This is the Arctic Monkeys I promised the other day on tumblr. I really hope you like it.

The first day they have off together when they don't need to go to York was bound to be different. She had hoped that she would still, somehow, be able to persuade him to spend it with her. She hadn't imagined they would end up as they did: sprawled, as much as her single bed would allow, quietly together on top of the dark grey bedspread in the dim light of a winter's afternoon.

The knock on the door itself had surprised her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, quickly stepping back, "Come on, get in," she told him when his eyes widened with surprise, "Before Mrs Hughes catches you."

He stepped into her bedroom, and she shut the door behind him.

"I was just wondering if you were alright," he told her, "You weren't at breakfast."

"I was having a lie in," she told him, pulling the covers of her bed back up quickly so that she could offer him somewhere to sit.

He smiled.

"Good idea," he told her, sitting hesitantly at the foot of her bed, "You've definitely earned it."

She smiled too, perching on the chair next to the wardrobe, with the dress she had been wearing yesterday draped over the back. She saw he was taking in her appearance; and that too almost made her smile. It was a sign of how far they had come; she was fairly sure a few months ago he'd have bolted at the sight of her in her nightdress, with her hair drawn back into a plait. The light from the window meant that this side of the room was much brighter than where she usually sat, and she rubbed her eyes a little.

"I'm sorry I'm so untidy this morning," she told him softly.

"It doesn't matter," he replied, "It's your day off. And I quite like it," he added, after a moment, "I'm sorry, I woke you up."

"It's alright, I was awake anyway."

He frowned a little.

"Were you?" he asked.

She realised she wasn't falling anyone, she didn't exactly look at her most alert.

"Well, nearly,"" she conceded.

He smiled ruefully and she grinned again.

"Thank you for coming to see me," she told him after a moment, "I was thinking how strange a day off that I didn't spend with you would be."

"I meant to ask you last night if there was anything you wanted to do," he replied, "I don't know, I didn't seem to get around to it before you wanted to go to bed."

"It's alright," she told him, and then, after a moment's consideration, "We don't have to do anything specific. I'm just glad you're not fed up of spending time with me after all those days in York."

"And just stay here, you mean?" he asked her.

"Well, why not?" she asked him softly, "The most dangerous part is definitely over- you're in here. If you want to stay in here with me, that is?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, "I do."

"Good," she told him, "I'm glad."

There was silence for a moment.

"I've missed being able to talk to you," she told him softly, "Too much has happened this week."

"Yes," he agreed quietly, "There's hardly been a moment to spare. Mr Carson has kept me run off my feet."

She smiled.

"I know," she replied, "Her Ladyship is much kinder with me than Mr Carson is with you."

"He's only trying to get things done properly," he responded fairly.

"I know," she told him again, "I just resent it that he can take you away from me whenever he likes."

Their eyes met. His eyes were a little wide with surprise at her remark.

"Not today," he responded after a moment.

"No," she smiled, "Not today. Thank the lord for days off!"

He smiled back at her for a moment, but it faded quickly and he was left sitting there, watching her quite seriously.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

"Yes," he replied.

"You look a little bit sad," she told him softly, leaning forwards a little.

"Trust me, I'm not," he replied.

"Alright," she replied, "I trust you. That's good."

She had leant forwards into the line of the sun, beaming through the window, and she squinted a little bit. When she saw that he still looked a little bit out of sorts, she asked him:

"Would you mind it if I came and sat next to you?"

"It's your bed," he pointed out, and she got up, settling herself cross-legged on the bed before him, close to him.

He half-turned to look at her. His body, somehow, seemed to relax into her near presence, and that reassured her somewhat. She watched him carefully for long moments, her heart beating steadily, weighing up her options.

"I want you to tell me if anything I do isn't alright," she told him quietly.

He looked a little puzzled, but when he answered "Alright," his voice sounded perfectly natural.

Leaning forwards once more, she touched his face, cupping his cheek in her palm, pressing her lips softly to his. His eyes fell shut as she kissed him, and remained like that, as if concentrating intensely, even when she drew back a little.

"Are you alright?" she asked him carefully.

His eyes opened.

"Why on earth wouldn't I be alright?" he asked her, and she smiled up at him, "I've wanted you to do that for a long time. Or rather, I've wanted to do that."

"Why didn't you then?" she asked him, her arms draping around his neck, languidly but also securely.

"I couldn't work up the nerve," he admitted, "I didn't know if you'd want me to."

She was still smiling, looking at his mouth, thinking how surprisingly soft his lips were. Her eyes flitted back up to meet his.

"Is there anything else you want?" she asked him plainly.

He waited half a second. And then he answered:

"I want to be yours."

And her heart skipped a beat.

Please let me know what you think.