Okay, I have reposted this with corrections on some mistakes that I had noticed after Anonymous01 had pointed them out to me! Thank you for your review Anonymous01! Guess that is a hazard of typing anything of any length, you tend to miss one or two things.

Also just a little thank you to Shakai, for your endless encouragement, and I promise, Ray is in Chapter 3! Love you hunny bunny!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, just borrowing for entertainment value!

Rating: M (Just incase, because i don't know how far my little mind can go, as of yet!)

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Okay, so I know my profile says that I will never attempt a Luby, but i was led in my very comfortable bed this morning, when this came to me! So i thought 'go on Elissa, give it a whirl!' And i have done. It is completely off the top of my head, but i have ideas as to where i will take it. I will carry on, if people like it, so read and review, i would really like to hear what you think! Hope you enjoy!

I wasn't exactly sure when all this started. I wasn't exactly sure when my heart had begun to betray me and flit backwards to remind me of a time long gone. I told myself that what I was feeling had to stop. It wasn't fair on anybody, not me, not him, certainly not him. I told myself that what I was feeling was a delayed reaction to Carter leaving me, breaking up with me in a letter and just not returning.

Luka had asked me then, "How are you doing with that?"

And I had told him, "I'm fine, I'm better than fine."

I had said that and I had meant it, truth be told, I had known Carter and I weren't meant to be lovers. Friends we were good at. Lovers, well, we sucked at that game. However, we had gone along with it, and no matter how bad at it we were we still cared for each other as friends, so it hadn't hurt any less when he had gone. Then he had come back, and I had found out Luka had died, and my heart had leaped into my throat when I had been told the news. I was, I had told myself, mourning the loss of a very close friend. Carter left again, and he sent a letter back along with a very sick Luka, and a very sick Luka's new girlfriend. I had been fine though, I had moved on, and I was changing my life, and for the first time in a long time, I was doing well, all by myself.

Then Carter had come back, with a pregnant girlfriend no less, and admittedly, yes, I was hurt and jealous, but this wasn't a set back I was going to let spoil my new found happiness. Luka and I were good friends by this time, and I enjoyed that. He was happy with Sam, and I was able to form friendships with both him, and Carter, and this I thought, was a turning point in my life.

When Carter left for good, the final time, I was happy for him. Happy that he had found someone he loved so much, he would change his life for her. I was sad he was leaving; only because I would miss one of the best friends I had ever had, and that was a sad loss for me, but he was happy, and that made me smile.

Luka and I were still good friends, except I felt nervous around him. If we worked together and his arm accidentally brushed against mine, I would feel giddy and light headed. If he smiled at me, which he did on countless occasions, I would go weak at the knees. This, I told myself was fucking stupid. I said over and over, 'get a grip, get a grip.' But I didn't and it carried on like this.

He has broken up with Sam, I found him in a bar tonight, drunk. All I could do was be there for him, as a friend - that was all he needed. I found myself thinking, I need to be around him, I need to feel him near me. It was killing me, because it wasn't a clever thing. Not clever at all.

Luka and I we're just friends. All we were ever supposed to be was friends. I had hurt him last time we were involved, and he had certainly hurt me. We were great when it came to getting home and going to bed, and I had loved the pointless chatter that came with going to and from work with him, but when it came down to the important things, like communicating our fears, and our issues, we couldn't do it. We pushed each other away, and we did whatever we could to keep a safe distance, no matter the hurt we caused.

Okay, so we had become friends, and with that communications had improved, in fact he had turned to me, as I had to him several times since our break up, but that, common sense had tried to tell me, didn't warrant starting up a relationship again. For all I knew, we could both become closed off shells again, just climbing in and out of bed with one another, seeking comfort in each others bodies, then leaving so much unsaid. I couldn't do that to him again, and I couldn't do it to myself. I was stronger now.

But here I am, led against him on his sofa, his breath on the side of my face, and because it's him, and because I am near him, I can even stand the stench of booze. I curse myself because this is the most dangerous and stupid thing I have ever done, yet I don't move, because I cannot bear to not be next to him, listening to his breathing.

I had given him a lift home, in his car no less, he was too drunk to drive. I would get a cab home once he was safely in I had said. I hadn't though had I?

We got back to his place and he had let me in, he went straight over to the sofa and plopped himself down. I looked around his apartment, taking in the apparent chaos, of his newly reinstated bachelorhood. I took that moment to make some stupid comment about how he should consider getting a maid, but there was no response. He had fallen asleep.

There! Right there! That is where any sane person would leave. That is where I should have left, shutting his door quietly behind me. But I don't. I can't. So instead, I slide of my jacket and place it carefully on a chair. I do consider then what I am doing here. I crouch in front of him, and move the hair out of his face, careful not to wake him. Then my stupid brain makes up its on mind on what it's doing here and I slowly move to slide onto the couch next to him. I lean my head against his chest and move his arm so that it lies across my shoulders. I move my right hand up to his left shoulder and hold his neck, shuffling to get as close as is humanly possible, considering the circumstances. And that's it. That is what I am doing here. Trying to be held by a man, who has no idea. Trying to be held by a man, who in the morning will think I'm crazy; a man who will probably never want to see me again once he wakes, and realises what is going on. But I don't care about in the morning. If just for tonight, I can feel this safe, then I don't care.