Clare bite her lip, wondering how she'd gotten herself into this predicament.

After the hideous results of last year's party, (when she got all Edward Cullen and bit Wesley Betenkamp on his neck,) you would think that Clare should know by now that parties aren't really her scene. She never seems to have much luck with them. Frankly, she wonders why she even decided to attend Alli's little get-together. She should have been focusing on more important things, like the English paper whose deadline was slowly approaching.

Oh god. No. She's not going to think about English right now. Not now, when she's here at this party and everyone's staring at her because of this stupid game and what he just asked.

"Clare, I don't have all day." His green eyes meet hers, and she freezes. God, what is it about him? She shivers a little, despite the moderate temperature of the room. There's just something about the way he smirks, so self-assured, and god, the way he says her name…

Her pulse races, a fine sheen of sweat appearing on her face. She bites her lip a little harder, afraid.

It's just a game, she reminds herself. I don't have to do anything… She clears her throat, having somehow lost her voice, and says, "Fine." His eyes meet hers again, and there's a certain glint to them. He smirks, more smug and arrogant then she ever imagined he could be. Of course, she won't mention how her heart flutters at the look in his eyes. It's so utterly male, so foreign, so… primal…

He rises, holding his hand out. She stands up without him, purposely ignoring his gentlemanly offer. The entire room is chittering, shocked that little Ms. Clare would agree to this. Alli looks like she's going to pass out from the wide smile on her face.

"Have fun you two! Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She says, bubbly as always, with an over-exaggerated wink in Clare's direction. She scoffs. Great, now we can do everything short of, well, nothing.

The closet is cramped and small, as closets usually are, and Clare finds herself pressed uncomfortably against a shoe rack and his warm, (too warm) body. She's pretty sure she's going to have a puncture wound from the high heel digging into her back, but she doesn't dare move. She's close enough to him as is.

Her eyes dart, from the floor to the ceiling to the brass doorknob, anything but his face. She's sure that if she sees the look in his eyes, she'll faint for sure.

"So, great party, huh?" Clare mumbles weakly, attempting conversation.

He just watches her, arms crossed, a smirk tugging on his lips.

"I mean, Dave, whoo, he's a riot." Clare tries again.

He stares.

There's silence.

She bursts, not looking at his eyes directly. "Will you say something?"

He offers a light, short laugh. "You're so cute when you're trying to resist me."

His words make her heart stop. She laughs feebly. "Eli! What are you talking about?" Her words are false, she knows, and even to her ears they sound fake, the word talking too loud and too strained.

"Clare." He scoffs.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what, saying your name, breathing, being in this closet with you? Sorry, I can't help any of those things," He pauses. "That is, unless you want me to call you something else. Mildred, maybe?" His words are laced with sarcasm, but he's still looking at her like that.

"Eli." She glares. How does he manage to anger and turn her on at the same time?

"You're right. Mildred is a little gothic for you."

"I'm sure you'd like that." She taunts, teasing his wardrobe.

He raises his eyebrow, seeing something in Clare's eyes that wasn't there before. Jealousy? He laughs, quietly. "No." He steps closer, if that's possible in such small a quarters. He leans his face in, ever slowly, until his lips are almost grazing her ear. She's tilted her head back a little, and he can almost hear her heart beat frantically. He smirks. "I like my woman with a little…" He notices the red tinge on her cheeks. "color." He finishes, pulling away ever so slightly, but still staying closer then before.

Clare's buzzing, her hand on the wall to steady herself. "C-Color?"

He smirks again. "Redheads are nice…" He trailed off, serious now, looking her dead-on. "And I seem to have a fondness for blue eyes."

That was it. Something inside Clare snapped, broke down, or maybe it just gave in, or maybe it just finally accepted that she, Clare Edwards, had fallen head over heals for Elijah Goldsworthy. Something inside her made her hand creep to the back of his neck and pull him in. His lips were inches away… centimeters… millimeters… and suddenly he pushed against her, folding her into his arms. His lips were hot, almost feverish, but they moved slowly yet passionately, demanding all and yet none. It was heaven, to say the least, and something churned inside her stomach and drew goosebumps down her spine. A soft, high-pitched noise escaped her throat, and she felt his lips smirk against hers. His arms held her up and he pressed against her harder, his tongue slipping against her lower lip. She's not very experience, she realizes, blushing, but he either doesn't notice or doesn't care. She lets him guide, their tongues moving together in a slow, intimate dance. His hands trace patterns on her back, and she can't breathe.

Eventually, he pulled away, his arms on either side of her, containing her in the small area.

Her eyes were shut, her breathing still rapid. Her face held an unearthly glow that Eli loves instantly. His heart was still pounding, his body warm. This all felt so surreal. He had to remind himself that this was real and not a dream, that she was real, and that the feeling of her lips against his… yes, that had been real as well.

Clare finally opened her eyes. There was something mirrored in his eyes, deep and raw and pure, only it wasn't the same look that he'd sported earlier. It was something so soft, so tender; it didn't feel right to dissect it.

She smiled a little, letting a small laugh out. Eli crumpled his brows in confusion. "What?"

She laughed again, and he caught a glimmer in her eyes. It was something that made him instantly relax. She was here, in his arms…

"It's nothing really. I just suddenly realized that I love parties…"