My Perfect Storm

by Cantica10

A storm coupled with a fever could reveal what desires lie in the depths of Allie's heart.

I do not own any of the characters. I also don't own some of the dialogue used in this story. They are borrowed from Nicholas Sparks's story and the movie adaptation of the book… though much more movie than book. :)

Hello, everyone! So, my best friend got sick with pneumonia of all things (no idea how he managed that!), and I offered to write him a story for the occasion… first he asked if I would write one for Pearl Harbor, but I've actually never seen that movie, so we decided on The Notebook instead. He asked for rain and romance… what a better movie, huh? I love Allie and Noah's incredible, passionate story… hopefully I can bring that forth! I warped the storyline just a little bit, changing certain aspects for my own satisfaction, but I should hope that it will be mostly coherent and the editions tolerable.

So… it's really long, obviously. I hope you go for it. Also… this is the first lemon I've ever written. I was blushing furiously all the while, but I hope the finished product is acceptable.

Anyway, jkensington16, this one's for you. Enjoy!

Description: A storm coupled with a fever could reveal what desires lie in the depths of Allie's heart.

"My Perfect Storm"

Seven years. It had been seven years since I had seen Seabrook in all its splendor, the small ocean city that harbored so many memories that my heart already ached to just look out the window from my hotel room in the town's only inn. Images of a summer seven years ago assaulted me with such intensity that tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, and I desperately wipe them away. Oh, god, that summer! Seventeen years old and only a child... but I had been alive that summer, more alive than I've ever been since.

I had left so much behind to come here, dropping everything for this impromptu vacation. Lon's proposal had shaken me, and although I wore his ring on my finger I still had offered him no definite answer as to whether or not I wanted to accept. Marrying Lon… it was what I had dreamed of as a little girl; a rich, handsome husband who would cherish me and love me, who fit in with my friends and who my parents approved of… but every moment I spent with him, there was always the lingering memory of another man, one who I had given my heart to so long ago. And I had never taken it back.

Noah Calhoun… to even think his name made me shudder, and I wrapped my arms around myself and sighed, turning away from the window. One summer. A single summer had been all it took to fall madly and passionately in love with him… his every touch had sent shivers tingling up and down my spine and every kiss had set the world to exploding around us in a whirlwind of marvelous colors, and nothing had mattered but us. And we fought… all the time, because we were so different. A country boy and a city girl, an heiress – two people couldn't have been more perfectly mismatched. But somehow, we had made it work. Whenever we fought, I always envisioned my high school science teacher lecturing my class about electric charges, about how opposite charges were attracted to each other. And that's how I saw me and Noah: complete opposites; but when we were brought together, only an immense force could tear us apart.

I had seen his picture in the paper a week ago, in front of the house where I had nearly lost my virginity to him, although the mansion was entirely different after his four yearlong endeavors at remodeling the plantation house. It had looked so beautiful, just like a home taken from a storybook. I wondered if he still remembered those promises he made when it was still a decrepit old building, foolish vows made to a young love about a studio overlooking the river and a porch that extended about the house's perimeter…

In the past seven years I had forgotten how to listen to my heart. It had started the very day I had left this place seven years ago. I knew I didn't want to leave, and my heart had pleaded with me to do anything and everything in my power to stay… but I had stifled the desperate musings of my heart and followed my duty as a daughter and a student instead. My heart had begged me to refuse Lon's every gesture at courting, but once again I had ignored it. Lon was everything I was supposed to want, and I couldn't understand why I didn't. But he was what my parents wanted and, well, I was an obedient child. But his marriage proposal… he had taken my smile as a yes, and had never looked past the confusion in my eyes as he leapt onto the stage and announced our engagement to the entire restaurant. What was I supposed to have done? Crushed his soul by refusing him in front of that crowd? My heart told me to, but I had ignored it just as I had done so many times before.

And now, seven years too late, I was finally following the path my heart laid out for me. My every cell had been tingling with a desire to return to Seabrook, and for once, I had listened to intuition and followed my heart. But now that I was here, I was shying away from it again, because it was going to lead me exactly where I shouldn't go – back to him. Noah…

I forced the thoughts from my head before they could even begin to gather coherency. I was not here to see Noah, I reminded myself fiercely. I was here to clear my head and reflect on what I was going to do next. The answer seemed so simple, but my heart twisted and ached whenever I considered such an obvious choice. Marry Lon, sense screamed at me. He's wealthy and handsome, and he will give you security throughout your life and handsome, angel-faced children in a beautiful house… You'll be the envy of every girl in the city, married to such a man.

That was what I wanted to want…

I looked to my bags, unopened next to the armchair in the corner, and the paint set and canvasses I had fished from the storage shed on my parent's estate. Such a long forgotten talent, one I had dropped after the summer here in Seabrook. Painting meant so little when I was uninspired, and soon my passion had faded to nothing along with my spirit. Even Lon and his love could not rekindle that spark within me that had always urged me to go to my artwork like seeing Noah had. And not even him, his picture. That said so much to me, and I was terrified to listen to exactly what it was that was spoken in such a desire.

I was supposed to call Lon, I remembered when glancing at the phone on the bedside table. He had bid me goodbye with a tender kiss and a request to let him know I had reached Seabrook safely, but somehow the prospect of talking to him made me very uneasy, so I instead turned away from the phone and looked towards the door. I didn't suppose I could stay locked in my hotel room forever. I was here for just a few days, after all, and there was inspiration to be found. My fingers were twitching already, eager to feel a paintbrush nestled in their hold once more, and all I needed was an image in my head to satisfy such yearning.

I huffed discontentment with myself for already wasting an hour in this tiny room, and barely pausing to snatch up a thin jacket, I left the room and maneuvered down the two flights of stairs that took me to the lobby and then outside. At once, I felt lost. Seven years can change a place drastically, and it seemed that everything that should have been familiar only vaguely made an impact on my memory.

I decided against taking my car out, choosing to walk in hopes that memories would spark more vibrantly in my mind's eye during my trek. To be without a destination was strange and disconcerting… but also liberating. I had nowhere pressing to be and no one to impress, and as I idly wandered the streets, passing window displays that were a wonderful contrast to the elaborate set ups in city stores, it seemed as though with every step my hazy mind cleared. Perhaps the key to deciding my next turning point was not dwelling upon the choices laid before me; it was clearing my head enough to know what I wanted so there was as little pain as possible attached to my decision.

I stopped for supper at a diner that had not existed when I had been here seven years ago, flipping languidly through a book and sipping at coffee while I waited for my food to arrive, barely absorbing any of the story. It was a mystery novel, a genre I had never enjoyed… but when horror stories sent me into month long nightmares and romance novels tore me in half with barely a glance, what other options did I have? Even poetry was ruined for me. Whenever I saw a work by Walt Whitman I wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

I sighed in frustration and flipped the story back about twenty pages, not having absorbed a word since I sat down, and that's when the voice came. It was tentative and unsure, and yet it still ignited the spark that I had been pursuing immediately into an inferno. "Allie?"

I looked up with a sharp gasp, losing my spot as the pages of my book fluttered closed, and I gazed into the face that had been in my dreams for years. "Noah," I replied in whispered syllables.

"It is you." His blue eyes were shining just as I remembered them. He looked different; but then, so did I. Growing up can do that to a person. His picture, of course, had forewarned me of how his appearance had changed in seven years, but seeing him in person had a drastically different effect. He had a beard, which I found slightly amusing, when the shock of seeing him gave me opportunity to be amused. He had never seemed like one to grow a beard. My chest ached just to see him. He was staring at me in awe, a look that humbled me and made the blood rush to my cheeks in a blush. His voice had barely any tone, it was so breathless. "I saw you in the window, but I thought for sure I was just imagining it was you…"

"Noah," I said again. It was the only word that seemed to make any sense. "You're… you're here." I was sure my eyes were wide as I stared at him, but I couldn't help it. My gaze raked over his every feature desperately, trying to make up for seven years without a look at him, and preparing myself for a future without such looks at the same time.

"How are you?" he asked. His eyes were glowing the way I remembered. God, I wanted to lose myself in them!

I opened my mouth to reply, but my answer had fled along with my rationale sometime when I had been staring at him, so the best I could manage was a breathy, "Fine… you?"

"Much better now," he said, and I watched his cheeks turn slightly pink. Perhaps that wasn't the answer he had intended to give. To bear his adoration that existed even after all these years made my heart yearn for him further.

He stood there returning my gaze for a long moment in silence, and I was almost sure we would stay there suspended for the rest of our lives before he broke the spell, gesturing to the empty side of the booth and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. I only nodded, losing my ability to speak with every passing moment, and he slid into the seat.

"What are you doing here?" he asked slowly, as though he had been struggling to find a topic of conversation. At least we were broaching a subject unrelated to our summer together. I couldn't handle that conversation at the moment, but it seemed it would be inevitable now that he was here, sitting across from me. In a booth at a diner! It was practically material for a romance novel… and not a good one at that.

It took me a long moment to formulate a reply, and I took a long, unnecessary sip of coffee to stall for time as I tried to collect my thoughts. Coherency had fled me with a single look into his blue eyes, and I was merely grasping at the scant remains of sense to speak. "I suppose you could say I'm on vacation," I said, happy to hear my voice was not as weak as I had been sure it would sound. "I just needed to… get away for a while. To paint."

Noah smiled at the mention of my abandoned talent, and I almost melted into a puddle where I sat. No, no, no! This was wrong! I wasn't supposed to love him anymore. I was engaged, wasn't I?! I'm not ignorant enough to think old flames shouldn't stir up lingering feelings of passion, but I do know it shouldn't be to this extent… and my own heart terrified me because of it. "You're still painting, then?"

But I shook my head, perhaps a little too quickly. "I stopped… for a while," I admitted quietly, unwilling to delve into the reasons behind such a desertion. I wouldn't say a word, even if he asked! I wasn't supposed to have any true feelings for him anymore, and it was bad enough that I did without letting him know I quit my passion because of him… because I had no passion without him. "My life hasn't allowed much time for painting." It was a pathetic half-lie, but it was an explanation nonetheless. I could have made time, if I had wanted to. "What about you?" I bid, hoping to guide the conversation away from me. "I mean… what's going on with your life? I saw your picture with the house…" I trailed off. That topic veered too close to that summer.

"I finished it," he stated briefly, and a glimmer of pain passed over his eyes, so subtle that someone who didn't know him nearly as well as I did would have missed it. Maybe he hadn't changed as much as I'd thought. "Thought about selling it for a while."

"Why?"

He shook his head, a defeated grin on his lips. "Stupid reasons… but after I finished it, well…" he glanced up at me, and I knew he wanted every word he spoke to impact my soul and punish me for my childish and inconstant heart seven years ago. "It didn't seem worth it anymore."Without you, he meant. And I understood that at least. Painting hadn't meant a thing without him…

My waitress returned mercifully at that moment, offering a brief distraction from Noah's and my awkward conversation, but when she was gone the silence stretched once more between us and left us with little ability to do anything but stare at each other. I didn't want to move, even though a plate of food was sitting before me and I hadn't eaten anything all day, so desperate to reach Seabrook that I had skipped breakfast and lunch both in my haste.

