Hunger

A/N: To fill the lull in updates while I finish the last chapter of Progressing, I decided to post this drabble. Hope you enjoy it (and maybe it'll knock the writer's block out of me ;))

Will Turner set his hand on the door latch. "I'm opening the door, Elizabeth…"

"Just wait a moment, please! I'm not dressed."

Her voice issued from within the cabin. He smiled, looking back past the rumpled bed sheets to his wife's decidedly underdressed figure as she peered about the room in search of clothing. He chuckled softly, watching her sift without success amidst the bedding, the sunlight which streamed though the window portraying her in a beautiful golden light. Her hair cascaded in ribbons of honey over her bare shoulders. She looked perfection—golden and warm and inviting. Her eyes were drawn down as she searched, unaware that he watched her. His grasp tightened on the door handle.

"Elizabeth…please put something on." His voice was almost pleading.

She raised her eyes in the instigation of a retort, but changed at the sight of his expression. She reached for a shirt—his spare shirt—and slipped it on. "You're in a hurry, Will," she murmured, nonchalant as she bent down to retrieve a pair of trousers from beneath the bed, the pair she had donned the evening prior. She glanced up as she fastened them about her waist, meeting his heated gaze. "You must be starving; else you would not rush me so."

He left the door with an abrupt, indecipherable movement and came before her, slipping his hands about her waist. He touched her lips in a kiss, savouring her. She startled as he kissed her, long and slow, convincing her that if anything, his aim was not to rush her.