Ignore It
Lee wants to ignore the fact that Kara's fallen asleep on his shoulder. He wants to ignore how easy it is for his arm, even mostly trapped by her body, to want to curl around her shoulders. Lee desperately wants to ignore it when Kara shifts in her sleep, rolls a little into the curve of him as they sit there on the couch, party thrumming around them.
He wants to ignore how good it feels when her head comes to rest on his chest, with her arm draped over his waist, her strong, slight hand tugging at his shirt and his side like she was a kneading kitten. He wants to ignore how her good her hair smells, even when washed by the medicinal soap provided at the Academy; he wants to ignore the way the sharp ends of her haphazard up-knot tickles his chin and his lips.
He has gotten good at ignoring how much he wants to kiss her sometimes, times like this when she's quiet and close and they aren't trying to one up each other. He tries to ignore the slow spread of warmth through his body because he can't kiss her, not now, not like this. Maybe not ever. So he ignores the impulses that stream through him, the ones that tell him to lift up her chin, the ones that tell him to kiss her softly. He's almost learned ignore the oh-so-real dreams he's had of kissing her, of what it would be like to have her mouth open under his, to have his tongue stroke languidly against hers, to have her reach up and thread her fingers through his hair, to bite her lower lip as he pulls back, to have her sigh and smile under his ministrations.
Lee watches everyone else at the party ignore them. Everyone else has long since stopped caring whether Lee and Kara an item. They are what they are, he heard someone say tonight. Like most truths, there's a lot more going on than what appears to be, Lee thinks -- knows.
He's gotten good at ignoring a lot of things in his life. More since he met Kara, fell a little bit in love with her. Tonight he tries to ignore the little voices, impulses, and dreams. Instead Lee pulls the still slumbering Kara closer to him, holds on to her. Her shirt has come up a little bit in the back and pale, milky skin peaks out. Lee rests his hand there, gently rubbing her skin with his thumb.
Tonight has been a good night, he thinks, even if he has had to ignore his desires and his dreams. After all, it's something at which he's had a lot of practice.