After a few moments, Noah finally sighed raggedly and stood up. "It was… wonderful to see you, Allie," he said lowly, his voice heavy with the weight behind the words. He was as good as telling me he still loved me… and I couldn't say I didn't return the feelings.

"You too, Noah," I whispered, feigning a sudden intense interest with opening a new packet of sugar for my coffee so I wouldn't have to look at him. I had been so desperate to brand the sight of him into my memory not five minutes ago, and now… looking at him was too painful.

I could still feel his eyes on me, and I almost expected him to say something more, but at long last I heard his final mumbled goodbye and watched his reflection in the window as he turned away from my table and left.

I let out a long, shuddery breath of air that I'd been holding in my lungs for only God knows how long, furious with myself, with him. We weren't supposed to have anything to do with each other anymore! Why couldn't he have just let me alone? Why had he sought me out? And why couldn't I have given him more than just a few reserved words? What was wrong with me? After all that we'd been through together, even if it was seven years ago, I owed him so much more than that.

Wiping angry tears from my eyes, I dumped my sugar packet into my coffee and reached for a French fry on my plate. How long had it been since I'd had unrefined food? Too long. Most in the rich society wouldn't dream of indulging in this, a hamburger and French fries; but since when had I followed propriety?

"Allie!" His voice called out to me so abrupt and unexpected that I jolted and the fry fell out of my fingers with my start. I whirled around in my seat and looked towards the door, where Noah stood with a renewed expression of eagerness on his face. That one look made an almost foreign sense of anticipation rise in my chest and spread throughout my limbs. Grinning at me, he called, "I want to show you something!"

"Now?" I asked in disbelief. I knew I would go anywhere with him whenever if he only asked, but my thoughts still went fleetingly to my plate of food and the pangs of hunger in my belly.

But Noah shook his head. "Not now. Tomorrow… come to the Windsor manor tomorrow morning. I want to take you somewhere. Do you remember where that is?"

A smile inadvertently spread across my lips, and I didn't attempt to stifle it. "Of course I remember," I replied, feeling life spreading throughout me just to see him so excited. How long had it been since I had felt anything at all?

"You promise to be there?" he pressed. I suppose I didn't blame him for having doubts about my authenticity, not when I had effectively managed to break both of our hearts once before.

"I promise," I vowed earnestly, drawing my finger in an x over my chest and smiling coyly at him. "Cross my heart."

He let out a long breath, as though he had expected me to recant my agreement. As if I could! "Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay!" he beamed at me a final time, and as our eyes met my cheeks turned red, and he winked at me and left. My heart felt ready to explode as I turned around and rested my elbows on the table, holding my head and pushing my auburn hair out of my face so it wouldn't hang in my food. Oh, my god. What had I just done? My heart was pounding and I was short of breath. I was so… ecstatic. It was as though in that one moment, I was remembering what true emotions felt like to experience.

I had been in a state of apathy for seven years, the most pitiable of all human emotions, and I had seen no viable way out of such a state. To not care about anything at all makes a person dull and lifeless… I had missed being alive. But when society held little interest for me, what else was there to do but distance myself from the world? Hollow laughs and dead smiles had been my reality for seven years, and now to feel a genuine grin spreading across my lips and a shudder of anticipation running down my spine, it was as though my body was reveling in the return of sensations long forgotten.

---

Waking up the next morning having something to look forward to was more wonderful than I could have imagined. It felt like a resurrection. It had been all too difficult getting out of bed in the past several years, with nothing but the mundane predictability of my existence to look forward to. I suppose that it had been easier rising when I was working as a nurse in the war, because I meant something to all those soldiers… but after that job was done, getting up returned to being just as difficult. And Lon's courtship had made me excited for a while, but I supposed I'd liked the idea of falling in love with him and forgetting everything about my past so much that I had forced myself into an act, though brilliant, of actually loving him… and now look where that had gotten me. I had run away from my life barely a week after my engagement, I had seen my fiancée but once since he'd proposed, and I was about to ready myself for a day with a man who makes me feel so much that the world explodes into color around me when I'm with him… and that man is not the man I'm supposed to marry.

I kicked the sheets off my body and swung my legs over the side of my bed, the smile on my lips omnipresent, lingering from the dreams I'd had. Good dreams, for once. Such wonderful illusions painted behind my eyelids in sleep had eluded me for so long I had almost forgotten what it felt like to witness them. I couldn't quite remember the dreams, but when I tried my memory brought forth scant glimmers of blue eyes…

It was wrong to be so excited to be meeting a man when I was betrothed to another, but I abandoned propriety and allowed the sensations of eagerness and curiosity to overwhelm me. Surprises always drove me half-mad with wondering; I never liked to be kept in the dark about anything. What did he want to show me? Something wonderful, I was sure. Everything Noah had ever shown me was wonderful, from our first date to the last night at the Windsor plantation house. That night when everything had changed…

I had never given so much consideration over clothing before. What to wear? I had no guidelines, and no matter what, practical or more elegant attire, I wanted to be dazzling. Noah had always complimented me on my appearance… I only wanted to impress him, to bring compliments I had yearned to hear for so long to his lips. And I had kind words for him as well, if I didn't get so tongue-tied I wouldn't be able to speak. I could always articulate; I was never lost for words… except for when I was in his presence. Words failed me with a mere look.

I chose flat shoes and a simple blue dress. Practical and simple, but form-fitting, displaying my curves… perhaps it was still too much, but I couldn't imagine hiding beneath layers in front of Noah. Seven years ago I had allowed him an undeterred glimpse beneath any fabric whatsoever. It seemed pointless to bundle myself in clothing when I considered that particular intimacy.

My smile faltered as my eye caught the phone on the bedside table, recalling my conversation the previous evening with my fiancée. The receptionist at the inn's front desk had informed me upon my return from dinner that my soon to be husband had been telephoning desperately for the better half of an hour before my arrival, looking for me, and I had apologized and gone reluctantly to phone him as I should have done two hours earlier.

Lon seemed genuinely worried about me, but his voice was tight with something else, and I had to wonder if my parents hadn't told him about my past with Seabrook. He did seem awfully eager to capture my attention with reminders that he loved me and our wedding preparations would begin soon. But rather than feeling anxious and excited for such arrangements, I felt only sick.

The image of walking down the aisle in a snowy white dress, a chaste virgin bride, was strangely unappealing. Virgin, yes. Chaste, no. If it were up to me, my virginity would have gone to Noah seven years ago. Pity I had freaked out… pity that we had been interrupted. Fin, a friend I hadn't had any contact with in years, had come barging in with warnings of the police and my parents. I couldn't remember ever having been more furious than I was that night. My parents always seemed to ruin everything.

I skipped breakfast; not because I wasn't hungry, but because I was far too eager for food. My stomach felt a little at odds from nerves, and I didn't want to risk it. My fingers were shaking as I started my car and pulled out onto the streets of Seabrook. They were much less crowded than those in the city; so many people preferred walking to driving. Another stark contrast to the life I was accustomed to, and I found with every passing minute that I liked it here more and more.

The Windsor manor was far more magnificent in person than any picture could have portrayed it, and I marveled over it at first glance and nearly ran into the wooden fence in my enthrallment, almost unable to tear my gaze away. I halted the car abruptly in the gravel driveway, humiliated by my inattentiveness; Noah's fence had nearly suffered because of it. My only compensation was that no one had witnessed such a mishap – or so I thought.

Noah was at my car door before I had even looked towards my window, startling me to realize I was suddenly in his presence. He grinned to see me jolt and opened my door for me, still smiling affectionately as I climbed out with pink tingeing my cheeks in a blush. "You've gotten better," he noted amusedly, those blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Better at what?" I demanded, adopting an air of arrogance to shroud my humiliation.

"Driving. Seven years ago that fence would have been history… probably my mailbox, too," he chuckled. I blushed deeper at his joking speculations. I hadn't realized he'd seen me nearly run into the mailbox as well.

"Are you going to tell me what I'm doing here?" I asked impatiently, a desperate bid to steer the topic of conversation away from my abysmal driving. What really got me was that I was a good driver… he just made my nerves stand on end, and one could hardly pay attention to braking when such a majestic house was in their line of view.

Noah shut my car door, his gaze never leaving me. Perhaps it was as though he thought I was a hallucinationconjured by his imagination, and that tearing his eyes off me for even an instant would make me vanish. "Come on." He grabbed my wrist without any hesitation, and I was shocked. So many trepidations plagued my body and mind, and here he was touching me with little thought to our shared history. It made me feel so… hopeful. But I wasn't allowed to hope, was I? There was nothing between us; or at least, I couldn't allow there to be anything between us. The ring weighing heavily on my finger was proof of that.

"Where are we going?" I inquired, curiosity bubbling in my chest with every step we took. He was steering me away from the house, out towards the lake. Were we to go swimming? I hadn't come remotely prepared.

"If I told you, it would ruin the surprise," he informed me sternly, though his tone was light. He knew I hated being kept in suspense – and yet he did it anyway. Such a characteristic had been the source of past arguments, and yet now I found it strangely endearing. Lon wasn't good with surprises. I was amazed he'd kept quiet about his plans to propose to me… or at the very least, managed to keep such information from me.

I shut my mouth and merely watched him as he led me down the path to the pier. There were slight crinkles in the corners of his eyes that had never been there before… not imperfections created by an abundance of happy expressions. No, those… those came from expressions of defeat and anguish. His eyes still held remnants of such feelings in their depths, past the excitement displayed in their blue depths. What had I done to this man? Dear god, what had I done?

We came to a halt at the end of the pier, and Noah released my wrist and gestured grandly to the small painted white boat drifting near the wooden structure, bobbing with each ripple of a wave. "Here we are."

"A boat ride," I smiled, my memory offering me images of seven years ago, when we had spent many days rowing out to the center of the lake and jumping in, dressed for swimming or otherwise… kissing passionately as we floated, our legs knocking together as they treaded water to keep our bodies adrift. I hadn't done anything that reckless in a long time. But Noah had made me brave. In particular, I remembered the rope you could swing on, letting go and plummeting, weightless for just an instant, into the water. I had protested, but Noah's urgings had stirred some dormant sense of bravado within me, and I had taken the leap of faith… and it had been so much fun. Fun… it was nice to remember fun.

Noah took my hand and helped me to keep my balance as I lowered myself into the boat. The craft rocked and swayed with the displacement my weight brought upon, and it took me a moment to adjust to the volatility of the surface beneath my feet. It had been years since I'd been on a boat, and my own instability only made me more amazed to watch Noah expertly untie the boat and leap into it before it could drift away from the pier, effortlessly regaining his balance and lowering himself onto one of the wooden seats with a grace I was certain I had not barely attained.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, watching as he picked up the oars and steered us into the lake, the pier growing more distant with each deft stroke of wooden blades slicing through water.

