Disclaimer: The characters in this story aren't mine.
Author's note: This is not the first story I've written, but (sadly) the only one I have been able to finish so far.
I dedicate this story to my dear acquainted friend Jilian.
The evening breeze brushed over C.C.'s bare arms and she shivered. She gazed up into the night blue sky and seemingly a million stars sparkled back at her. Her head felt dizzy, and her grip around the railing she had attached her left hand to earlier fastened.
She stood alone on the terrace of a villa, behind her the illuminated windows of yet another event she had to attend this week. The little shawl she had wrapped around her shoulders did little to keep her warm as the wind became slightly stronger – and colder.
The faint noises of the music that was played inside echoed out to her ears and added an eerie feeling to the deserted porch she found herself on. Her gaze drifted from the black sky back to the horizon, a garden, filled with all kinds of flowers, bushes, and trees.
She brought the glass she was holding in her right hand to her lips and emptied the remains into her mouth, the flavour dancing on her tongue, until she swallowed and the liquid left a burning sensation in her throat. The dizzy, yet oddly comforting feeling returned once more and she felt her mind fog up a little more as the alcohol did its magic.
She did not notice the door to the porch open and close behind her. She did not hear the wave of loud music that suddenly, for a moment, escaped the interior of the house. And she did not notice the man in a suit who, with two glasses in his hands, was slowly approaching her from the back.
"I was starting to wonder where you are."
She turned around at the familiar tone of his voice, a sly smile gracing her ruby red lips as she turned to him, her hand still firmly connected to the balustrade. The effort she had made to spin around to face him was almost too much for her light-headedness and she was afraid she was going to fall over.
"Why?", she managed to drawl to him.
"I was afraid you were going to scare the villagers, it's a full moon. I was only trying to prevent you from causing a bloodbath", he retorted, but she was in no condition to keep up with his wit right now as she wasn't able to form any clear thoughts in her head.
Her head was fuzzy, but she knew, in spite of what he had said, the two drinks in his hands spoke another language. He had probably been looking for her.
When she did not respond he sat down the glasses on one of the tables next to him, took off his coat and handed it to her.
"You must be freezing, Miss Babcock", he noted as he extended his arm to her. She did not make any effort to take his jacket, helplessly trying to retain her balance.
He noticed the glassy look in her eyes, saw her flushed cheeks, and realised a moment later that she probably had more than enough alcohol in her system, and, judging from the way she clung to the railing, she was barely even able to stand.
He stepped closer to her and carefully clad her in his coat, noticing how ice-cold her skin felt underneath his touch in the process.
"We really should go back inside, Miss Babcock", he mentioned, the trace of worry in his voice unquestionably present. One of his arms hugged her waist to support her while she reluctantly let go of the cold metal she had been holding on to, and clung to his body.
"I don't want to go inside", she whispered and heard him sigh audibly at her quiet plea.
He pondered for a moment, then sat them down on one of the benches on the veranda and in an attempt to keep her warm, hugged her against his chest.
Under all the vertigo in her head, she felt a comforting feeling in his embrace, that he so intuitively held her close in. Under normal circumstances she probably would have pushed him away or would have made other attempts to escape, but here she was, deliriously drunk and remarkably relaxed in Niles' arms. Her lips curved into a smile and her eyes closed for a split second. Like a carrousel, her mind began spinning, thinking a thousand thoughts at once. She felt his chest rising and falling beside her own body, his heart pulsating strong and sound beneath his ribcage, a surprisingly soothing sound, she thought.
Opening her eyes again, she tilted her head up to look into his face, and studied the deep blue orbs that were starring which just bore the slightest trace of worry under (what seemed to her like) pleasure. His eyes were almost smiling, but all the liquor she had consumed that evening made her question her ability to observe and analyse him properly; she might have just imagined it.
As she lay in his arms she felt the cloud gradually fade away from her brain. She stayed in his arms just a little longer than it was necessary; several minutes had passed after she had eventually decided she had everything under control again. She knew that if she didn't get up anytime soon now she wouldn't be able to justify her actions anymore, if not to him, then to herself.
"Niles, let's go inside", she murmured and got up from his warm frame.
He shuddered when the cold night touched the spot of his torso where just moments ago C.C.'s figure and his had warmed each other. He saw her hold out her hand to him and a happy feeling slowly crept through his limbs as he rose to his feet and let her pull him inside the house.
Immediately, the warmth of the room surrounded them like a comforting, cosy blanket, erasing every trace of the biting cold outside from their bodies.
"May I have this dance?", he asked, suddenly becoming very conscious of her hand, that was still entwined with his own.
She nodded wordlessly and he guided her onto the dance floor, placed his left hand at the small of her back and drew her close to his body, his right hand still linked with her left.
A smile graced the features of her face and she brought her head to rest on his shoulder, her cheek touching the skin of his face ever so slightly.
They moved across the ballroom effortlessly, their hips rhythmically swaying to the music that filled their ears.
He enjoyed the close contact he had with her. Whatever the reason for his delight (he knew she was a beautiful, smart, elegant woman, regardless of the names he called her, in spite of the numerous zingers he threw her way, and even though he publicly denied that there was anything remotely attractive to her), he found himself strangely bound to this woman, attracted even, as if she had cast a spell on him.
