Disclaimer: I do not own The Blacklist, or any of its characters. I am making no profit from this.
Authors note: Ok so this is my first fanfiction for The Blacklist. I haven't written in about 8 years but these characters just won't leave me alone! I don't even know where this came from, it was not what I intended writing when I sat down but apparently my muse had other ideas and this was born. I also live in the UK so sorry if some of the writing is British English and not American English.
He sat silently in the early hours of the morning, cradling a glass tumbler and staring into the fire. Sleep had evaded him, not an uncommon occurrence, but tonight his melancholy reached deep into the depths of his despair. He had more than most to despair over and tonight his pragmatism raged against his soul over his love for a woman.
He remembered the feeling upon first seeing her descend those stairs. Remembered his irritation at a flicker of something other than a casual interest in the woman she had become. He had known she was beautiful, but seeing her walk towards him had caused a reaction that was both unexpected and unwelcome. In his line of work complicated feelings were not only dangerous, but fell into the category of damn right stupid, and yet there was something about her that drew him in in a way he could scarcely remember feeling before. Her attitude to being there, her blasé way of attempting to belittle her importance, her attempts to control a situation he knew she felt out of her depth in, it all made a part of him sit up and take notice.
He should have known then that it was likely to get out of hand.
Raymond Reddington does not do things by half, and in barely no time at all, it appeared he had fallen deeply, irrevocably and terrifyingly in love with Elizabeth keen.
All the moments from the months of working with her, angering her, warning her, comforting her, had woven themselves together and embedded themselves within a heart he had thought, and hoped, was long cold and closed off to these kinds of feelings.
And now here he sat, desperate for the feelings not to exist, if only for the reason that they made everything so much harder.
Spending time with her on a daily basis was a cruel mix of pleasure and pain. Pleasure at being allowed to be in her presence, at being allowed to work with her and not against her and having the privilege of living a kind of domesticity that only added to the pain. Once Lizzie had stayed with him after Berlin had escaped it had become increasingly hard to compartmentalise his feelings. Seeing her in his kitchen in the morning, watching her curled up on the couch in the evening, walking Hudson together through the park, it all hinted at a life with her he couldn't allow himself to have. He had sworn long ago never again to love obviously, never again leave such a visible target.
Her things had started to appear in every room of the house, intertwining herself with his surroundings like she had always been there. The appearance of another hair grip on the coffee table or a pair of shoes kicked off by the back door, her purse on the counter, it always ensnared him into fantasising about what could be. The inevitable pain at the realisation that it could never be was almost not worth the pleasure of the musings of a life lived with her. Even if she returned his affection being with him would only make her miserable. His life was dark, hidden, lived far from the right side of the law, a law she had sworn to uphold. Necessity kept them together for the moment, they both needed answers and sometime in the future that would change and she wouldn't need him anymore. He was prepared for that, a small part of him hoped it would be sooner rather than later, perhaps then it wouldn't be so painful.
God knows he didn't mean or even want to fall in love with her. He had tried everything he could think of to discourage the feelings from taking root. Her presence in his life brought him a peace and joy he had no right to experience. So while he yearned for her in a way he couldn't possibly control he knew he would never allow himself to give in. He would never feel her lips against his, her breath on his neck as she curled up to him in bed or her skin against his on lazy Sunday mornings. The future he wanted for her was filled with the love of a man worthy of her. He wanted a man to appreciate the beauty of the person she was and be thankful for every smile she bestowed on him. He wanted her to experience the terrifying instant love when your baby is placed in your arms. The agonising thought that from that moment on your heart would walk around outside your body held in the hands of a child. He never wanted her to discover the despair and emptiness when that child is taken from you, the darkness that overtakes every aspect of your life. Happiness was not in his future, the Concierge of Crime had dues to pay and Raymond Reddington loved Elizabeth Keen enough to ensure that happiness filled her future in all the places his involvement in her life had taken it away.
He rolled his wrist distractedly, the rapidly melting ice clinking against the glass with the movement. He stared into the fire, never noticing the figure stood in the doorway observing him battle his internal war, while she felt increasingly crushed under the intensity of her own emerging feelings for him. He was too lost in his own turmoil to consider she may need help finding her way out of her own.
AN: Well I hope I wasn't terrible. I have put this as complete but there is potential for me to do a second part from Liz's POV if it is something people want to read. :-) Reviews are very welcome, even if its to tell me my writing needs work!