"Somewhere grand," was his only reply.

I sighed and settled into the seat, watching the water ripple and trying to catch sight of our reflections when I wasn't watching minnows darting just below the lake's surface. Noah was plainly adamant about keeping our destination to himself, and although it was driving me mad not knowing, it was also rather exciting.

Noah's voice pulled me from my silent musings, asking a question that I cringed to hear. The words, his dark tone… everything about it pierced me like an arrow. "Who's the lucky guy you're going to marry?"

He had finally taken notice of my ring, then. I had considered taking it off this morning, but another lie had seemed both sin and crime, so I'd left it alone. And now… that simple ornament betrayed my misdemeanor against my fiancée. Alone with another man… what an audacious hoyden I was. I looked down at that thin silver band, the diamond sparkling atop it, and rubbed the jewel with the pad of my thumb, hiding it from Noah's regard. "His name is Lon Hammond, Jr."

"Hammond? As in Hammond Cotton?" Noah asked, masking disbelief with sardonic amusement.

"As in Hammond Cotton," I confirmed, shifting on my wooden seat uncomfortably. Why didn't I want to talk about Lon? I should want to talk about my fiancé… shouldn't I?

"Well, your parents must love him," Noah assumed with unguarded, bitter jealousy. It stung me to hear such a tone to his voice.

"He's a really good man, Noah," I heard myself saying. I was trying to defend myself from him, I supposed… trying to convince myself as much as him. And Lon was a good man; I knew that. My concern was with him being the right man. "You'd really like him." Yeah, right. What a lie… Noah and Lon were almost nothing alike. Aside from the fact they both loved me. Oh, why did I have to break someone's heart? That was the only outcome in this situation. And I knew Noah's heart was the heart I should break… but I didn't want to do that. In fact, that was the last thing I wanted to do.

I knew Noah saw straight through me from his next question. "Do you love him?"

I slipped the engagement ring off my finger and held it up, watching it sparkle in the sunlight. It was such a pretty thing… but everything that came attached to it seemed so wrong to my mind. "Yes…" The word was little more than a whisper, and I sighed in frustration, because I knew I couldn't confirm it out loud. "I don't know," I admitted softly. Refusing to look up at Noah, I added. "When he asked me to marry him… I didn't exactly say yes… but I suppose I didn't say no, either."

That blue gaze was upon me; I didn't have to see it to know. "Why not?"

But I only shook my head and looked out towards the opposite shore, rolling lazily by. How could I tell him that it was because my heart remained with him? No… I was here merely for closure, wasn't I? Nothing could come from this. And yet I found myself drawn more and more to him with every moment spent in his presence.

A large portion of our boat ride was spent in silence, save for the sound of water lapping against the side of the boat. I rested my elbow on the boat's side and my cheek in my palm, closing my eyes and allowing the moment to swallow me. I heard the soothing sound of water, heard birds calling with shrill yet strangely beautiful cries… felt the tiniest drops of moisture strike my skin with the strokes of the oars, felt the faintest breeze on my face, making my hair flutter. The air smelled fresh, unlike the air in the city. Taking deep breaths was calming rather than suffocating. I imagined that Heaven would feel like this… serene and aesthetic, allowing every worry to fade into memory… at least for a little while.

"Allie? Allie, open your eyes," Noah called to me, cutting through my state of half-awareness. I lifted my head and let my eyes flutter open, unsure of what to expect. I took in the scene around me and gasped within a second.

Noah was guiding the boat through a section of the lake interrupted by tall and thin moss covered trees. Algae interrupted the surface of the lake, floating among lily pads with lotus flowers… and everywhere around us were swans. Their long, elegant necks were too easily identifiable, and while I had seen many pictures, I had never seen a swan personally. And now they were everywhere… arching their necks like incomplete halves of shapes that longed to be entire hearts, flapping their wings and stirring the water, yet never taking flight.

"Noah…" I breathed as though my voice would startle them all away. "What is this?"

Noah pulled the oars into the boat and let us drift, grinning to regard my expression of delight. "What do you think?"

"It's like a dream." My voice was soft still, watching as the paths of two swans lined up exactly right so I could see the lopsided heart their necks outlined. I smiled to behold it.

"Do you want to feed them?" His question seemed so out of place, and yet at the same time it was perfect… drawing my attention enough away from him, but still reminding me he had given this to me.

I could only smile and nod at him as I tried to come up with an intelligent answer, but words failed me. "Yeah."

Noah's grin matched mine, but his eyes were far brighter than I had ever seen them before. He pulled a white bundle from behind his seat and passed it to me, never taking his eyes off me. I took the bundle and turned around, unwrapping it to reveal a few slices of bread. Tearing off small chunks, I tossed them into the water, delighting to see the swans swim closer and closer to the boat as they feasted. "What are they all doing here?" I asked, turning around to flash another grin at Noah.

He smiled and shook his head with a slight shrug of apology. "I don't know. They're supposed to migrate south, but…" he trailed off and for the first time his eyes wandered away from me, following the languid path of a swan as it glided through the water.

"They don't stay here?" I asked, somehow disappointed. Beauty was always inconstant, I supposed… and that made me sad.

"No." His eyes found mine again. "They'll go back where they came from."

Oh, god… of course. Me. He wasn't talking about swans. This had never been about the swans. Oh, lord, this was all so beautiful, but it was fleeting… and I was doing the same thing to Noah. Leaving him… going back to where I came from. But when I left, I knew I would not return, unlike the swans. I nodded slowly, tossing the last few chunks of bread into the water and turned back to meet his gaze. Seven years ago he wouldn't have tortured me like this. In so many ways he was the same, but… "You're different," I informed him with a forced smile.

He tilted his head inquisitively. "What do you mean?"

I shook my head and watched him turn away as I replied, "Just the way you look… everything." Maybe that was a partial lie. Everything wasn't different… but there was plenty I didn't find familiar in him.

He chuckled and turned back to me. Perhaps he didn't like his gaze to wander off me for too long. "You look different, too. But… in a good way."

I shook my head and laughed softly, staring down at my lap and my engagement ring. I didn't want it on my finger. I didn't want it at all. And yet I had no intention of removing it. Why was that? Was I scared again?

Yes. Scared to death of what this could be if I let it consume me. And I wanted to…

"But you're kind of the same, though." The words slipped past my lips before I registered that I had even decided to speak, but I didn't regret them. It was a reminder of what we had once been… how close we were that summer so long ago. I didn't want him to forget that… I didn't want to forget.

"Yeah?" Noah dipped the oars back into the water again.

"Yeah." I held his gaze, wondering if he wasn't rowing yet because he wanted his full attention on me. "And you really did it," I said quietly.

"What?"

"Everything. The house… it's beautiful, what you did."

A flicker of sorrow crossed his eyes for an instant, and he looked away as it passed. But when he next spoke, he held my eye. "Well, I promised you I would."

---

Weighty subjects such as that were not approached for the duration of the rest of the day. We spoke of people we had known as teenagers here in Seabrook and what we had done with our lives. Noah and Fin had gone into the army. I hadn't known that. And worse yet, Fin had died serving. He was a good man… a good friend. News of his death tore a small hole in my heart, but that tear ripped into a gash when I learned about the death of Noah's father. That old man had always welcomed me with open arms, praised my talents like I was his own child… pushed my boundaries and thrown me into situations I would never have entered on my own. Swing dancing! He'd taught me swing dancing! No young refined lady of old southern money had ever known to swing dance. It was all waltzes and fox trots before that…

I cried silent tears for my lost friends as I recounted the events of my life. Finished school with little thought of pursuing a career, about to marry a man I'd met volunteering as a red cross nurse in college. I left out the part about not wanting to marry him at all… it was bad enough already that I'd told Noah I was unsure about the engagement.

We had a late lunch on a tiny island near the lake's center, a simple meal of sloppily thrown together sandwiches and bottles of lemonade, barely speaking as we ate and watching the world, simply allowing time to pass. Silence with Noah wasn't uncomfortable. There uses to be a time when I had to fill every quiet moment with idle chatter, but now I only concentrated on cherishing what few moments I would have left with Noah before I would be forced to give him a final goodbye and return to my world… and my fiancée.

I sighed and laid down, staring up at the blue sky and white cotton clouds rolling lazily along the length of the sky in my field of vision. After a few moments, Noah mimicked my position, lying near my side and staring up as I was. I couldn't help but giggle slightly.

"What?" he asked, and I felt his eyes on me. I wanted to return his gaze, but something stopped me.

"Do you remember the streetlight?" I asked, shutting my eyes to recreate the image long burned into my memory. A dark sky blanketed in stars, Noah lying at my side, and a streetlight suspended above us, repeating its programmed pattern of green, yellow, red, over and over again. Such a strange object to find beauty and peace in beholding, but somehow, Noah had shown me the exquisiteness of it. I often wished I could lie in the middle of a street in the city and watch a streetlight, but there are too many cars at all hours of the night for that.

"I remember nearly getting run over," Noah chuckled. "I remember the look on your face after the car came."

I couldn't hold back the laugh the recollection elicited. "That was so terrifying!" I finally turned my head and found Noah's gaze, daring to ask a question I'd been pondering for years. "Did you really lie in the street all the time and watch streetlights?"

He grinned and let out a small noise of amusement, turning his face skyward again. "My dad and I did once… but only once. I guess I just… wanted to impress you."

The smile on my lips faltered. "Noah…"

Thunder rumbled in the distance, interrupting my garbled thoughts as I considered what I could possibly say to him after such an admission. I thought nothing of the thunder until Noah got up and began packing up what little there was to pack from our lunch and threw it back into the boat. "Great," he muttered, tossing his empty lemonade bottle into the watercraft. "We've got to go."

I rolled off of the blanket as he reached for it and, watching him fold it, asked, "What's going on?"

"Storm's rolling in. If we're fast we can beat it… hopefully." He didn't sound too sure as he took my hand and pulled me to my feet before helping me back into the boat.

Noah rowed much faster on the way back than he had getting us out onto the lake, but even his fervent endeavors could not save us from the storm. It amazed me how quickly the air changed. It had been so warm an hour ago, and now our breaths were manifesting as fog before our very eyes. The storm came on sudden and in full fury, unleashing steady bullets of rain that struck my skin and stung me with each harsh caress. The both of us were drenched in under a minute, and there was nothing to be done to avoid it. We were victims of the storm, at its mercy entirely. I jolted with each clap of thunder and burst of lightning, shuddering every moment to feel the rain on my skin.

