AN: I am so very grateful for all the wonderful reviews, follows and favs. You guys are incredible, so I've decided to not make this the last chapter. Instead, there'll be one more after this. Enjoy and as always, reviews make my day!
What do you want?
She can't believe it. She can't believe he's asking her this question and he's phrasing it this way and the dream, yes, the dream. She remembers it now. She had almost forgotten. How he had shot Tom and how he had stepped closer and how his eyes had wandered up her bare legs over her body and how it had felt. How it had felt when his dangerously low voice had engulfed her. Had challenged her. Agent Keen.
He wants an answer or some type of reaction but her mind seems to have lost the ability to think straight, to make sense of it all, to profile the man across from her. And yet suddenly, without warning, all reason seems to submerge in a wave of intrepidity. There's a storm in his eyes she can't ignore and a response on the tip of her tongue. A wistful declaration.
„I want to understand. I want to understand why I'm still standing here even though there's a voice screaming inside my head telling me to leave. I want to understand why you seem to be the only person willing to comfort me despite the things I've said to you. I want to understand why you care so goddamn much, Red. Why you're always there. I want to understand why it felt like a loss when you let go of me on the ship. I want to understand why-"
He merely has to lean forward. That's how close he is. The tiniest movement with the greatest ramifications. He can feel her heartbeat in his veins.
You might wonder at exactly what point did I become this… thing?
When his lips meet hers she's stunned. Spellbound. The words left unsaid melt on her tongue. Her eyes close on their own account. His stay open. He can't stop looking at her.
Your safety is of great concern to me.
He's angry at himself and this momentary loss of control. That's why he pulls back. That's why their closeness ceases abruptly and the questions hovering between them become unbearable.
Are you alright?
„I'm sorry, Lizzie. I didn't mean to-", he's struggling to find an excuse or an explanation but quickly concedes. Another step away from her, regaining some ground. „I'm sorry."
She watches him intently as he distances himself and fights the urge to reach for him. This isn't the time for rash impulses. Still, the whiskey… It lingers and it's intoxicating and evocative and she wishes it won't ever fade away. The taste of Raymond Reddington branded on her lips. How the hell did this happen?
„Red, if this was some weird attempt to distract me-"
He huffs dismissively, his back towards her now and his gaze fixed on the fire, and she's certain she's offended him. Something in his low voice makes her shiver. „No Lizzie. Certainly not that. A great many things, but not that."
„What was it then?"
He turns, slowly and cautiously. At what point the night had turned into this mess he doesn't know but turning back is of no use now and she had closed her eyes earlier, had she not? She hadn't tried to stop him.
And so he narrows the gap once again and she is still leaning against the wall, confused and pleading, eyes wide open. There's no physical contact, no touching, but they're painfully close. Breathing has become a luxury. Liz can hardly stand the tension when Red opens his mouth.
„Honesty."
It means nothing. It means everything. And she thinks she understands. And she reaches out to him, reaches out to this new thing between them. And her shaking fingers glide along his jaw, down his neck, over his shoulder and finally stop. Stop when she feels his heart beating nervously against her hand. And he can hide so many things and tell so many stories, but he can't conceal this. He can't feign this one true reaction, every pulsation a promise, a secret uncovered, an emotion revealed.
He stands still but remains fully and utterly focused on her movements. When she whispers his name, those three colorful letters, he almost comes apart. He inhales deeply.
„Do you remember what I said to you during our first meeting?" he finally asks. His tone some kind of puzzle she can't solve.
She pauses and withdraws her hand because she doesn't understand what he's getting at. What he's trying to say. And he simply looks at her and then his lips are near her ear and it's the only thing she can focus on and he knows it, too. He's trying to stay in control while she is on the verge of losing it. It's a dangerous game they're playing, calculating each move, competing for the upper hand. He smiles against her.
„I think you're very special."
And somehow all walls collapse. He leans back and this time her lips meet his and he deepens the kiss immediately and her body is pushed against the wall and she pulls him impossibly close and she's virtually trembling and he's practically coming undone and his hands are in her hair and their breaths are colliding. It's desperate and urgent and needy. Some sort of chemical reaction they can't define. The fusion of opposites.
It lasts as long as they can handle without fully letting go, without overstepping that one final line, and when they break the contact they miss the sensation instantly.
Minutes pass and they study each other's expressions, maybe trying to find some evidence of regret but unsuccessfully so. At loss for words, unable to put a label on what just happened between them.
It is Red who finally moves and kisses her cheek longingly before stepping away.
„I think I need another drink," he says calmly while grabbing his glass off the table. „And I think you should stay the night."