its mind blowing, it's overwhelming, it's intoxicating…

Those hands - those strong manly hands - slid to the hem of your jeans, going down your underwear, cupping your ass firmly, yet tenderly and you could swear you could feel goosebumps. Your hands rest on Simon's shoulders, one of them touching every inch of his upper arm. He's muscular, he feels like a Greek God immortalized in a magnificent marble statue.

You want him, you want him so badly that all the desire you ever felt in your previous life seems pointless. Now it's a burning need...it's like you need it for dear life...or death. That urge is so strong that's almost unbearable. You don't know what to do, you don't know what you - what both of you - can do on your current state...you don't know if you're hard or not, your body doesn't work like it used to before your rising... But you can feel it, palpable on the atmosphere, that you're on the edge, that he is also. You don't know how you can feel it, you just do.

Somehow you're making noises, like gasps, during the kiss. You can hear Simon doing the same, trying to get rid of your shirt, his rough hands spreading heat on your skin... It's weird how those dead, cold hands can do it. You help him, clumsily, and then your skinny chest is pressed to Simon's broad thorax. You moan…somehow you moan, and he squirms.

"Kieren…"

He murmurs hoarsely against your lips, and you bit him in pure reflex.

This man is changing the very core of your existence. He's twisting your sanity, messing with your beliefs, making you writhe, and gasp, and moan, and rub up against him. He's making your dead body feel...and it frightens you. It amazes you in such a way that it makes you dizzy. Like life pouring on your very flesh, on your dead senseless flesh. Hot boiling life vanishing everything petty...because you love him.

After all the madness and despair...against all the probabilities and the common sense...you're loving again. Simon is making you love even if your heart is gone. He's making you feel it so intensely that you no longer need a beating heart inside your ribcage.

You're flattered to be able to have him...and then it happens.

You shudder, he shudders and your voices are tangling in the air in the form of desperate gasps. It's like a wave...and it washes everything. It's different than how it was when you're alive, but it's exquisite...it's like every inch of your body is getting lighter and lighter...just like a breeze...

Those strong arms cuddle you up close and you can swear, God you can really swear, that he's smiling.

"Kieren..."

You hide your head in the crook of his neck, unable to speak. He giggles as you clutch on his bare flanks, kissing your hair softly, lovingly. You don't know what you two are, you never asked him and neither did he.

But you feel great...you feel special for having a second chance. You feel great to have that man and to be able to feel such infatuation for him...it makes you feel alive again. Alive and complete, without all the pain that drove you to the end of your first life.

It's the most precious blessing someone could ever give you. It's flawless.