To my shock, Noah began to laugh. An earnest, wonderful sound of genuine happiness… and even though I had been upset not two minutes earlier by the way the rain was ruining my hair and my dress, his laugh made all of that fade until I couldn't help but laugh with him, leaning backwards over the boat's edge so my upper body was tilted skyward and outstretching my arms as though I could embrace each raindrop. My teeth were chattering and my body was assaulted by shakes from the frigid air and pelting rain, but despite all of that, I was happy too.

---

I went straight for my car when we arrived back at the house, but Noah steered me forcefully away from it. "What are you doing? You think you can drive in this?" he demanded, apparently appalled that I would even consider such an endeavor.

"I don't see much of a choice!" I remarked, staring challengingly at him. What did he propose I do, then? Stay? I both wanted and didn't want that, and it seemed to me that Noah was suffering a similar internal battle.

"At least come in and dry off… we'll wait for the storm to pass," he proposed, pleading to me with his eyes. "It's dangerous to drive now."

I cast another glance at my car, weighing my options. It wasn't smart to drive, and I knew that, but was staying here any more intelligent? I was holding onto my heart by a mere thread that would break all too easily. Either way, there were chances I would lose something… I supposed it was better to chance the loss of my heart again than inviting an opportunity for the loss of my life. So I turned back towards Noah and accepted his offer silently, letting him lead me up the front steps to the door.

Memories assaulted me the moment we had slipped inside, and I trembled violently, a shiver that had nothing to do with being cold. The very first room… with the fireplace and the staircase.I remembered it well. This was where we had almost had sex, where I had almost lost my virginity to him. I wonder what would have happened if we hadn't been interrupted, if my parents hadn't interfered and sent the police looking for me, of all things. And now, thinking about all of that, I wondered how it would feel to lose my virginity. Men had come and gone in the last seven years, and the only relationship I'd gotten into was with Lon… and he was a good Christian boy. I'd had little chance to lose my virginity to anyone else. Sure, I could have indulged in a one night stand with a handsome boy who could barely remember my name, but something had always stopped me. I wanted my first time to be romantic… with the person I loved. And the thought of my wedding night with Lon had terrified me. Up until this moment, I had thought it was merely the fears of a virgin faced with having sex for the first time… now I saw the truth behind my uneasiness. A part of me still believed my virginity belonged to Noah… here. Seven years ago.

Noah was scrutinizing my expression attentively, trying to decipher the emotions displayed in my eyes, but I refused to let him, never meeting his stare. He must have given up after a while, because he indicated the staircase and told me, "The bedrooms are upstairs… the one of the end of the right side of the hall has a few things you could wear. Go dry off."

"What about you?" my teeth chattered violently as I asked the question, and I barely understood my own words."

"I left my shed open… I've got to go close it. Go dry off," he repeated firmly, turning around and heading back into the storm outside. I considered waiting for him, but I was too desperate to rid myself of my drenched clothing to linger by the door, so I turned instead to the staircase, passing the table situated directly over the spot where we had once intended to make love with an embarrassed glance, and scampered up the stairs and to the bedroom at the end of the right side of the hall, just as Noah had instructed.

I shut the door, kicked off my shoes, and stripped off my dress, shivering when cool air hit my wet skin. The rain had been so brutal that I was soaked through to my undergarments. The thought of undressing completely in the home of any man, even my fiancé's, was unsettling, but I didn't fancy staying in wet clothes. Pink tingeing my cheeks in a blush, I stripped off my girdle and my bra, rushing to the closet. Noah had said something about clothing, hadn't he? Yes… the closet's contents consisted primarily of empty hangers, but there was a pale pink nightdress and a practical green dress hanging at the very end. I paused, considering for a moment why there were clothes for a woman in this closet. Was it possible…?

Slowly, my gaze lifted from the dresses to the shelf running along the top length of the closet, spying a red blanket. I reached for it instead and bundled myself in the warmth it offered. If my assumptions were correct, those were another woman's clothes, and I didn't want to wear them. I took a few hangers out of the closet and hung my dress and underclothes, arranging them not he opposite side of the closet, and shut the door.

I turned my attention to the window. The sky was dark, thick with clouds that blocked out any sunlight, and rain poured from them with no sign of ceasing. I sighed, suddenly exhausted, and combed a tangle out of my dripping hair with my fingers. Not much I could do but stay in this room, waiting for my clothes to dry and the storm to run its course. And now I had another thing to feel sick about. Noah with another woman.

Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, rather pointlessly. Why was I crying? What right did I have to feel betrayed? So Noah had moved on with his life… I had no claim to him. Hell, I shouldn't even be here. I'm engaged. The only man I should be thinking about is Lon. But I couldn't… no matter how hard I tried, the only face I could conjure in my mind's eye was Noah's.

I shoved the tears brutally out of my eyes and curled up on the bed, burrowed beneath the blanket from the closet, and listened to the storm. Somewhere along the way, my consciousness melted away for my mind to partially enter dreams, but I was still lucid enough to know the sound of a door creaking open when I heard it. I remained motionless, giving nothing to betray my consciousness. I kept my breaths even and paced, feigning sleep.

"Allie?" Noah's voice was soft as he called out to me, but I still offered no reply. I didn't want to face him at the moment. My mind was a mess. I couldn't understand sense from longing anymore. My head and my heart were telling me such vastly contrasting things with such intensity that I just felt sick, and at the core of it all was Noah.

I heard him approach the bed and kept my eyes resolutely shut, but my resolve almost fell apart when I felt his hand gently caress my cheek. My heart rate accelerated, but I remained as I was, forcing myself to take long, slow breaths to maintain my façade, desperate that he should not know I was awake and reveling in his touch. His fingers stroked a path from my temple down to my chin, his thumb tracing my jawline. I felt an overpowering sense of depression when he removed his hand from my skin, lifting a few wet strands of hair away from my neck and spreading them out on the bed, and then his footsteps came again, fading towards the door, and I heard the telltale click that informed me he had left.

I waited a long time to truly cry, and my tears would not cease even as I desperately sought sleep. Anything to escape my reality…

The dreams of the previous evening eluded me in this slumber, and all I could comprehend was the hollow loneliness spreading through my very core. Shapes came and went in the corners of my eyes, foreboding silhouettes with glowing embers for eyes, but I could never bring them into focus… and I wasn't sure I wanted to. It was cold… so cold. I was terrified of being trapped here forever, alone with no one looking for me, no way out. An eternity afraid and lonely… I cried out for anyone, begging for someone to reply, but I never got an answer. I was caught in a storm more brutal than even the one I'd experienced… though that storm seemed hazy in my memory. Wind cut the air in almost visible paths through the rain, ripping through me yet encasing me in a terrifying embrace that I feared I would have to endure forever, seeping into my skin and down to my very bones. My body grew numb with cold, shivers racing through my every limb, and I sobbed with the knowledge that I was doomed.

The trembles heightened until at last, with a start, a particularly violent one thrust me back into reality, rattling me brutally from my nightmare. I sat up, clutching the blanket to my body, and tried calming myself, still shaking with fear. Already the nightmare was growing hazy at the edges as my reality took root, but even as I calmed from the terrifying illusion, my shivers would not cease.

I could still hear the storm raging on outside, and I shrunk away from the noise instinctually, the nightmare still affecting me on the physical plane. The sky was dark now with night as well as clouds, and I tried to imagine they didn't exist and I could see stars. Even that didn't help to rid myself of my violent shaking.

The clock on the wall displayed a time barely past midnight, and I told myself I should just return to sleep… but then the feeling returned to my limbs and the trembles intensified as hot and cold both raced through my body, affecting me at the same time. I felt like my every nerve had gone haywire,and the incessantness of the shakes as they grew harsher thrust me into the realization that there was something wrong.

I desperately tried to make it cease, tried force my body to obey my mind's suddenly fear-hazy commands, but no amount of flexing my limbs or attempts to rub warmth back into them would elicit the desired result.

"What's happening to me?" I whispered, just to make sure I wasn't still caught in some dream… but my voice worked and was almost too loud, even with my hushed tone, and my vision blurred as tears welled in them. I hated crying; why was I crying so much lately? But I couldn't help it. I was just so… scared.

My lungs didn't seem to be working; every breath was gasped into them as I got to my feet and went to the closet. At this point there was only one thing for me to do, and I wasn't going to do it naked but for a blanket. I managed to open the closet with trembling fingers and drew on the pale pink nightdress, still keeping the blanket wrapped around me as I went to the door in weak hopes that it would help to put a halt to my shivers.

And then I stopped. Past midnight, I scolded myself. Noah was probably in bed. What was I going to do, steal into his bedroom and directly to his bedside? Such a brazen act was horrifying to consider, but even as I balked the shivers intensified enough that my head began to pound, and I knew I had little choice.

I slipped out of the room on shaking legs, keeping my palm against the wall at all times for support. It felt like I might collapse at any moment. I wasn't sure which room was Noah's, but as I proceeded down the hall I found that going to his bedside was highly unnecessary – there was light filtering into the hall from the staircase, revealing that someone was still downstairs. I nearly tumbled going down the steps, clutching the railing to remain upright, and tentatively peered out into the front room, my eyes scanning every corner, searching for him. The light was on over the table and a fire flickering in the hearth, the source of the light that had called me downstairs, and I wished I could be sitting in front of it, absorbing its radiating heat. But my head throbbed with my incessant shaking once more, and I was reminded that finding Noah should be my priority.

A separate glow filtering through another doorway caught my attention, and I approached it on legs that felt more like jelly than functioning limbs, stopping in the room's threshold when I found him. I appeared to be in a sitting room now, two armchairs positioned next to a window. Noah occupied one of them, apparently watching the storm, and his eyes were glassy, as if he was considering things inside a daydream.

"Noah," I called weakly; my voice sounded more like a whimper, and I cringed to hear such a pitiful sound. At once his eyes lost that faraway quality, snapping to alertness as he turned to regard me, quivering with tears staining my cheeks, in the doorway.

"Allie." He said my name almost in disbelief, rising from his chair almost at once. "What's going on?"

"There's something wrong with me," I whispered, suddenly humiliated. Why hadn't I just gone back to sleep? This bizarre affliction might have passed if I'd only gotten a bit more rest… and I wouldn't have to bear this shame. Noah approached me hesitantly, stopping before me with his hands stiffly at his sides, his fingers curling fitfully into his palms. I got the feeling he was resisting the urge to touch me. But I wanted him to… I wanted more of the sample I'd had earlier with that caress he'd offered me as I feigned sleep. I wanted so much more. "I can't stop shaking," I explained feebly, leaning further against the doorframe. My legs didn't feel like they'd be stable for very long.

Noah let out a long sigh as he observed me, taking note of my quivers as I stared, wide-eyed, back at him. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "You didn't dry off like I told you to… did you?"

I blushed and looked down at the hem of the blanket dragging on the floor. "Not exactly," I admitted guiltily, my vision blurring further. No! I wouldn't cry in front of him! I refused to!

