A/N: This is my first ever try at writing a story let alone writing FF. Please review and let me know if its any good :)
i own nothing, just playing around for fun.

Christians POV

"Good-bye Christian," Ana murmurs her eyelids puffy from crying and filled with what looks like hurt and pain.

"Ana, good-bye," I softly say reflecting the emotion I see in her eyes. She tears her gaze away from mine like she can't bear to look at me anymore. I don't deserve her gaze. Why would someone so innocent, so pure love me, me of all people. Someone so fucked up that could hurt someone so pure.

Oh my Ana.

The cold silver doors of the elevator slowly shut in front of me as I watch her slip away, my reflection in the cold metal staring back at me as I just stand, lifeless and numb. I notice my breathing is getting really heavy. I start to feel dizzy and stumble towards the wall beside the elevator; turning to lean my back against it. My knees feel as though they are about to give way and I slide down the wall as hot scolding tears start to stream down my face.

What the fuck! Pull yourself together Grey! You're a fucking multi-billionaire, master of your own fucking universe. You don't cry. But I can't stop. I feel…I feel…I feel so helpless, so lost.

I have no idea how long I have sat here, lost, numb. I hear the elevator beside me. Its close; I can hear it's about to reach my floor. It shouldn't be my floor, it should be our floor. Me and Ana's floor; Ana and I.

Oh my Ana.

But you fucked that up Grey, you pushed the one person who loves you, truly loves you, in all your fucked-up-ness. She loves me. She said she loves me. My heart starts beating faster. Has she come back? Does she forgive me?

I turn my head, hopeful that it's her, but I feel anger and hatred radiating towards me. I open my eyes and its Taylor. He's back. His expression changes instantly when he catches my eyes. His hard expression softens and I think I see pity in his eyes.

He knows what you do in that room Grey. He probably worked out you hurt her; he's not stupid; he's your right hand man for a reason. Your right hand man is feeling sorry for you because you're sitting on the floor crying like a baby. For fuck-sake!

"Sir?" Taylor's voice is laced in concern.

I don't answer. I just stare. I have no idea what to say to this man. If I wasn't so fucked-up I'd call him my friend. We have been through a lot together, we don't talk, and we don't need to. We have an understanding, we read people, and it's what we do. We have to in our line of work. Both our jobs require it; it's necessary.

"Sir." He says with more force, but I'm in a trance. I can't speak. I can't move. Get you're fucking act together Grey!

I shake my head as if I'm trying to clear it of the fog that is overcoming me. I need clarity. I need to focus. I'm Christian fucking Grey, CEO of Greys Enterprise Holdings Inc. not a little pussy-whipped boy crying on the floor over a girl. But she's no girl. She's a beautiful, stunning, awe inspiring woman who has put me under her spell and I can't get her out. I don't want her out.

Oh my Ana.

Taylor is now crouched down beside me. "Sir." Looking at me as if I'm some wounded animal. "Miss Steele has been returned to her apartment safely. I don't mean to speak out of turn, but maybe you need to clean yourself up. Would you like me to cancel the Charity Gala tonight?"

Fuck! I was looking forward to having Anastasia draped on my arm, showing her off to all the smug bastards who just want my fucking money. I stand, as does Taylor trying to compose ourselves from whatever fucking sentimental moment that was going on here.

"Yes. I have no intention of going to that without Miss Steele. I'll be in my room." I stalk off trying to keep my posture as the strong egotistical bastard that I am, leaving Taylor I suspect to go running off to tell Gail the latest drama. I'm no idiot. Of course they talk to each other. They wouldn't have lasted over the years that they have been together if they hadn't. They're not stupid either. They wouldn't be crossing the boundaries of the NDA, only giving each other enough information to be aware of the situation. The situation; what is the situation Grey? She told you to show her how much it could hurt, and you did.

Oh my Ana.

Fuck! It hits me like a swift kick to the guts. Why the fuck didn't she safe word! She knows what they are. All she had to do was say the fucking safe word and we wouldn't be in this situation. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

No, she didn't safe word because she was trying to do it for you. For me? Why? Why would she do that? Because she loves you, all fifty shades of fucked-up, that beautiful innocent wonderful woman loves you.

Fuck! This internal monologue is starting to really piss me off! I'm now standing in the doorway of my bedroom and as I walk towards the bed to sit I see a box sitting on my pillow with a note. I sit and take the note and box into my hands. It's a model kit of a Blanik L23 glider, the very same that I took her gliding in. Images of that morning only days ago flood my mind and it brings a smile to my face. God that woman is amazing. She makes me feel so alive, a light to draw me from the darkness that consumes me.

She MADE you feel alive Grey, she's gone now. Fuck! How could I be so stupid? You got carried away. Ok, yes I admit I got carried away but that's no fucking excuse. I've spent most of my life reading people, reading their body language. I could see she had passed her point but I kept going, I kept fucking going! Fucking hell Grey! I know better, she's the innocent here. She's the one how's new to this. I fucking pushed her and look where I am now. Fucking alone. Alone again.

Oh my Ana.

I look at my hands, not realising I have scrunched the note in my fist, my knuckles white from clenching it so tight. I open my fist and smooth out the note.

This reminded me of a happier time.

Thank you.

Ana

Oh my Ana.

It too reminds me of a happier time. How your face glowed just enjoying something simple as spending time with me. Experiencing, sharing, and witnessing one of my favourite pastimes with me. How I wish I could turn back the clock. The thought of me hurting you repulses me now. I feel nauseous just thinking about that look on her face. The words she spat are circling around in my head.

"This is what you like? Me, like this?"

"Well, you are one fucked-up son of a bitch!"

I run to the bathroom and just make it before upheaving Mrs Jones' pasta alle vongole. I sit on the cold tiled floor, my back against the wall, head in my hands. I sit trying to get my breathing back under control. I lean my head back against the wall realising we were in here only a few hours ago. I took her against this wall. I close my eyes and all I can see is the image of her short skirt hitched up around her waist as I take her. Ugh, I'm getting hard just thinking about it. Her beautiful pale soft skin, those guileless powder blue eyes, how tight she takes me as I fill her, the soft moans she makes as I pump her hard.

Oh my Ana.

Fuck! I can't bear to be in here anymore. I need a plan, I need to focus on something; work, yes work.

As I get up off the bathroom floor my eyes roam into the bedroom and catch the model kit I must have dropped on the floor in haste earlier. That's what I'll do. I'll make this. Anastasia put thought behind this gift, her love behind this gift, this gift is part of her, I will make this for her.

I will make this for me.