Don't even ask how this came to be. I don't even know where the first half of this chapter came from. It just kind of… happened. So now this chapter is like extremely long. But I'm kind of in love with it. I actually adore the way this turned out. And I hope you do too.

I didn't read over this, so I apologize for any mistakes or grammar errors.

Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi or the song Love. Sex. Riot. But I do own the beer Eli loves to consume.

6. Write her a letter in which the amount of circumnavigating and angst could rival Mr. Darcy's. Debate where to leave it all day – on her pillow? In her coat pocket? Throw it away in frustration, conveniently leaving it face up in the trashcan, her name scrawled on the front in your sloppy handwriting. Let her wonder if you meant it.

When Eli had left her a message telling her to come over, Clare figured they would be spending all night watching movies and laughing at Eli's remarks, sharing little kisses here and there. But the minute she stepped through the door she knew that was not the case. He had called her for a different reason.

He needed her.

She walked over to the couch and stared down at Eli who was face first in one of the cushions. She tilted her head slightly and watched him for a bit before taking a quick look around the room. The TV was left on and there were bottles of beer lying on the coffee table and floor; one was even twisted between his lanky fingers.

"Eli," she whispered softly. She placed her hand on his shoulder but he didn't budge.

"Clare," he muttered back into the pillow, though he stayed still.

"Eli, come on. Sit up."

He sighed heavily but obliged, rolling onto his side and pushing himself into an upright position, making room for her on the couch. She noticed his hair was a complete mess, which made her to believe that he had been pulling on it recently. He looked very stressed and tired and worn out.

When she sat down next to him she grabbed the beer from his hand and placed it on the coffee table. Turning her head, she looked back at him and noticed he had his hands covering his face, and that's when she saw it.

"Jesus Christ, Eli. What the hell happened?" She asked, grabbing his hand from his face and examining his bruised and bloody knuckles. He hissed every time she touched them, cursing softly under his breath when she began cleaning them up. Once they were cleaned and clear of any blood, she looked at him sternly and he knew it was time to explain.

"I got fired today," he explained. She closed her eyes and asked why. He continued, "I was walking by a co-worker's office when I noticed he was fighting with a woman. They were yelling and screaming at each other but I couldn't pick out what they were saying. Anyways, I was just about to turn and leave when he slapped her. He had fucking slapped her across the face, Clare."

Clare had opened her glossy eyes to look at him and frowned because she had a feeling something bad was about to be explained. "What happened?"

"Impulse kicked in and I walked over to him and punched him square in the nose. And I got fired for it."

Clare noticed just how sad he looked and her heart broke. They both knew it was unfair that he got fired for defending someone, but they couldn't really fix it right then anyways. So Clare had decided all she could do right at that moment is to try and make him feel better by getting his mind off of it.

Now, they lay on the couch as a movie plays, shining some light in the dark room. Eli has his arm around Clare as they're facing the TV screen, her hand clutching onto his; the one that wasn't painfully hurting and possibly broken, of course. They are watching one of Eli's favorite shows called Ridiculousness and they're laughing extremely hard, even though Clare feels bad for laughing at other people's pain. But she has to admit that it's very hilarious how some people are so stupid to even attempt half of the stunts shown.

She notices his breathing is getting softer and decides to turn around in his arms to face him. His eyes are closed and she adores the way he looks so peaceful. She knows he's not sleeping because he's pulling her closer to him and nuzzling his nose against hers. She reaches up and tangles her fingers in his hair, taking notice of the small smile gracing his lips as she plays with the strands.

"I fucking love it when you do that," he whispers softly, and she smiles because he just made a curse word sound beautiful.

She responds by pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth, which is a good enough reply for Eli. He shifts his head to the side and their lips touch, pressed against one another ever so softly and neither one of the two make any movement.

Until, Clare speaks.

"Move in with me," she breathes, her lips ever so softly grazing his.

His eyes open to look at her. He doesn't look at her with shock or surprise; he looks at her lovingly with tenderness in his shinning eyes. He already knows his answer but the way she's biting her lip makes him prolong the silence. He watches her eyelashes flutter in waiting and listens to her heart beat, which is beating faster than usual.