Noah pressed his palm to my forehead without reservation, and I shuddered from the contact rather than whatever ailment my body was suffering from, though it was quickly lost amongst the others. His jaw clenched in thought for a moment, and then he pulled his hand away. "You've got a fever, Allie. You should get back to bed," he ordered tersely, his arms folding across his chest. His posture indicated anger, but I didn't feel like he was upset with me for neglecting his previous commands to dry off.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. What else was there I could have said? It was my fault, wasn't it? Although I had to wonder, with such a sudden onset of this illness, if all my queasiness throughout the day had been for more than merely nerves resulting in being in Noah's presence.

"Go to bed, Allie," Noah repeated himself, and suddenly desperate to be away from his tense commands and aura, I turned and went back the way I had come. I took only a few steps and my quivering legs suddenly couldn't hold my weight anymore. Before I could fall, though, a pair of arms caught me, holding me steady. I tried regaining my balance and pulling away, but Noah's grip was strong and adamant, clutching me close to his chest, and though every bit of sense I had left screamed at me that this was much too close, my shivering body sought the warmth his offered, and instinct won out as I pressed myself into him, feeling little more than a meager bundle of trembling limbs and tangled locks of auburn hair.

"I guess getting back to bed yourself isn't going to happen," Noah said, sounding amused. I realized that having me so willingly pressed against him was exactly what he wanted… and yet I still didn't pull away. Before I realized his intentions, he had swept me off my trembling legs, blanket and all, up into his arms, cradling me against his heartbeat. And for some reason, listening to that metronome beat within his chest sent me over the edge. Tears spilled over my cheeks before I could stop them and I burrowed my face into his shirt, praying that my shivers would mask the way I quivered as I cried.

They didn't. Noah chuckled and gripped me tighter as he mounted the stairs to the second floor, and I marveled at his strength, which never faltered even with an added one hundred twenty pounds of a shaking woman in his arms. "Geez, Allie, you don't have to cry," he told me, speaking softly. His voice vibrated in his chest, a small comfort. "It'll be fine."

I sniffled, desperately trying to make my voice sound normal and come up with a biting remark, but my thoughts were incredibly incoherent and I could barely sort out one word from another, and in the end all I could manage in whispered syllables as he arrived back at the door to the bedroom I'd used was, "I'm scared."

"Scared of what? You're never scared of anything," he reminded me, recalling a remark I'd made seven years ago as he tugged back the covers on the bed and lowered me down with gentle care. But that was seven years ago, and this was now, and there were plenty of things I'd realized I was scared of. Losing myself, for one thing… being alone forever… dying.

"Why can't I stop shaking?" I asked weakly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's just the fever, Allie," Noah attempted to appease me, to little avail, as he tugged the covers over me. "We'll get it down. I'll go get a towel for your head; it'll help."

The thought of being alone terrified me, making me recall the nightmare I wished I could forget, and I clutched at his arm and gripped it as tight as I could, desperation in my every act. "Don't leave me alone," I feebly begged, caring little that such a request made to a man from an engaged woman was improper. If I was alone, the darkness would swallow me whole… I just knew it would. I would be alone forever with no one to find me, no one to save me.

"I'll be right back," Noah assured, trying to pull his arm away from me, but my hold was surprisingly adamant; I hadn't thought I'd had enough strength to remain grasping his wrist. "Allie, I promise I'll come right back. It'll take me five minutes."

"No," I protested. His silhouette was blurring in and out of focus, but I could still see his blue eyes clearly, and they were filled with confusion and urgency. Maybe he was scared, too… I could barely fathom it. I'd always put up a brave façade, but he'd never needed to hide behind one of his own… Noah was always fearless. Perhaps he merely thought I was losing my mind in this fevered delirium, but for once I was actually thinking clearly. I didn't want him to leave.

Noah gently pried my fingers away from his arm and moved out of my line of reach before I could grasp him again. I let my arm fall limply to the mattress at my side, shaking my head. My tears rolled down my cheeks into my disheveled hair tangled atop the pillow.

"I'll be right back. Okay? I promise," he vowed, holding my gaze. "You're going to have to trust me… do you trust me, Allie?" he asked quietly, as though he was terrified of my answer. He didn't need to be. I nodded once without hesitation, and he looked humbled for the briefest of instants before he turned away from the bed, glancing back at me long enough to convey an unspoken oath before slipping out of the room.

I held my throbbing head in my hands as though it would help alleviate the ache and allowed a sob past my lips. I was such an idiot! Why had I ever come back to Seabrook?! Only two days and already I was where I knew I shouldn't be, where I had told myself I wouldn't go… I was falling in love with Noah all over again, ever since the first moment I saw him in the diner, and with every moment that passed spent with Noah, my engagement to Lon was unraveling. What I wanted wasn't what I should want… being with Noah wasn't what I was supposed to want. When I closed my eyes and imagined my future I was supposed to see myself at Lon's side on our wedding day, losing my virginity to him on our wedding night, and living my life in contentment, in a house with a porch and a large yard and children running through the rooms… I wasn't supposed to see Noah, Noah, only Noah…

Noah's eyes had told me everything… the emotions in them had been everything I could have ever wanted. Endless adoration and reverence… Lon looks at me fondly, but never with such intense passion. And Lon never knew what to do when I cried, always awkward and uncomfortable and only making me feel worse; Noah was tender and patient, knowing how to ease my fears even after we'd spent seven years apart. I couldn't imagine being the way I was now around Lon. He'd probably call someone else to come deal with me. It was different here with Noah. Being sick was humiliating for sure, but how could I resent it too much when someone so gentle and concerned was the one I'd be recovering around?

I swallowed back sobs and wiped at my tears, trying to erase their existence, and rolled over away from the door, shutting my eyes and concentrating on listening to the storm, which wasn't comforting as much as distracting… I just couldn't think about my messed up situation anymore, or I would go absolutely crazy. Reality flickered to and from the forefront of my mind, and I was half asleep when I felt Noah's palm on my forehead and heard his voice gently coaxing me to wake up. I let out a muffled groan and turned my face upwards towards the ceiling, my hazy gaze meeting Noah's. He pulled his hand away and laid a damp cloth on my brow instead, what felt like a pitiable substitute to me. Noah's hand had been just as cold, and I much preferred it against my skin than a wet towel.

I fought to remain awake, but I was slowly losing that battle. I wished Noah would talk to me, but he seemed preoccupied in dragging the armchair sitting in the corner to my bedside and wasn't even looking at me, let alone showing signs of attempting conversation. I waited for him to seat himself as I warded off sleep, too afraid that slumber would immerse me in nightmares again. A violent shiver racked my body, and my head throbbed with a fierce intensity that made me gasp. It continued to pound in a way that dulled my senses, and I had to work very hard to acknowledge Noah was asking me if I was all right.

I shut my eyes in a desperate bid to hide the tears welling in my eyes from him. "Do you think I'm going to die?" I asked meekly. For once, I wasn't trying to be melodramatic; I was genuinely concerned about this bizarre condition. My shakes went on with no identifiable ending point, my head throbbed with various levels of potency every few seconds, and I was hot and cold at the same time.

"I don't," Noah replied forcefully, and I was shocked at the vigor in his tone. It was more like he was challenging me to try to die, because he wouldn't let me even if I did. That reassured me, surprisingly. He continued, "If you honestly think it's that bad, we'll go into town and get you to a doctor."

I didn't see that as a feasible option. "But the storm—"

"Forget the storm, Allie. If you think you need a doctor, say the word and we'll go."

I sighed, this time in contentment, and shook my head. Now I remembered why I always felt safe with Noah… it was because of this. His undying concern for me and resolve to do what would be best. "Thank you, Noah."

I was unprepared for the feeling of my hand suddenly encased in his, but oh, how I cherished the sensation! His fingers wove between mine perfectly, and as he pressed our palms flush together he said quietly, "Sleep, Allie."

And I obeyed.

---

I woke up with my body still pulsating subtly, but it was a vast improvement over the incessant trembles of my last bout of consciousness. My head's throbbing had dimmed to no more than a dull ache, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me to realize the full impact of the fever had passed and I was on my way to recovering – my life was definitely not hanging in balance. Sighing, I opened my eyes and observed my surroundings. Outside the storm raged on, and through the rain-spattered window I could see the sky was a dark gray, illuminated by flashes of lightening every several seconds so instantaneous that if you blinked you would miss it. The clock told me it was late morning, and I briefly considered the phone call I should have made last night to my fiancée… but only briefly. I didn't want to think about Lon anymore. It would only make my headache worse.

I sat up and something fell onto my lap. I hadn't realized the towel was still on my head, and I scooped it up into my hands and paused. It was still damp and cold, even though Noah had laid it over my head several hours ago. Realizing he must have kept it constantly moist for it to be like that now made me blush, humbled to bear the extent of his adoration and worry.

The air was cooler outside the covers, and I began to shiver again, though this time they weren't nearly as powerful. I rubbed sleep out of my eyes and looked around, expecting to see Noah, but he wasn't in the room. Now what to do? I knew from my lingering trembles I wasn't fully recovered, but the prospect on being confined to this little room, especially in the brunt of the violent storm still rampant and unyielding outside, was unbearable.

I had not experienced any more nightmares in my return to slumber, but I'd had no dreams either. None that I remembered, at the very least. I wanted to attribute such restful sleep to Noah's presence and the feel of his hand in mine… such a sensation almost forgotten in our seven years apart. What had possessed him to do such a thing? Holding the hand of an engaged woman? Though it hadn't been at all unwanted…

I drew the red blanket around my shoulders and pondered going to look for him. I wondered if my legs would hold my weight this time around, but the execution of such an expedition was avoided within the minute – the bedroom door opened and Noah slipped inside, wearing new clothes… and sporting no beard. Good lord, how the sight of him affected me! Minor differences in his appearance now from six years ago, but only minor, struck my eye… but for all it was worth, he was the same Noah as seven years ago, the one I had fallen in love with to begin with. And all of a sudden my entire body throbbed with the need for him.

Oh, god! I had thought I'd known what desire was seven years ago asking Noah to make love to me… that feeling was positively dwarfed by this sensation, this yearning to feel his hands on my body and his lips covering mine… it heightened my every nerve ending and goose bumps erupted over my arms with merely the thought. Lon had never made me feel such an intense emotion!

Noah's eyes caught mine and he smiled. "What do you think?"

Words escaped me; coherent thought in general had completely abandoned me, and I only nodded and let out a breathy exhalation, having forgotten to draw airinto my lungs beneath the potent wave of desire that had overtaken me to see him clean-shaven.

"How do you feel?" he asked, coming to my side as I watched his every movement and cupping my brow in his hand. If only he wouldn't limit his touch there… He pulled away much too soon and noted aloud, "Your fever's better. Not gone, though."

"The shaking's almost stopped, too," I reported, my voice carried on the air rather than manifesting as true tone.

