So...apparently I can't go more than a few days without writing/posting fanfic. Here we go again. :)
The realization came in bits and pieces, not all at once. When he showed up to answer her phone call in person, that was something. Not everything, but a beginning at least.
But she didn't dare make any assumptions. Sure, he used to like her. Love her even….maybe. But did he really know her then? Or was he just enamored with some fabricated construct he had built in his mind? Now that he knew her….every abrasive, judgmental aspect of her personality…how could he possibly still care for her?
And now she knew that it mattered to her how he felt. It mattered so, so painfully much. As long as he wasn't there she could imagine that maybe something had been happening between them. His absence might leave an aching hole in her chest, but at least there was the possibility, the hypothetical universe where she hadn't screwed up her chance with someone who might very well have been the perfect guy for her. Once he came and talked to her, there was no more room for hypotheticals.
And now he was here, his expression guarded as always, inscrutable. Coming here was a significant gesture, but what significance she couldn't say. No assumptions, not when she had been so wrong before.
He was kind, and courteous. Even when she was so flustered that nothing came out her mouth but nonsense. How could she be anything but flustered, sitting beside him, their arms just barely touching, trying not to get caught gazing at him? She had spent an embarrassing amount of time re-watching the videos from Pemberley, just to look at his face, and now he was here in person and it was a thousand times better but also terrifying. Yes, she was actually trembling.
He said he did it for her. Her heartbeat hadn't really been normal since he entered the room, but now it was fairly galloping. She wanted to follow that revelation to its natural conclusion, but she quailed. Resisted the urge to hope. The stakes were too high.
They weren't even friends. Did he want to be friends? Was that even possible for two people who never did anything by halves? He used to be in love with her, or something like it, and she could not imagine him calmly taking it down a few notches to friendship. More likely, he pitied her.
And she had swung wildly from hating the very idea of him – an idea fraught with misconceptions and unfounded prejudices and just plain stupid stubbornness – to whatever this crazy, dizzying need was. Maybe love, though she reeled from that, refused to acknowledge it. But friendship? She had skipped right over that.
Maybe there was no way to have him in her life anymore. Too many bridges burned. She sat there in a miserable stupor, and then he spoke again.
He felt the same way. What did he mean – back in the fall? That was when – and he said –
More strongly even than he did then.
The pieces began to come together, and gave her the wild resolve she needed to let down all her barriers and put it all out there.
She didn't think there would be any room for doubt, one way or the other, after she kissed him, but somehow he managed to confuse her still. His lips were warm and responsive, but he sat stiffly, not really moving, as if he were stunned. At once exhilarated and petrified, she broke off and asked another flustered, hesitant question.
After the second kiss, she didn't have any more doubts about his feelings.