"Will you play with my hair?" Eli whisper asks. He's counting down the seconds he has until he could kiss her.

"Every night," she answers.

He sighs contently, "Okay."

She kisses him and he feels ecstatic because it's a we're going to be living together kiss. He feels a bit surprised when she kisses him longer than necessary and even longer than that. She keeps kissing him and he holds her until they break for air. This time he kisses her and she's the one unraveling into the feeling now because it's a I know your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. And God does he ever. He's kissing her the way she loves to be kissed. Their tongues are a tangle of muscles, fighting for dominance, creating a small war. His lips are hungry for hers and she's more than happy to fulfill their hunger, kissing him back with such passion that he moans into her softly.

His hands are all over her. Her back, her sides, her legs; he can't get enough of her. And by the way her hands are pulling him closer she seems to feel the same way about him. Somehow she had moved to straddle him, her hands cupping his face as they kiss. The goose bumps start to form on his skin the second that his left hand meets her waist. The kiss slows down suddenly and it's not long before Clare is pulled away completely.

"I'm going to go take a shower," she says nonchalantly.

Hopping off of Eli and making her way to his bathroom, she hums softly. He lays there with heavy breathing and a confused expression; what the hell just happened?

But then his brain starts working again and he smirks to himself. He listens as the water is turned on and waits a few minutes before getting up. He takes his time walking towards the bathroom, playing out in his mind what he plans on doing to her. When he makes it to the door of the bathroom he pushes it open, realizing that it wasn't even fully shut to begin with. He smirks when he sees her clothes on the bathroom floor and steps inside fully, closing the door softly.

She humming a song and he listens as he undresses himself. Once he's fully nude he pulls the curtain back slowly and steps in, the warm water hitting his feet. Clare turns to face him, a small smirk playing at her lips as he eyes her wet curls. She steps closer to him and his arm instantly wraps around her waist and they turn in a circle until the water is hitting his back. She pushes him back softly until he's standing under the water fully, his hair and face getting covered with water. She watches him with hungry eyes and admires his defined body. His jaw is sharp and alluring, his chest is chiseled in all the right places, his stomach kissable, and when her eyes land on his lower half, she moans internally because my God he is perfection.

"Took you long enough," she says, and his eyes snap open as he steps out of the water, roughly pushing her against the tile wall. He tilts his head and looks at her with dark, lustful eyes as the water pounds at his back. She grabs one of his hands and brings it to her chest, sliding it down between her breasts, over her stomach and continues south until his hand is pressed firmly against the place between her legs. "Touch me, Eli."

He lets out a small humph before he removes his hand from her and turning away from her. She frowns until she notices what he's doing; he's turning up the hot water and adjusting the head of the shower so it's hitting her. He steps back in front of her and places his hand between her legs again, igniting a gasp from her throat.

"Only because you asked nicely," he replies and slowly begins rubbing her.

Her hands move to wrap around his neck and she feels the hot water hit her hands and feet, though it's not nearly as hot as her core feels. He's teasing her with slow rubs and soft kisses to her neck; she feels like she's burning and the fact that he's whispering naughty things into her ear is not helping, either.

Then, she gets an idea. She lets his little ministration continue for a few seconds more before she reaches down and grips him in her hand. His whispering and slow rubs halt to stop briefly as she begins moving her hand slowly before he picks up the pace. She's smiling and he realizes that he had been out smarted, though he doesn't have time to care because she's touching him in incredible ways.

But he has a plan.

He pulls his hand away from her and she whimpers, but he doesn't stop to explain. She watches as he gets down on his knees and licks her lips when he lifts her leg so her foot is on the edge of the tub, giving him access to her most sensitive area. He leans forward and licks between her folds slowly, his hands places firmly on the inside of her thighs, keeping them open. His lips and tongue and teeth are all over her and she's struggling to stay standing. He's a wizard with his tongue and she wonders how he expects her to stand throughout this little action.

Her fingers tangle in his wet hair and he moans against her when she tugs at the strands, earning himself a moan from the woman above. She tilts her head back against the wall, her breathing heavy as he does wonders with his tongue and teeth. This is too much for her. Her hips are rocking against his face and he doesn't mind one bit because the noises she is making are music to his ears.

