Disclaimer: I don't own ER. I know its been a long time since I've updated this and that's because I've not been at all happy with it. I felt that Ray's character was too weak, and I didn't really like Neela either, so I've rewritten everything that I'd written so far, I hope you enjoy the rewrite, and I hope that I'll be able to update it more frequently than I have been, last week's episode is spurring me on! Thank you for all your reviews to the previous version. As always, reviews are like homemade chocolates, morish!
--- Prologue: The Consequences of Alcohol ---
She could feel the whispers of his breath tickling the hairs on the back of her neck, the full length of his body pressing against hers in a tight embrace. Neela closed her eyes again, counting to ten, half hoping that when she re-opened them she'd be in her own bed, in her own apartment, but knowing deep down that she'd still be in his. This hadn't been part of her plan, they were simply going for a quick drink after work and she was going to tell him she was leaving. At some point during the evening, maybe after her fourth glass of wine, her plan had been pushed out the window as they talked about work, caught up, as they settled back into the comfort of each other's company, and as happens, normally to other people not to her, one thing had led to another, and here she was, waking up in his arms.
The problem was she knew it shouldn't have happened, as much as she might have wanted it to, it shouldn't have. This tall, gorgeous man who was wrapped around her, and who knew her better than anyone, had a girlfriend, a girl he'd been seeing for a few months, and she, well she was leaving in a few hours, something she'd neglected to tell him the night before.
As she gazed at the ceiling of his room, she tried to conjure up a new plan, it was hard when all she wanted to do was turn around and wake him with a kiss, but she had to be strong if she was to get out of this with her heart intact.
As far as Neela could tell she only had two options, to leave before he woke, or to wake him – she turned her head to gaze at him, looking almost boy like in sleep – and tell him she was leaving or she could..., no, that wasn't an option. Somehow she didn't think he'd understand why she was leaving, why would he, when she couldn't tell him the real reason. She didn't want to get into a fight either, but she also couldn't sneak out, he meant far too much to her to leave without a goodbye. She was screwed which ever option she chose.
Lifting the pale arm that was draped around her waist she slowly extracted herself from his hold, and his bed. Neela paused for a moment as he seemed to stir but he rolled onto his front, and then she started to gather her clothes from the floor, remembering with delayed embarrassment that her blouse and bra were by the couch in the other room. It was hard to believe that she was leaving, she'd wanted this to happen for so long, if she was completely honest since before she married Michael, and now here she was walking away, all because of that damned ethical alarm system of hers.
After pulling on the rest of her clothes she wandered into the kitchen, and ran the tap, waiting for it to run icy cold before she filled a glass; she could feel the onset of a hangover creeping in and she couldn't deal with that on top of everything else. She looked around the kitchen, it was relatively tidy for Ray, a few pans and some crockery piled in the sink, mail strewn across the worktop... then she realised what she could do.
She could write him a letter, she could explain why she was leaving, and he wouldn't be able to fight her or question her reasons. She quickly found a blank piece of paper and a well chewed pen and sat herself down to write. Her thoughts poured onto the paper as she told it what she couldn't tell him to his face, and as she finished she felt a wave of relief wash over her, she'd done it.
From her seat, her gaze fell across the apartment, last night was the first time in a long while that she'd been here, and she could now see the subtle changes he'd made since she left, the coffee table a foot further from the couch than it had ever been, though, of course, they could have pushed it there last night, she felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought. There was the fish tank against the wall, but she was surprised by how little else he'd changed. Apart from the table, the furniture hadn't moved, even though she strongly remembered numerous arguments about the positioning of the TV it was still in the same place it always had been.
Memories of her time there washed over her as Neela looked around, and she let them, she had a feeling this would be the last time she was here, and it seemed kind of appropriate to take some time to say goodbye to the place that had been her home for two, mostly happy, years in a way she hadn't when she moved out. She took in the couch where they'd spent so much time watching horror films, celebrity poker, and where last night - she had a flash of him above her, head lowered to her... - no she wasn't going there, not now, she'd never leave; the kitchen where he'd cooked for her, feeding her tasters straight from the pan; the bathroom where they'd argued over the hot water, the cleaning and her black eyeliner, it seemed like a lifetime ago.
Neela eventually wandered back into his room and leant against the wall, watching him sleep a while longer. She'd never tired of watching him sleep, when she'd lived here she'd often had to wake him in the morning, and she'd, on more than one occasion, found herself standing in his room, having forgotten for a second why she was there, the glass of ice cold water warming in her hand, until she remembered that it was destined for his head.
As she continued to gaze at him, his eyes slowly flickered open, and a slow smile lit up his face 'Hey'
'Hey'
As the sleep receded she notice him taking in her clothes, her upright position 'You're dressed? Why are you up? Come back to bed' he mumbled around the pillow, and then he gave her that sexy little smile of his that stirred the butterflies in her stomach every time she saw it. Surely it shouldn't be this easy, shouldn't he be embarrassed about what happened? She was, that was for sure, but the embarrassment seemed to be losing the battle against her desire to rip off her clothes and join him.
'Yeah, I have to go I'm afraid, there's somewhere I need to be' there's a plane I need to catch, she silently added as she edged towards the door, away from temptation.
He threw the sheet off, quickly pulling on a pair of boxers that were piled on the floor, as if he suddenly didn't feel quite so confident in this situation. He stopped just in front of her, her eyes level with his bare chest, if she just leant...no, not happening. 'We're okay, aren't we? I mean last night...'
Neela smiled weakly at him, unable to let him finish that sentence 'Yes, of course we are, I've just got this thing'
'We'll talk later, right? Give me a call when you're done and we can meet up, we should talk about this'
How was she supposed to answer that? She closed her eyes, fighting back the lump that was rising in her throat, if only he wasn't so... Ray, it would be easier to do this.
He reached out to gently stroke her cheek 'Hey, we'll work this out, you know? You're my best friend, I can't lose that'
She finally raised her eyes to his, covering his hand with her own 'You won't, you're my best friend too, nothing'll change that, I promise'
She leant up and gently touched her lips to his, storing the memory of their feel away to last her a lifetime, blinking back the sudden tears that rose at the thought.
She pulled away, and he followed her to the door. Even with her back to him Neela could picture how he moved as he walked; the look in his eyes as he caught hers over a crowded room, the mixture of amusement and something more; the feel of his skin, naked and hot against her own, and as she grasped the door handle she took one last glance over her shoulder, taking him in one last time, and then, with a whispered goodbye, she walked out of his apartment, and let the tears fall.