Noah looked me over with a scrutinizing gaze and replied with obvious reluctance, "Well… that's good." I was confused by his bitter tone at first before I remembered his very similar tenor yesterday on the lake when speaking of swans and how they would leave. When I got better I would leave him… or at least, that's what I was supposed to do. My head told me to do that, but my inconstant heart was beginning to fantasize what my life would be staying here with him…

"Allie?" Noah's hand on my shoulder pulled my mind from the facets of daydreams and back into the present, and I stared at him dumbly, blushing as I realized he'd asked me a question I hadn't heard. Apparently my expression told him as much, because he asked again, "Do you want breakfast, or do you not think that's a good idea?"

I shook my head, taking note of my twisting stomach. It was as though it was folding in on itself in protest of its emptiness. "No, I want breakfast."

"I'll be in the kitchen… come down when you're ready," Noah said, leaving the room before any more words could be spoken. We were treading on thin ice now and I knew it wouldn't be long until the cracks gave way and we both fell… not long until I gave into my heart rather than my head and I decided I wanted to stay here. If only I had more willpower! But, well… there's just something about Noah that makes me want him all the time. He's like a drug, only far more addicting. It took me more than a year to get over him enough to even consider dating… and even then a part of me had always yearned for him, and that part was growing stronger with every passing minute.

Noah had acted like I had so much to do preparing myself for the day, but in all honesty I didn't see the point in getting dressed if I was still sick. I had nowhere to be and no immediate plans to leave; why not just stay in the nightdress and continue to move around wrapped in the red blanket? In the end all I did was brush out my tangled hair, letting it fall in natural waves rather than the curls I usually keep it in, and find my shoes, slipping them on before I headed downstairs to the kitchen, which I identified by the sound of motion coming from inside, as well as the scent of cooking sausage wafting through the door.

I went to Noah's side and he glanced at me and then back to the stove, the food holding his attention. Eggs and sausage; a proper country breakfast. It was such a refreshing change from pastries I had to tread carefully around every morning, warned by my mother to lay off the sugar; didn't I want to fit into my wedding dress? And now I was beginning to think there wasn't going to even be a wedding… my mind was in absolute turmoil, and my conscience even more so. When I considered hurting Noah and returning to Lon it called me heartless; when I pondered remaining with Noah and devastating my fiancée, my conscience yelled at me for breaking promises and being so childishly dithering.

There was no way to avoid it. One of them was going to get hurt, and me with it, because how could I be happy knowing I was going to break someone's heart? The only question was, did I break Noah's a second time, or did Lon have to suffer for my indecisiveness?

I just didn't know.

Noah reached across me to open a cupboard and pulled out a glass. He handed it to me and pointed at the sink as his attention went to flipping an egg. "Fill that, and go sit down and drink it. I'm not letting you anywhere near the food until I know you can stomach it."

I sighed, slightly irked by his orders when my stomach was stabbing at me for sustenance, but I did as he said, filling the glass with water from the sink and slipping back out into the front room, sitting down at the table and trying hard not to think about its positioning; why oh why would Noah place it directly over the spot we'd nearly made love that night seven years ago?

The water was gone within a minute; once I'd taken a drink it was as though I realized I was thirsty, and I'd gulped at it to satiate my parched throat. My stomach was glad for some substance, but water didn't do nearly as much good as food would… and I was determined to have breakfast now. That sausage smelled heavenly… everyone in my family preferred bacon, and it had been well over a year since I'd eaten sausage.

Noah came out of the kitchen some five minutes later, but to my disappointment he came bearing no food. He barely even glanced at me, heading straight for the fireplace and coaxing the embers back into the roaring flames they'd been last night when I'd stolen down to the sitting room in search of him. Standing up and nodding his approval, he turned to regard me and said, "It'll get cold in here pretty quick with the storm outside." It wasn't that cold in here, and I knew the fire was really more for me, so I wouldn't become subject to chill. Why did he have to be so compassionate? This would all be so much easier if he was inconsiderate of my symptoms…

Noah pried the glass away from me, taking note of its emptiness. "How do you feel?"

"Hungry," I said firmly, praying he wasn't going to make me hold down another glass of water before I was allowed to actually eat. It was funny, the roles we had adopted; I felt like a child all of a sudden, and he was caregiver.

He chuckled and turned back to the kitchen. "Alright, then."

My appetite may not have been vast, but what little there was got me through two eggs and two sausages, while Noah sustained himself on the rest. I lost count of exactly how many eggs and sausages he ate, but he seemed far hungrier than I, devouring what was on his plate with an almost voracious urgency.

Or perhaps he was merely trying to keep his mouth full at all times to avoid conversation. Still, the silence that stretched between us wasn't uncomfortable. I cast discreet glances at Noah every so often, sometimes catching him looking back at me in much the same manner. I'd blush, he'd get slightly red, and then we'd both return too attentively to our food until our eyes next caught one another's.

Noah finished eating the moment I set down my fork, and at once Noah stood and gathered my plate as well as his, retreating back to the kitchen. I sat back in my chair and stared at the door, trying to imagine this every morning. There would be conversation, of course, discussions about everything we could imagine… we could talk about my art when I took it up again and about his job and…

Oh, lord. I was doing it again. That wasn't my future. It wasn't supposed to be mine. My future was supposed to be Lon's…

I sighed and held my head, my elbows on the table as I put a stop to fantasies that had no business occupying my mind. A shudder ran through my body again and I grimaced. In all honesty, I'd forgotten that I was sick when sitting with Noah.

I was pulled from my thoughts by the sound of a glass being set upon the table and Noah's voice. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I replied at once, quickly pulling my hands away from my head and looking up at him. My illness, whatever it was, wasn't bothering me nearly as much as my chaotic thoughts were.

Noah indicated the glass he'd set down, and from his expression I could tell he didn't really believe me. "Drink some more water. It'll make you feel better."

There was little point in arguing that I did feel fine, apart from lingering shudders and a slight fever, so I reached for the glass and sipped at it as Noah sat down opposite me again, watching me as though he wanted to ensure I was actually drinking it.

In between mouthfuls of water, I asked, "What do you usually do during the day?"

Noah glanced at the window out at the storm and then met my gaze again. "Usually I go out into my shed and work, but… that won't be happening today."

I swallowed and took a chance. "I'm sorry the storm's keeping you from working."

"It's not the storm."

I blushed, not knowing whether I should be pleased that he didn't want to leave me alone or humiliated that I was keeping him from his work. To my surprise, Noah seemed amused by my reaction, smiling and shaking his head. "Don't think about it, Allie."

"It's hard not to," I mumbled, setting down my empty glass. "Then… what are we going to do today?"

"I guess we'll wait out the storm and get you better… and you can go," Noah said, tacking on the last point with extreme lack of enthusiasm. I wasn't too enthusiastic about that plan, either.

I looked towards the fireplace. Even with the red blanket draped around me, I was still cold. Without thinking too much, relying more on an instinct, I stood and went to it, seating myself on the floor facing the flames and hugging my knees to my chest. Warmth washed deliciously over me and I sighed in contentment.

A minute passed before Noah was lowering himself down next to me. "Allie, what are you doing?" he asked.

"It's warm," I defended myself, rubbing my arms as if to prove a point. Not that the friction generated any lasting heat. "And I'm cold."

Noah was staring at me with avid attentiveness, emotion swirling indiscernibly in his eyes, and I stared back, fixated on those endless blue depths. "What's that look for?" I whispered, afraid my voice would break the intimacy of the moment.

He didn't reply with words; that was one new thing about him that I'd noticed. He didn't have to vocalize nearly as much to convey what he wanted or felt anymore. I didn't talk nearly as much, either, but that was more by choice than a gained knowledge of replacements for speech.

Very slowly, he lifted his arm and positioned it around me without any physical contact between us, hesitating before wrapping me in a one-armed embrace and pulling me into him. "Noah," I breathed, appalled and delighted both. Sense screamed at me to pull away, but my heart and instinct won out, and I arched my body into his, reveling to be so close to him and the warmth his body heat provided me with.

"All you had to do was say you were cold," he murmured in my ear as I let out a soft sigh. Fatigue began to overtake me; I could feel it creeping through my limbs into my center, ready to claim me for sleep once more. I didn't want to fall back into slumber, but it seemed I would have little choice – my body, of all things, was currently enemy.

"I'm so tired," I mumbled against his chest, resisting the drooping of my eyelids.

"So sleep." He said it so casually. I wished I could be so nonchalant.

"Here?" I asked, having been half-expecting that answer but surprised nonetheless by his proposition. "But—"

"No buts, Allie… please… just let me stay like this. It's been so long."

I know it had. And no matter how much I wanted this, I was still engaged… still another man's. But thinking of Lon was pointless in Noah's arms, and with that revelation, I sighed a final time and allowed my eyelids to slide shut, sleep taking me with my surrender nearly at once.

---

Waking up was disorienting, reality seeping into my subconscious until I became aware of my surroundings. I was lying down with my head elevated, still covered by a blanket and, judging by the concentrated heat radiating from a spot in front of me, still in front of the fireplace. I shifted my position slightly into a more comfortable position and felt a gentle tugging sensation at my scalp.

I allowed my eyes to flutter open and realized Noah still sat with me, my head in his lap as he combed his fingers through my hair like he expected to remember each wave of auburn tangles. "Are you awake now?" he asked quietly.

I turned my face up towards his to reply, and then asked a question of my own. "What do you mean by now?"

"You've been restless," he explained, drawing his hand away reluctantly as I sat up, rubbing my eyes. "Were you having nightmares?"

I tried to remember nightmares, but there didn't seem to be any recollections of illusions formed by sleep so much as feelings experienced, and admittedly, none of them had been pleasant. More fear of being alone forever, never truly loved, never truly wanted. And yet I had none of those lingering emotions held inside me, because looking at Noah banished my fears. Everything displayed in his eyes told me I was not alone, and that I was wanted… and loved.

I pushed my hair out of my face and sighed. "Not nightmares," was the only reply I could formulate. Articulation and coherency never seemed to be present where Noah was concerned.

He reached out and pressed his palm against my forehead. "Barely a trace of fever left," he reported, confliction behind those blue eyes as he glanced out the window. My stomach twisted when I saw that the storm had passed as long last. The sky was a crystalline blue and white clouds were rolling in languid paths across it. I felt the same inner turmoil. I had no excuse anymore to stay.

I paused for a moment, staying still, almost challenging a tremble, but none came. For some reason, I couldn't be happy about that. "The shaking's stopped, too," I mumbled.

"I guess you're better."

"I guess so." If only I could be happy about the return of my health. "What time is it?"

Noah glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think about time passing… God, Allie, you slept all day. It's almost five."

No wonder I was better. I would never again scoff at the saying that sleep is the best medicine. Sighing, I stood up, keeping the blanket wrapped around me for modesty rather than necessity. The pale pink nightdress had been a good idea this morning, but now I felt almost exposed. I'd never granted Lon such an intimate image of me before. Why was everything I did around Noah so wrong when it felt so right?

