So I was not expecting to write this - I was only scrolling through tumblr, looking as usual at SkyeWard pictures, and then stumbled across a post that forced me to write on my laptop right away and get the hell writing. This was written in a span of ten minutes and is messy and jumbled together and I just hope you guys enjoy it.

Inspired by skyewward's post. Stupid fanfiction won't let me embed the link no matter how hard I try, so sorry.

"But we can't go back. We can only go forward." -Libba Bray

When the pounding, firm knocking starts on his door, he's a bit confused at first. He's nearly asleep at that point, circled up and tangled in the sheets with the thin fabric pulled up to his chin, so when he, in a sleep haze, tries to get up, his foot catches the edge of the bed and he falls flat on his face. He swears as his nose starts throbbing slightly, and so when he opens the door to reveal a rather pissed off brunette, he's scowling while holding a callused hand flat over his face.

It doesn't help when she slaps him. Hard.

He swears again, jerking away from her. "What the hell was that for?" he bellows, clenching his teeth.

She doesn't flinch — doesn't do anything really, except glare at him like he is the reason for all her troubles. (Well, in a way, he is.) Her eyes are narrowed and her hands are by her hips, clenched into fists. She looks like she's going to punch him again so he carefully backs away, his eyes searching for something to protect him if she does.

She steps forward, into his bunk and his personal space. His knees bump against the back of his bed and he nearly trips again, but is saved (miraculously) by his uncanny balance and ability to not break all of this fingers in his hand when he whips it against the corner where one wall meets the other.

"What—" he starts, before pausing, trying desperately to keep himself calm. It's only been two months since he's been back on the Bus since his stint in prison, and he can't do anything (like kick her out, for one) that would force him to leave again. But his head is spinning and he's not thinking straight so when he blurts out, "What in the name of holy hell is wrong with you?"

Her expression is throughly, utterly, and completely spread with anger. "Me?" she asks, her voice rather cold. "Me? You bastard — I hate you. I hate you so damn much."

He's rather confused at this point. His head tilts to the side, her eyebrows raising. "I know that," he says slowly, and although it hurts his heart to speak those words, he knows it's true. She detests him more than anyone on the whole planet — and he deserves it.

And so he listens to her rant. He takes it.

"You ruined everything, you stupid asshole — you played us. You were on the Bus and you just stupid played us like we were little children. You protected us and then turned around and then oh! Suddenly it appears that you're working for the man who ordered a bullet to be put in me. And it's just so stupid because you're just stupid and everything and god, how could you? How could you do that to me — to us?"

She continues and he mostly tunes out at some point, holding his palm tight to his nose. He's tired, sore, and he just wants to go back to sleep.

"—and it's just idiotic that you turned around and betrayed everything, everyone; I thought of you as this robot, this man that was my S.O. and for a second I actually believed that I could actually have a future with you—" her voice breaks at this point and his head snaps up, as if he can't believe what she's saying. She isn't — is she? "—and god, I just wanted a chance. You broke my heart you jackass and it's horrible and it's not fair and I hate you."

He swallows hard. A single tears rolls down her cheeks; her chest is heaving. He lowers his chin, closing his eyes. He doesn't want to hear anymore of this — he can't. Because he knows what he did was unforgivable. He knows that he never has any chance of the world with her.

But what she doesn't know is that she broke his heart too.

He thinks she's done. Until: "But most of all — I hate that I don't actually hate you," she whispers in the tiniest voice he's ever heard from the usually strong spoken girl and his head whips up.

"Skye?" he mumbles, blinking. "What—"

She's crossing the room then, wrapping her hands firmly around his neck and jerking him down to meet her lips. He responds almost instantly, abandoning his swollen nose in favor for her hips, slipping his palms under her thighs and lifting her up. Her ankles lock around his back as their mouths fuse together, releasing every last little bit of everything he's wanted to do for the past few months.

And when they stumble backward, him landing on his back on the bed, she only continues. Her hands slip under his shirt and run themselves over his chest, jerking the thin fabric off. They're kissing and it's frantic and heavy and he can't breathe —

But then his hand are whispering along the bare skin of her taunt stomach and he freezes from where his lips are at her neck, swallowing harshly. He's can't think — his senses are overwhelming with everything Skye and when he pauses she follows suit, leaning back from him.

Her eyes are clear for the first time in months as she stares down at him, her palms stilling on his chest. "Ward?" she asks, her voice curious.

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

There's no pause as she leans down to meet him, slanting his lips over hers with a heavy kiss. "Yes," she breathes, and his heart leaps.

And when they lay in each other's arms hours later, him tracing patterns along her bare skin, his eyes blinking closed, he held her tighter than he ever had before.

Because he wasn't letting her go. He wasn't going to screw this up.

Not again.

*smiles very widely and cackles with glee*