Little did he know that C.C., for her part, was smiling against his shoulder, just feeling as contentedly as he felt (something she would never openly admit to either), dancing with her eyes closed. Once again, she was amazed by the comfort she felt in the arms of this particular man, happy to have an excuse to be so near to him, to share this dance with him and she thought to herself that she never wanted this feeling to end. He felt so good, his stature muscular and broad-shouldered, holding her closely. She was glad there was no way he could notice the fluttering of her heart in her chest. For all she knew, this was not the same Niles that taunted her day-in, day-out – and somehow this scared her. She inwardly cursed her heart. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one that made her heart pound, her cheeks flush?
When the song ended, she finally did what she otherwise would have done a lot earlier: she pushed away from him, and made her way over to the bar, ordering another drink, and left Niles behind on the by now almost deserted dance floor. She wanted to drown out all the thoughts that now clouded her mind. Her head had suddenly filled with all kinds of confusing feelings and questions neither of which she wanted to delve into at this point, so she had resorted to the thing she believed would ease – if only momentarily – the aching thoughts forming in her mind.
He stood there, frozen to the spot where she had left him. She had never even so much as turned around; if she had, she would have seen the solemn, puzzled look on his face. Maybe he had assumed there was more to the situation than what met the eye. After all, he himself had had his share of alcoholic drinks that evening. Not quite as many as she had downed, he imagined, but probably more than enough.
He watched her take the drink from the bartender's hand and walk out into the hallway and out of his sight. He set into motion and followed her into the hall, and when he had reached her, he caught her wrist and gently brought her to face him.
Her lips were dewy with whiskey and there way a sadness in her glistening eyes he had no words for. Intuitively, yet unintentionally, his hand slid into hers. Her eyes darted up to meet his and it was almost as if she instinctively knew that he felt the same blurry feelings she felt in her own distraught mind.
She arched her head closer and closer to his, their lips only inches apart. Their lips almost touching, he felt the strong urge to kiss her, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go – but he restricted himself.
"I think we ought to go home", he muttered quietly and broke their drunken stupor.
Stopping her attempts of moving towards him, she retreated. She felt stupid and foolish. All she was able to think about was that they had almost kissed… and that he had broken it off, and she closed her eyes in embarrassment.
"Yes, maybe we should", she said, opening her eyes again and bit her lip.
He stepped away for a moment to gather their coats and to order a cab, and she inhaled and exhaled deeply. She brought her hand up to her face and ran it over her forehead. Maybe it was for the better that nothing had happened. It would certainly save her the heartache of returning to the Sheffield residence, knowing that they had kissed (again), knowing that there was something between them that went beyond their banter, and at the same time knowing that they would never speak of it again, just like it had been several times before. Remembering the drink in her hand she quickly washed what was left down her throat.
As she saw him returning, she put up a bright smile on her face, as if nothing had happened, and let him help her into her coat.
For some reason he felt crushed the moment he noticed the smile on her features. There was no way he could ignore the hurt that he detected in her cerulean depths, the betrayal her eyes seemed to accuse him of. He knew that he had upset her by terminating what would have otherwise ended in an affectionate kiss.
But he did not want that. He knew in his heart that he loved this woman and he wanted more than an, admittedly powerful, sensual, mind-numbing kiss caused by the consumption of too many alcoholic beverages. He wanted for this to be more than a fling. He wanted her, for everything that she was.
They exited the building together and started walking down the street towards the taxi that was waiting for them.
"Let's get you home."
She nodded numbly and cleared her throat from the lump that had formed in it.
They resumed walking towards the taxi in silence, got in and gave directions to the driver.
"Are you okay?", he asked quietly once they were in motion.
"Of course! I'm fine", she answered a bit too cheerfully and they were both aware of the falsity of her words.
Both remained silent as they watched the lights of the city dance on their bodies while they passed them. It was not so much that he did not know what to say, what to tell her, but how to tell her. Every sentence he had tried to form in his mind had become a meaningless, empty phrase the more he thought about it. He rubbed his hands together, his palms tightening around each other, and for the inability of expressing himself, his thoughts remained unspoken.
C.C. felt how drowsiness slowly sneaked into her mind, claimed her body, and she felt her eyelids get heavier and heavier by the minute. She felt exhausted, both emotionally and physically, and was grateful for the peace and calm sleep offered to her.
Her body unconsciously came to rest against Niles'. With her head leaning on his shoulder, Niles snug his arm around her and made an effort to keep still in order not to disturb her quiet doze. When the driver pulled up in front of C.C.'s apartment building he moved away from her as carefully as he was able to, lifted her into his arms and carried her limp body through the entrance hall, quietly greeting the porter, and into the elevator.
C.C., noticing the grip of two hands around her body through the haze of her sleepy state, peeked at the person holding her once and was, in spite of everything that had happened that day, incredibly touched when she saw the face of the butler above her.
He managed to open the door to her apartment somehow and carried her into her bedroom where he laid her down on the soft satin sheets of her bed. He covered her sleeping figure with a blanket, smoothing some of the wrinkles that had formed. For a moment, he remained by her bedside, and just looked at her, admiring how beautiful she was, mourning words that had never been spoken and moments that had never happened. Before he left he placed a kiss on her forehead, took one of her hands in his and whispered: "I'm sorry, Miss Babcock."
There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but again he stumbled over his own racing thoughts.
"Oh Niles, cut it out, you know I loathe you", she mumbled in her slumber and a hint of a grin formed on her lips.
He chuckled at the sounds that were reaching his ears, sounding entirely different from what she had actually been saying. He grinned to himself, suddenly happy beyond either reason or words.
The slurred words, that had reached his ears reverberated in his mind.
"You know I love you."