"Fuck, Eli," she curses and he stifles a laugh. She pulls on his hair and he grunts, looking up at her. "Stop, stop, just stop."

He pulls back and gives her a curious look but she ignores his look and moves to turn the water off. Eli stands up and she watches the water drip down his face as she steps in front of him. She leans close to his face and reaches down to wrap her hand around him, squeezing softly, earning a whimper from the man in front of her.

"Fuck me."

He's quick to pick her up and step out of the tub, hastily bringing her to his bedroom and roughly throwing her on the bed. He climbed on top of her and smirks, uncaring about the fact that his bed is getting wet from the both of them. She pulls him down to kiss her; it's rough and harsh and needy and Eli's having difficulty keeping his thoughts intact.

He pulls away, "I've sort of always wanted to fuck you to a certain song, but I never brought it up because I thought you wouldn't like it."

She laughs, "Eli, put the goddamn song on and fuck me before I lose my fucking mind."

Eli smirks and raises his eyebrows, "No need to get so vulgar."

He's quick to find his phone and place it on the doc, turning up the volume and putting the song on repeat before he returns to her. The beginning of the song Love. Sex. Riot. by Issues plays through the speakers and Eli's eyes darken. Her eyes are closed as he crawls up her body, placing kisses along the inside of her thighs, her hips bones, her stomach, between the valley of her breasts, her collar bones and her neck, her breathing hitching with every kiss. The screaming through the speakers fills their ears as he lifts his head to look her in the eyes, his hands running up and down her sides. Leaning forward, she kisses him harshly, her hands gripping the sides of his face. His hands hold her hips in a bruising grip as their tongues dance and teeth clash.

Once the chorus hits Eli pulls back to sing it, his lips grazing hers with every lyrics. She's smiling and holding him close because he looks amazing with his hair wet. His voice is heaven on earth and she can't get enough of it. She's watching his lips as he sings and he's watching her eyes, loving the way she looks like she wants to jump his bones but doesn't because she loves what he's doing. The screaming resumes and Eli digs his head into her neck, his hands gripping her ass and pulling her closer. Her nails are digging into his back as she breathes into his ear, knowing very well how much it turns him on.

He pulls his head back to look at her and there isn't enough time for him to blink before her lips are on his. It wasn't even a full kiss before she pulls back to mutter against the flesh of his neck, "You're so sexy."

He smirks and rolls them over so he's on his back as she straddles him. The chorus returns and Eli begins singing once again, ginning at Clare because he knows the effect it has on her. She's staring at him with admiration as her hands roam his body, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. Her lips find his neck and he closes his eyes while continuing to sing along to the song blasting through the speakers. But then she does that thing with her teeth and he's moaning and she's rolling her hips against his, absolutely loving the skin on skin contact.

"My God how is it possible for someone to be this sexy?" She asks when she looks at him.

He chuckles and smirks lazily at her, "I could ask you the same question."

Before she has a chance to respond he has already rolled them back over, her legs wrapped around his waist as he rests between hers. He presses his lips to hers to stop her from saying anything more and internally smiles because by the way she's pulling at his hair she doesn't seem to care. He touches her neck and she touches his, her nails scratching his flesh.

They part and she's looking at him with such want and need that he's lost on what to do, other than rolling his hips into hers. She's moaning and touching him and – oh, oh.

Oh my God she's begging. She's begging him to fuck her senseless and he's unsure of what to do. His throat is dry and his palms are sweaty. But when his brain picks up on the lyrics to the song he realizes that there's no need to be nervous, because she wants him and there's no fucking doubt in his entire being that he wants her, too.

"Please," she pleads and he caves.

He fills her slowly and she grins and moans, her legs tightening around his waist. He places one hand on the bed beside her head and the other on her hip, moving his hips back and forth slowly. Her eyes find his and he doesn't have the will to look away, so he watches her watch him as he moves inside of her. He slows his pace and rolls his hips into her, earning a loud moan from her lips. He's mouthing the words to the song that continues to play on repeat and picks up his pace, letting himself fall onto his other hand, resting on his forearms. Clare looks at him and he moves faster, his hips meeting her over and over again at an erratic pace.