"Are you hungry?" Noah asked, and I got the feeling that he was desperately trying to keep me from leaving sooner than I knew I had to.

And, even though it killed me, I knew I had to leave. I couldn't stay any longer… I couldn't. Not when I hadn't called my fiancée in two days and I was too far fallen for another man. I shook my head, unable to meet Noah's eye, and said, "No… I should go."

He looked away from me as well, chewing on his bottom lip and sighing raggedly. "…All right."

Now the silence stretching between us was not only uncomfortable; it was unbearable. I pursed my lips and slipped past him and up the stairs, back into the room at the end of the hall I had slept in last night. The task of ridding myself of the nightgown and putting my clothes back on seemed menial when my heart seemed to be breaking, and I knew Noah's was doing something similar downstairs.

I looked back towards the bed and shut my eyes, resisting tears as I recalled Noah's soft, comforting voice, and his hand in mine. I shoved aside memories and made the bed, a pathetic attempt at removing evidence of my presence in this house, and laid the nightdress over the comforter once I was done, unsure of what else to do with it.

I wasn't sure if Noah was going to see me off when I got downstairs and he was nowhere to be seen, and thinking that perhaps avoiding goodbyes was best, given our history, I went through the front door, going slowly to my car to ensure I wouldn't sink into randomly scattered holes of mud.

"Allie!"

I turned around, praying for a moment that Noah wouldn't let me go, but as I watched him bound off his front porch and towards me I still saw regret and hurt in his expression, and I knew I would get no such relief. He stopped in front of me, his eyes raking over my body in a way that I felt every touchless caress… and I did the same thing, trying to satiate a small part of myself that was always going to want to see him standing before me that could never be fulfilled in the brief seconds we had left in each other's presence.

But it couldn't last forever, and finally Noah breathed a simple, "Goodbye, Allie."

I nodded and turned my face away before he could see the tears welling up in my eyes. "Bye, Noah… and thank you."

I opened my car door and climbed into the driver's seat at once, shutting the door behind me to create a barrier between us. I wished I could scream… but Noah was still standing outside my door, watching me. All I could do was cry silently as I started my car and pulled out of the driveway, getting barely around the corner before I was forced to pull over, my tears falling too fast to see the road.

I was going back to everything I didn't want and leaving behind all that I did. I was broken in half, ruined… returning to Lon was pointless, because I couldn't love him. My heart was too full of Noah and his love to ever begin to consider giving it to anyone else. Lon was a good man, and I would break his heart, but our relationship could never be anything but miserable since it was impossible for me to feel the same way.

But why? Why did it have to be this way? The choice was mine, and I didn't want it to be! If only Noah hadn't asked me to come over to show me the swans… my choice would have been made for me. I would have gone back to Lon, and while my mind would have always been slightly with Noah, living with Lon would have been tolerable… enjoyable, even, to an extent. And if Noah had said one word asking me to stay, I would have. My choice would have been made for me, and while I would have regretted leaving Lon… well, a life with Noah was what I had been imagining for seven years.

Why couldn't things have been different seven years ago? Why had we lost all contact? I had waited years for anything from him… a letter, at the very least. But no. We had left things on a sour note, but it had never been over… not for me. Never for me. How I had waited! Crying myself to sleep for a year because every day I waited in anticipation for the mail, and every day my mother came in bearing no letter from him among the bills and notices. I loved him so much. I still love him so much. And it seemed like he'd loved me back in the last couple of days…

Then why hadn't he written me?!

"Shit," I muttered, wiping fiercely at the tears in my eyes and pulling a highly reckless U-turn and speeding back around the corner and up Noah's driveway. He was standing in the exact same spot as I had left him, looking dead, and I parked my car, once again barely avoiding knocking over his fence. I wrenched open the car door and clambered out, suddenly furious. "Why didn't you write me?!" I demanded, finding his immobility and the glassy look in his eyes absolutely intolerable. I wanted answers. Now. "Why?! It wasn't over for me!" I yelled, choking back sobs. I'd imagined accusing him of this for over a year, and in my mind I was always strong and collected. Now I was seconds away from falling apart.

Oh, why was he just standing there? All he seemed capable of was staring at me!

"I waited for you for seven years," I confessed, my voice cracking. I wished he'd say something. "And now it's too late…"

And suddenly, he moved. He turned to face me directly, nearly closing the distance between us. "I wrote you 365 letters," he said seriously, and I would have called him a liar if there hadn't been so much pain in his voice. For some reason, I didn't feel like he was lying to me. But… how could that be? Holding my eye, he told me, "I wrote you every day for a year."

Now it was my turn to stare at him. No… this didn't make any sense. Letters… 365 of them. I had never gotten a one. It didn't seem possible. "You wrote me?" I finally managed to choke out. I had never seen one letter, but… if he had really written to me, then there was still hope. So much hope.

But why hadn't I gotten any of them?!

"Yes!" he exclaimed. He held my eye with such intensity… it only made my tears roll faster down my cheeks. "It wasn't over," he assured me quietly. "It still isn't over."

"Don't say that now!" I exclaimed shrilly, jerking away from him when he leaned in like he was making to kiss me. "It's too late!"

"Why?" he demanded. Oh, it had been so long since I'd been the recipient of his temper. Strangely, I didn't care this time. I even wanted more of it, just to prove I still had a powerful effect over him. Oh, yes, I wanted to punish him. Perhaps that was petty and misdirected, but I was furious and confused and I needed to take all that out on someone, and Noah's flaring temper only made it that much easier.

"Because I'm getting married!" I almost screamed at him. He was blurring in and out of focus through my tears. "It's too late!"

"Is that what you want?!" He yelled right back at me. Oh, god, I hadn't felt so angry in years! All emotions had been dulled in my seven years of total apathy, and this rage was lighting my blood on fire. To feel again! It was both incredible and… agonizing. And Noah's anger was only fueling that fire. "Is that really what you want? You didn't even say yes to him!"

"I made a promise to a man!" I shouted. Damn it, why had I told him that?! I had spoon-fed him ammunition to use against me! "He gave me a ring and I gave him my word!"

"But is that what you want?!" he roared, and I flinched. "What are you going to do, Al?!"

The use of the old familiar nickname humbled me, and all of a sudden I wasn't angry anymore. I was hurt… I knew I had been backed into a corner and there was no way out. "I don't know," I whispered.

"Would you just stay with me?" he asked, and there was anger in his tone, but there was also a desperation that broke my heart.

"Stay with you?" I repeated, terrified to let him know that was all I wanted. "I can't, you know I can't."

"You can do whatever you want, Allie, but I guess you just don't know what that is!" he yelled. "All you care about is what everybody else thinks about what you should do! Your parents never liked me, your friends didn't approve of me…" he stopped and covered his mouth with his hand as though to think, his brow creased with heavy and furious thoughts. "This is not about keeping your promise. And it's not about following your heart," he accused, his voice deadly low, like the calm before the storm. He was always a storm waiting to be unleashed, but lord help me, I loved him for it. Storm or otherwise, he was my storm. My perfect storm. "It's about security."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked. Anger was bubbling back up again.

"Money!" he yelled, and I felt as though he had punched me in the gut. He ignored my feeble protests and continued furiously, "He's got a lot of money!"

"You think I'm that shallow?!" I shrieked. "You think that's all I care about?! If that's really what you think then you never knew me at all! I care about so much more than that!"

"Really?! Prove it!" he challenged me. "Tell me what you want, Al! Tell me!" His breaths were heavy, like he had forgotten to breathe in the brunt of his anger. "What do you want, Allie?" he repeated softly, and I forgot about our fight. I forgot everything and looked into my heart for the first time, setting it free as I forced sense aside and let myself explore everything that felt right to me.

And I found my answer within seconds. "You," I whispered.

He kissed me, he kissed me, he kissed me. Oh, lord, did he kiss me! His hands were on my cheeks, his fingertips extending across my temples and creeping into my hairline, and his lips were like I remembered them… but the memories of the sensations had dulled with passing time, and they came back in startling jolts that I never wanted to end. His lips moved fervently against mine, coaxing my response until I was devouring his mouth just as equally, and his tongue darted past the seam of my lips, exploring the contours of my mouth so ardently that my knees trembled. There was a pull developing between my legs, and I couldn't say it was altogether unpleasant to experience. Desire… so this was desire.

I was so absorbed that I barely noticed that he was lifting me off the ground, and encouraging what I knew what was about to happen, I wrapped my legs around his torso and my arms around his neck, weaving my fingers into his hair, clinging desperately to him so he wouldn't let me go.

He carried me into the house and up the stairs, surfacing from our kiss only occasionally and briefly to see where he was going, and somewhere along the road my tongue was in his mouth instead of vice versa, and how wonderful he tasted! I let out a whine, a wordless protest of our separation, when he set me on the bed and pulled away.

"Sshh," he hushed me, climbing atop the bed and positioning himself over me to begin pressing random kisses along my throat and then my collarbone. Tingles of what can only be described as pleasure ran through my body, originating wherever his lips met my skin. When he pulled away again I didn't have enough breath in me to protest, but he pulled me off the bed and stood with his body pressed flush to mine.

I gasped when I felt the physical proof of his desire pressing into my backside. We'd been close to sex before, but seven years had passed and all my insecurities and fears were still very much present, even though I knew I would not allow such qualms to manifest as nervous babbling as it had back then, and I refused to have any regrets after tonight. I kept quiet and shuddered as he gently pushed my hair aside, allowing it to hang over my right shoulder, as he took the zipper of my dress and tugged it down. One shrug of my shoulders, and I stood before him in nothing but my undergarments.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to the sensitive flesh at the base of my neck as he worked at undoing my girdle, and I inhaled sharply, a wave of desire crashing overpoweringly over me. Suddenly desperate to be a more integral part of this scene, I kicked off my shoes as he discarded the modern version of the corset and began working at the clasp of my bra, unhooking it and drawing it down my arms with my back still to him. I turned to face him, blushing furiously as his eyes ravished me. "Don't be nervous," he breathed huskily, adoration in every syllable. Slowly, he placed his hands on my waist, caressing my bare flesh before he ran them up my sides and to my breasts, cupping their weight in his palms as his thumbs grazed their hardened tips. A cry I couldn't hold back escaped my lips, a sound I'd never heard myself make before.

A violent shudder ran down the length of my spine. No contact had ever made me feel this way! My conviction wavered, knowing we had been like this before; but the shy virgin within me was making an appearance, and I didn't know what to expect from my body anymore. But such doubts melted with the continuous teasing of his fingers, apprehension fading into the background and transforming into a pleading existing in my very core for this never to stop. I would have suffered through anything, lived through several hundred more nights in fevered and trembling delirium, anything so long as he didn't stop.

