Court's writing challenge. Write a paragraph for "her eyes met mine". And I got a little long winded. Written through Ranger's POV.

Her eyes met mine.

Every night this week, I'd been here. Sitting in the shadows in that worthless piece of shit chair she kept in the corner of her room, watching over her. I'd sneak in a little after one, tumbling the locks without having to put any effort into it and creep through the apartment, listening outside her door to make sure her breathing was even before even crossing the threshold.

Tonight, it was different. I didn't feel like just sitting here watching her. I wanted to climb in beside her, gather her up in my arms and just hold her. Just to look in her eyes without another man being in them. But it would never happen. Morelli was always going to be in her life. And wanting to be with her was a purely selfish act on my part. It was why I'd kept my distance for over a month and watched her from afar. It was also the reason I'd been sitting here for the past six nights, planning to leave for good but found that I couldn't.

But still, I couldn't stop myself from unfolding myself from the chair and walking over to bed. I sat down on the edge, and brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. Her beautiful curls were a mess, tangled up on the pillow and matted down on her forehead and around her cheeks. Her lips were parted, her eyelashes caressing her porcelain skin. Out of all the women in the world that I'd had, no one had affected me as much as her. No one had crawled underneath my skin the way she had. The sound of her voice could even make my lips twitch in an effort to smile. And I had to give her up.

I didn't have to. I needed to.

And with that, I leaned down and brushed my lips across her forehead. I lingered for longer than necessary, still struggling with the thought of pulling my t-shirt over my head and ditching the shoes and climbing in beside her. But I couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to her in the end. And she's all that matter to me.

"I love you, babe." I leaned away, and traced a finger down her cheek, to her collarbone and down her arm. Her skin was soft, and I could remember what she felt like underneath me, moaning my name, arching her back, the way she felt as she orgasmed. I wanted another night. I had always thought we'd have another one, but it wouldn't be the first time I was wrong.

I looked down one last time, memorizing her face, closing my eyes and seeing her smile, the way her eyes sparkled like two aquamarines in the sunlight. And when I opened mine back up, her eyes met mine.

"Go back to sleep, babe."

She blinked once, slowly, sleepily, and swiped a hand over her hair. "What time is it?"

I smiled and leaned back over her, kissing her on the lips this time, taking her by surprise. "Stephanie, it's not even close to dawn. Go back to sleep. I'll let myself out."

She slid her hand over the blanket, touching my own. Her fingertips brushed between my fingers and interlaced them. "You could sleep. It's what normal people do at night."

I crouched down, brushing her hair from her eyes once again, flashed her the 100 watt grin. "Not where I come from."

"You're bad." She laughed, and it was the best moment of my night. In a night that went terribly wrong with a setup and takedown, I needed it almost as bad as a druggie needs his next fix. She was my fix. Always.

I kissed her again, slow and confidently, this time, sweeping my tongue into her mouth and deepening the kiss. It was her soft moan, the way she pushed into me, her nipples brushing against my chest, her fingers digging into the t-shirt material.

"Stay," she said, quietly. "Just stay the night."

I searched her eyes, looking for some sign of the hesitation she always had, and found none. "What about in the morning?"

"Is it morning yet?"

"No."

"Then shut up and kiss me."