He leans down to press a kiss to her neck, whispering, "You're so fucking wet."

His fingers begin rubbing her as he pounds inside her with jack hammered thrusts, and she arches into him.

"Oh fuck," she moans, her head pushing back into the bed.

Clare's going insane; his body feels amazing next to hers and she can't control her moans. She's falling deeper and deeper into the pleasure Eli Goldsworthy brings and never wants to come out of it. She watches his lips as he mouths the words of the song and one lyric catches her attention; it's like I'm burning inside when you spit my name. When Eli moans her name she's on top of the world. She's burning with a desire that longs to consume them both so she never has to be away from him. Because there's something breathtaking about the way he says her name. And when he moans her name, she doesn't know if its fantasy or reality.

"Fuck, Clare," he moans and she pulls him down to her, pressing her lips to his. She kisses him hard, urging him to finish them off right then and there. And he accepts that challenge, moving his hips faster and harder than before. Their lips separate though Clare's hands are linked behind his neck, holding him there with their foreheads pressed together. Their breathing in each other's air as they feel their finish approaching.

She feels it and her face twists with pleasure as she wonders how it only keeps getting better and better with him. He bites his bottom lip when he feels his closeness, his eyes closing as he puts every ounce of energy he has left into helping her finish with him.

Stars.

They're seeing stars.

She's screaming his name and he's moaning hers, his hips moving for just a few seconds more to help ride out their orgasms. He collapses on top of her, feeling defeated and drained. Their breathing is heavy as they lie there, unraveling in the feeling of their high.

And then there's laughter.

Clare's laughing and can't seem to stop, which alarms Eli. She looks at him and continues laughing because he's so beautiful and he makes her feel beautiful and what they just shared was so beautiful. He's confused and scared, wondering if she's laughing at him; what's so funny? Why is she laughing? Why can't she stop laughing?

She notices his distress and pulls him up to kiss her, wanting him to know that that was magnificent.

"Eli, you're fucking incredible. Please don't ever forget that."

And because she told him not to, he wouldn't.

They had decided to lie in his bed for the rest of the night, talking, laughing, smiling and cuddling. A few kisses were shared here and there, along with little words of appreciation. Eli let his phones music play as they enjoyed each other's company, and before either of them knew it, it had gotten pretty late. Clare was dozing off in his arms and he felt quite exhausted, also.

So why hadn't he fallen asleep yet?

"Clare?" Eli whispers softly, trying to see if she's asleep or not. She doesn't respond and he takes that as his answer. She's asleep.

Carefully, he slips his hand out of hers and unwinds himself from her, slowly climbing out of the bed. He finds a pair of pajama bottoms and pulls them on before quietly walking out of the room. He makes his way to the kitchen deciding that a cool glass of water may be able to calm him down. He's not sure why he's still awake at this hour and it's very aggravating for him. But then his thoughts start racing and he bites his lip.

Eli walks over to his desk and sits in the spinning chair, sighing as he leans back. He clicks his tongue and spins in a circle once, groaning in annoyance. His mind won't shut up and he knows the only way to shut it up is to pick up a pen and pour his heart out onto a blank piece of paper; either that or to the girl sleeping peacefully in his bedroom.

He picks up the pen.

He begins scribbling down the words of his heart in his scratching handwriting, spilling every thought onto the piece of paper. He reaches deep into his soul and lets the words flow as he thinks about the woman he loves. She's all he sees. And throughout the letter he debates on where to put it when he's done. He could put it in her coat pocket and she could find it on her way home. He could put it in her purse where she could find it when she reaches for her keys. But before he could decide, he realizes that everything he feels he is unable to fit onto this piece of paper. Writing his feelings down on paper is a cowardly way of telling her how much she means to him. And he's angry at himself because he thought he would be able to get away with it.

So he crumples the paper up and holds it in his hand for a moment. He thinks for a second before he opens up the piece of paper and re-reading what he had wrote. He sighs and hangs his head as he moves his hand over the garbage can and letting the letter drop, deciding it'd be best to just forget about it and return to bed. But just as he turns to leave his elbow hits the glass of water and it spills. He curses, picks up the glass and grabs large amounts of tissue before cleaning up the spilled water. He sighs and places more tissue's over the water and decided to leave it till morning; he's too tired to care right now.