His lips found mine and traveled down to the crease of my neck, trailing a path along the side of my throat, and I whimpered with delight, barely believing the sensations I was experiencing were possible. Noah pulled away and gave me a long look, as though he was asking my permission, but my hazy stare must have said everything without any words or actions on my part. I hadn't fully realized his intentions, and the gasp that I let out as he captured one firm nipple between his lips was of both shock and pleasure. Quivering and whimpering, I wove my fingers into his hair, clutching him to me as best I could with my failing strength. My limbs felt inadequate, unable to perform any tasks, jellified in this moment of intense passion.

All I could think of was Noah, Noah, Noah, and how incredible he made me feel, of how he must be aching, overcome by desire and – I blushed to consider – far more experienced than I, and yet he remained gentle.

He moaned as I did, and every lick from his eager tongue sent shivers racing down my spine. I gripped his shoulders, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. For the first time in my life, I hated clothing. It was an irritating barrier I wanted to tear through, longing to feel his skin against mine. Desperate, I slid my hand beneath the collar of his shirt, and delighted in feeling him shudder.

He pulled away and I mewed in protest, trying to pull him back to me, but he refused to be subject to my yearning as he lifted me up and laid me back onto the bed. His mouth returned to its previous seduction on my other breast, and I cried out as he devoured. His hand trailed down my belly, and, fathoming his purpose with only a brief flash of anxiety, I parted my thighs as his hand slid beneath the final piece of clothing that shielded my body from him.

His first grazed touch elicited from his mouth, still against my breast, a groan so urgent I could only feel humbled. I knew I was wet and aching, and to know such a fact was affecting him so greatly, making him shudder against me, only made me wetter. The tips of his fingers stroked me languidly, gently, and I arched my hips closer into his touch with every caress, craving more. He was controlling everything about me and I loved him for it, fisting my hands in his hair and contemplating begging for more but unable to grasp the concept of words, and the best I could do was moan.

He stiffened and then sucked hard enough on my breast to transform my moan into a sharp cry, and desperation spiraled to my center, making my body throb with the need to touch him in return… it wasn't fair that I was so bared and vulnerable to him without equal reciprocation. I was reminded of the night when we'd almost made love seven years ago, discarding clothing in turns until we were both entirely nude, and stifled a giggle that turned into another cry as Noah's fingers slipped inside of me, branding that most sacred part of my body with his touch.

I whined in protest when he pulled away entirely, leaving me feeling hollow and unfulfilled. I whimpered in disappointment at first, but then his fingers found the waistband of that last infernal piece of clothing and guided it down my legs and then off entirely, discarding it as his eyes feasted upon me, completely bare before him.

The virgin inside of me was begging me to cover myself with my trembling hands, but I forced her into dormancy and sat up, reaching towards Noah. "Your turn," I whispered, shocked to hear anything coherent come from my mouth in this moment. He moved into my line of reach with anticipation shining in his eyes, and I guided his shirt off, sighing in almost relief to see the expanse of his skin before me. I placed my palms on his chest, splaying my fingers wide before trailing then down his ribcage, memorizing each rise and fall of bone beneath flesh. It was mine. He was mine.

I slid my arms around his torso and molded my flesh to his. Chest to chest, our hearts beating together in rapid and rhythmic syncopation. He moaned and held me in return, burrowing his face in my hair. "Allie… Allie…" he spoke my name like a prayer, and how his adoration humbled me with every breath!

He lifted his face to meet my gaze and asked quietly, "Is this… your first time?"

I blushed down to my toes, a response I could not hide from him, and nodded. Lying and claiming experience seemed pointless, and if he thought I wasn't a virgin, perhaps he would be less gentle, and I couldn't handle that. I needed the tenderness he'd indulged me in thus far to last; otherwise, I might balk at the inevitable acts we had yet to perform. I didn't ask him such a question in retaliation; I could gather from the dresses in the closet of the bedroom I'd used and his deft hands, adept in their paths and eliciting pleasure from every touch that he was far from chaste. And somehow, that didn't matter to me anymore. He was mine now, and I wasn't going to let him go.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

My voice trembled as I responded, once again with the truth. "No… it's just… I want to please you." The admittance itself made me blush deeper. My trepidations were so obviously those of a virgin that I felt humiliated.

Noah's finger traced my shoulder blade before traveling down my arm to catch my wrist. Very slowly, he guided it to press against the shape of his hardness, and we both shuddered with the contact, even through a barrier of clothing. "Please me?" Noah asked, his voice thick with need, and he pressed another kiss to the crease of my neck. "Do you feel what you do to me? I am aching to have you."

My trepidations were dissolving as he granted more kisses to my neck, and curiosity took hold instead. Trembling, I closed my fingers around him and tentatively caressed the length of him. His shudders grew in power, and my body reacted equally.

Seven years ago, I reminded myself. We had been close to this once before. Why was I so timid now? So nervous? Was that natural, merely the virgin in me shining through?

But I had never touched him like this before.

He grew impatient, thrusting the harness of his ache against my bare body, and my muscles tensed when I realized the full extent of what we were going to do together. He was… big; even considering that term was embarrassing, and another blush erupted over my cheeks.

Knowing the power I could have over him as equally as he'd held over me made me brazen, and never berating the impulse, I slid my hand into the waistband of his pants, seeking a real touch. I delighted in the violent rack and shudder of his entire body, pleased to know I had this effect on him.

I was hesitant and unsure at first, but as seconds passed my caresses grew surer and lost their timidity. I concentrated on the feel of him, his every texture, and studied his responses with fascination. His breaths grew harsher with ever stroke, his stare growing hazy as his eyes drifted closed. The sound of his moans as he throbbed and grew harder in my hand was like music; I couldn't repress the smile twitching at the corner of my lips.

He was the one to end the blissful torture he endured at my hands, catching my wrist and pulling it away from his body, and I couldn't say I was altogether unpleased by that – Noah's reaction to the ministrations of my fingers had been making my body throb with violent need and I was desperate for fulfillment. "I have to have you," he gasped hoarsely, moving away from me.

I lay back on the bed and tried to recover as I listened to him disrobe, attempting to regain any strength for the next part. My anxiety was building with the knowledge of what came next, but so was my anticipation. My body tingled, feeling incomplete, as though it had lost its other half with Noah no longer pressed against it.

I grew impatient with the next throb of my body, and I drew myself up enough to see what exactly was taking Noah so long.

My breath caught in my chest to see him bare before me. I had seen it once before, of course, but my nerves had been too rampant to truly examine him with my raucous, desperate gaze… and while I knew pink was spreading across my cheeks again, I also couldn't help but think that I had never seen anything more beautiful.

My curious, innocent eyes lowered to that most masculine part of him. I took in its perfect construction with overwhelming sensation, and any breath left in my lungs fled me in that instant. How I wanted to touch him again! Why had I let him end what little I had when it had not nearly been enough?

My eyes wandered back up to his, and I blushed to be the recipient of such a look of pure and unadulterated adoration. "What's that look for?" I whispered.

"I love you," he informed me shamelessly, moving back to the bed. I wasn't afraid anymore… He loved me and I loved him and this was everything that was right. This was everything I had ever wanted.

He guided my shoulders down until I was lying back against the mattress, and he climbed onto the bed with me. With deliberate slowness, as though he was trying to torment me with the power of my own wanting, he lowered himself atop me. I experienced every inch of his smooth, warm skin against mine and let out a small cry, only the smallest fraction of my aching fulfilled to have him pressed against me once more. In a voice low and husky, Noah bid, "Spread your legs for me… yes, just like that."

Noah closed the bit of distance left between us, and I had only moments to revel in his skin, so much skin, against mine before I felt the hardened length of him nudging at my body and gasped, a manifestation of nerves and a fierce longing for him to just make us one, already. Mark me as his with scars that could not be seen…

His eyes held mine all the while, and he hesitated only briefly before I felt rather than heard him hold his breath, and he thrust deeply.

Passion faded into pain and I cried out, burrowing my face in the crease of Noah's neck to hide my telltale tears from him, my hands fisting as they clung to his shoulders as my hips dug into the mattress. I hadn't quite expected that… how unfair that the most beautiful moment of my life should be marred by the consequences of my virginity!

"Oh, Allie, Allie…" Noah whispered, laying apologetic kisses along my brow. His voice was cloudy with so much passion further tears spilled out of my eyes, and even as I concentrated on the pain it was already fading. I felt myself adjusting to his intrusion, filling and stretching me… making me whole. He remained still within me, and I knew it was killing him to do so. How he loved me! I didn't deserve it!

Noah waited for me to nod against his chest before he continued. He was gentle with me, moving in languid thrusts, and I experienced every one with him, shuddering over and over again with each. His kisses had grown urgent, as if he was trying to distract me, but they only added to the passion building in my very center and overcoming me. He moved harsher, following desire, and even though it seemed he had no intention of easing up he asked against my temple, "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

I caught his lips in a devouring kiss to grant permission wordlessly; I was growing so overcome that I couldn't possibly begin to fathom speaking. Nerves had been incessant seven years ago; there was none of that now. I only knew adoration and love and passion, all for the man I was joined with and wanted to be with forever.

"Noah!" I shouted when I felt as though I could explode with ecstasy, and everything burst into stars in a wave of passion that overpowered my every sense. I couldn't care less about anything else. There was only Noah and his body against mine and all of the incredible things he made me feel.

I had found my pleasure and he sought his own, thrusting more fiercely into my wet and willing body, and I arched to meet his every motion that rocked my body with his nearing peak.

The shout he gave as he exploded within me sent tingles down my spine, more beautiful than any sound that has ever existed before. It was better than music, even the piano, and I held onto every facet of it, engraining it to be mine forever in memory.

Seconds slipped into minutes and all we could do was cling to each other, gasping, our arms and legs entwining as, still joined as one, we held onto the bliss we'd found together, drawing it out for as long as possible.

When Noah finally disentangled, I felt my body immediately ache for him to fill it again, but that ache dulled as he pulled me back into him, embracing me tight. "Say you won't leave," he begged in a breathless whisper, holding me tighter still. "Please say this isn't all I'll ever have."

I wrapped my arms around him in return, listening to the thrum of his heart as it slowed into a comforting metronome beat. "It's not," I assured him softly, shutting my eyes. I didn't want to sleep now. I'd been sleeping all day. But exhaustion seemed inevitable and I was unable to ward it off, and I spoke the words I needed to before sleep could pull me under. "I love you. I can't leave you. I love you."

He sighed and the tension in his muscles dissolved, and I knew he believed me.

I shut my eyes, worrying in one brief instant over what would come tomorrow. I would have to leave Seabrook again, but only briefly. I had a ring to return and apologies to make, but although it would hurt me I couldn't regret them. My heart had led me home at last, and it was here, pressed flush to Noah and wrapped in his arms. If only I had followed it sooner, I could have spared us both so much pain.

But for now, this was enough, and I abandoned worry and gave myself to sleep, wrapped in the arms of the person I love so completely. Following my heart… who knew that something I had denied myself of for so long could lead me to this… perfect bliss.