The Only Exception.
(For all the Frieda/Penny fans! I own nadda. I'm just playing. If you wanna employ me to write though do itttt ;) )
I open the door to my flat and my heart pounds when I see her. It pounds and it shatters as my eyes take in the sight of the normally vibrant redhead pale and broken, her porcelain skin wet with the tears that glisten behind her beautiful brown eyes. She's shaking. She's trembling so hard that she keeps clasping her hands tightly together to try and regain some semblance of calm. It doesn't work though and as hard as she fights against it emotion ultimately overcomes her, and she breaks down, falling to her knees and succumbing to the sobs that had been silently shaking her body.
She looks so small and fragile in those scrubs. She's lost some weight. Even in the few days which have passed since Lindens death she's become a shadow of who she was before but then I suppose seeing someone die does that to you. She was in a terrible state after she found him; she was shaking and barely able to hold herself together but she refused to go home. She wouldn't leave the hospital because she didn't want to let anybody down. I admire that so much about her; that she would put other people first like that even when she is suffering so deeply, but then I curse that about her too because it's what has made her like this. She hasn't dealt with it. She's taken on too much and pushed herself too hard to carry on...to forget what she saw...something awful for anyone to see let alone someone as sensitive and quietly vulnerable as her. Now she's haunted and broken and it pains me to see our beautiful English rose so fragile and distressed.
I kneel down in front of her and take her into my arms, rubbing her back in circular motions and whispering what I hope are soothing words into her ear as she cries. Her sobs are so pained and so full of sorrow that they are heart wrenching to listen to. How someone so beautiful...so perfect can produce such a haunting sound is unimaginable to me and it only makes me hold her tighter and vow that I will never desert her again.
She buries her face in my shoulder and I find myself kissing the top of her unkempt hair. I don't know why I do it but I can't help myself. She's in pain and she needs me and as she grips hold of my sweatshirt tightly in her fingers I know just how much that is true. It is at that moment that I realise that because of her brothers foolishness and indeed my own I have neglected to be there for her when she has needed me the most. I was just so angry with her. She knew that I liked Ollie and she scared him off; she took away something that I thought would make me happy but as she sobs in my arms I can't help but think that maybe it was a blessing. Maybe she did it for a different reason than I originally thought she had. Maybe she knew that deep down that Ollie wasn't the Valentine I wanted and she was trying to protect both me and her from being hurt. She is the woman that I care about more than anything. The woman that my heart has been aching for ever since I went back to nights, leaving her alone to break down like this...to suffer. I've never wanted a woman before. I've never even been tempted but with her...there's no one that I want to protect more.
I run my fingertips over the porcelain skin of her cheeks as she cries, trying to calm her, trying to make her realise that I am sorry. So very sorry for leaving her to cope alone. I whisper those words into her ear over and over again but I fear that nothing I say is being heard because she is so lost in the tiredness and pain that have today come to a head and threatened to tear her apart. I then whisper 'I love you. Please do not cry' cursing myself immediately that those words have passed my lips unintended, just wanting something to reach her, something to give her hope when she feels like there is none, something to reassure her that she has come to be where she belongs to seek comfort...to feel as though she matters on a day that she has heroically and thanklessly been trying to cope with everything all alone.
The sobbing stops and a cold hand cups my cheek, forcing me to look up into tearful brown eyes.
'You love me?' She whispers and I fight against her to look at the floor.
I just can't find the words to respond to her. What I've told her is true. It's something that I've been trying to come to terms with for a while now and this absence from her has only reinforced everything that I believed I was coming to feel for her. Of course I love her. Who wouldn't? She is beautiful and intelligent and in my eyes perfect. If she gave me a chance I would love her for the rest of our days.
'Do you?' she asks again, and I look back up into those sparkling brown pools and feel a blush rising in my cheeks as her fingertips caress my skin.
'You know I do.' I reply quietly, gauging her pale face for any kind of reaction. 'Why else would you have come here? Why else would I be the one you seek for comfort?'
'Because I love you too." She replies honestly, our lips meeting as we share the first of many gentle kisses
We pull away from each other and I smile as she strokes my cheek with the back of her fingertips, a smile of her own forming on her beautiful lips. I lead her into my flat, her body still trembling from tiredness and emotion, my body too trembling from the nervousness of us both having newly declared our love. I then lead her into my bedroom, pulling back the covers and pushing her gently down onto the bed. I kiss her again, a little bit more passionately this time and crawl on to the covers beside her, taking her into my arms and carefully pulling the duvet up over her. I then trace patterns on the exposed skin of her arms until she closes her eyes and falls into her first peaceful sleep in days; the hint of a smile still on her lips as I kiss her eyelids and nose.
I love this woman with all of my heart and I am both shocked and ecstatic that she found her way here while so vulnerable and in so much pain, to seek comfort from the woman with whom she is in love. It is in this moment that I realise I am glad that Oliver Valentine walked away from our 'date' for there is nothing worse than living a lie and for me there would be nothing worse than losing the angel sleeping calmly and soundly in my protective arms.
The End.