The next morning Clare finds herself waking up before Eli. He's out cold; eyes fluttering and lips parted and a small pool of drool near his mouth. She giggled softly to herself and crept out of bed slowly, making her way to the shower. She didn't get to fully clean herself yesterday with Eli distracting her.

Once she was squeaky clean and feeling fresh she walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body. She pulled on one of Eli's shirts and her panties; she loved wearing his shirts because they smelled like him. When she turned around she noticed Eli was still sleeping and decided not to bug him. Using the towel that was around her body to dry her hair she walked out of his room, making her way into the kitchen. That is, until something caught her eye.

She noticed that the papers on his desk were disheveled, appearing to be wrinkled, and an empty glass was sitting on the desk top. Had he gotten up in the middle of the night to write? She shrugged to herself and reached for the glass, noticing there were damp tissues everywhere. Realizing he must've spilled the water she picks up the tissue and turns to throw them in the trash, but stops. Because there's a piece of paper with her name scribbled on the top in the trash.

Putting the tissues and glass aside, she leans down to pick it up and flattens it on the desk. It's very wrinkled and his handwriting is messy, though she's able to pick out what it say.

Dear Clare,

Normally, if I were as smart as I pretend I am I would be snuggled up in bed with you, holding you close and dreading the morning when I would have to let you go, but I'm not and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for it because I want to spend as much time with you as I can, but my mind won't shut up long enough for me to enjoy any moment that I have with you. That came out wrong. I do enjoy being with you, very much, but right now my thoughts are a racing and I can't stop them because… I need to tell you something. I need to tell you how I feel about you. I want you to know how you make me feel.

I want you to know that every time you look at me I can't breathe. Your stare is breathtaking and I'm the sucker that gets the wind knocked out of him every time it lands on me. When the light hits your eyes I can see the specks of gray hidden in those ocean sea blues, holding all of your secrets that I crave to unlock. I want to know you inside out and your eyes are the doors I can't seem to get past.

I want you to know that every time you hold my hand I freeze because it's such an intimate gesture and I get butterflies. Seriously, I'm not even kidding. Sometimes you aren't even looking at me when you do it, but I look at you to see if you get the same effect. But you don't seem to be fazed by it, so I keep quiet.

I want you to know the power your lips have over me. You can get me to do anything, as long as you say it with those pink plump lips. They're so soft. And when you smile they're the only things I want to look at, other than your eyes, because, my God, are they beautiful. And when you kiss me I am unable to think because you've poisoned me with the touch of those precious lips of yours. And every time I don't want to stop, in fear it'll be our last kiss. And that's terrifying.

I want you to know that you're fucking beautiful to me. Every single part of you. Whether it's your dorky laugh or the way you love to have your hair curled or the freckles on your nose or the way you lose yourself in a song or the way you speak or the way you dance every time you're cooking; you're incredibly beautiful to me, inside and out. And I'm going to tell you a secret love of mine; I love to watch you. When we go on walks and you're watching the stars; when you're trying to decide what to order at restaurants; when you're reading, writing, watching TV or even sleeping, because you're so beautiful that I can't handle it.

I want you to know how excited I am to be moving in with you, because I am. I'm fucking ecstatic knowing that I'll be able to wake up to your lovely face every single day and kiss your wonderful lips every night.

Clare Diana Edwards, I want you to know that I'm absolutely and undoubtedly in love with you.

Yours truly, Eli.

She's crying. She's crying and clutching her chest because she has never felt more loved in her entire life. Eli Goldsworthy has spilled his heart onto this piece of paper and it is all about her. And she realizes that he has no idea the effect he has on her. He has no idea how she feels when he caresses her cheek or grazes his lips on her ear to whisper something sweet in it or looks at her with those delicious green eyes of his.

He doesn't know that, secretly, she watches him too.

But she wonders if he actually means it. He did throw it away, after all.

And then, from the room behind her, she hears him calling her name.

A/N: Hey, since I love this chapter so much, mind reviewing and telling me what you thought? It'd mean SO much to see how you guys felt about this.