Author's Note:

Sorry this took so long! I found it so hard to get Erik and Zoey to talk! In the books, most of the time they make up after their fights by quoting plays and talking about old books, (along with some intense making out :-D)!

Another long chapter here- I just couldn't end it when things looked so grim in the middle.

I realized that to make this story work the way I want, - as much as I'm a Stark girl – I need to fall in love with Erik, too. I'm getting there :-).

**Disclaimer: Still just playing in the House of Night playground...


Erik pulled back slightly to look in my eyes, his hands still cradling my face. His beautiful blue eyes held the kindest, most gentle expression I'd ever seen. A sob ripped out of me and I cried harder. I just couldn't process his expression – wasn't he supposed to be calling me a slut by now? Wasn't he going to push me out the door?

His expression hardened instantly into the mask that I feared and despised. He dropped his hands and moved to stand up. "Sorry that was so…unpleasant for you," he spat.

"What? NO!" I cried. I lurched for him, totally ungracefully, and managed to catch his arm.

"What, Zoey?" He snarled. His eyes were hard and his face was full of contempt. He pulled his arm out of my grasp and I nearly fell over, catching myself on the carpet. I let myself stay there, hunched over and crying.

Please no. What went wrong? For just a second I had my sweet Erik back.

"P-p-please," I stammered, trying to talk through my blubbering. I wasn't even sure what I was trying to say.

"What, Zoey?" Erik interrupted, "You don't have to blow me again, you already got me off."

My chest – and my throat – hurt and burned like he'd kicked me. I doubled over and swallowed, hard, to keep from vomiting. All the blood seemed to drain from me and I was crying, freezing cold, shaking, and violently nauseous. Stupid stupid stupid.

I'd begged him, and he let me take him in my mouth. He'd caressed my hair. He'd kissed me so gently that my lips still tingled with the memory. He'd looked in my eyes like he still loved me.

Then he basically told me that I was a worthless whore.

I felt ripped open, like the raven-mocker attack all over again. I wanted Erik's gentle expression and soft kiss back so bad that the wish choked me. I was sobbing so hard that I was snotting all over myself and gasping for air. My tears were falling on my jeans and soaking my thighs.

I knew I was being stupid and selfish. I loved Stark. It didn't matter what Erik said to me. It didn't matter what I felt for Erik, no matter how strong. It didn't matter that I couldn't give Erik up. I'd cheated on him. Again. I'd been stupid to think that he wouldn't hate me. I'd been absolutely arrogant to think that he'd still want me.

I tried to get my tears and sobbing under control enough so that I could at least get up and leave – right now I could barely move. I concentrated on taking deep breaths, which came out all shaky and jerky. I was actually getting embarrassed that I was crying so hard. I deserve it, I deserve it, I deserve it, I chanted in my head. This is what I wanted – to give him a chance to hurt me back. I was still stupidly surprised that it hurt so much.

It took a while – a really long while, with lots more snotting and shaking and crying - but slowly, painstakingly, I got my breathing to smooth out and the tears to stop pouring. A few still trickled down my cheeks, but at least the torrent was under control. But I was still grossly snotting and dripping tears all over myself. I desperately needed a tissue – or a handful.

I tried to look around for something to wipe my face, and tried to keep my mind blank. Every time I breathed I felt Erik's sweet kiss on my lips, and the tears kept threatening to start all over again. I focused on Erik's dark bedroom and tried not to feel.

Just like his living room, Erik's bedroom didn't give me much in the way of distractions. The lights were still off in the room, but with my fledgling night-vision, the light coming through the door was illumination enough. He had a bed, a nightstand with a lamp and few books on it, a dresser, and a little mini-fridge in the corner. (Okay, it's official: apparently everyone has one except me.) That was it. Still, no posters, still no pictures. There were more doors, to a closet and the bathroom, I assumed. He did have a dark blue comforter on his bed, but no matching or contrasting pillows – a wry thought passed through my head that his decorating masculinity was still intact.

"Would you like a tissue?" Erik asked quietly. I nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. Somehow I'd managed to not look at him - he was sitting right there on the side of his bed. He was kind of bent over, his elbows on his knees.

I hesitated, and then finally nodded. He handed me a box of tissues and I wiped off my face and blew my nose – which ended up being really loud and snotty wet and more than a little embarrassing.

Then we sat there in more silence, our breathing the only thing breaking the stillness. I ended up staring at Erik's feet. I could have turned my body so I was looking at a wall or something, but I didn't. I knew I should just leave, but even though I wasn't crying any more I was just too exhausted and I didn't want to move.

Erik took a deep breath and my eyes were drawn to him like a magnet. I saw his shoulders tense and felt my own body tense in response. He looked like he was struggling to find the words he wanted. "Was it…really…that bad, Z?" He finally asked softy.

I couldn't process his question. Our eyes connected for a second. He looked a little angry, a little hurt, and really, really vulnerable. "What?" I winced, suddenly worried that his anger could flare again.

I was relieved when he just shrugged uncomfortably. "I mean… I guess most girls don't like to… so I probably shouldn't have gotten mad…"

Sorry that was so unpleasant for you. I guess most girls don't like to… What the heck was he asking? About…in my mouth? Crap. Maybe it was horrible for him. Maybe I did it wrong. Or maybe – okay, I was getting paranoid here – maybe he was able to act around me after all. Maybe that vulnerable look was just his way of getting me to say I liked it so he could rip me open again.

But just maybe – hope fluttered in my chest – maybe he made a mistake and was trying to make me feel better.

I decided it didn't matter. I couldn't let myself hope that he still cared, and if he wanted to hurt me again, he could.

Ah, hell. I never used to be this masochistic.

I took a deep breath and look directly in his eyes. I spoke clearly, but I couldn't quite get my voice above a whisper. "I liked making you feel good."

He searched my eyes, maybe trying to decide if I was telling the truth. Then he dropped his head in his hands. "I really am an asshole," he murmured.

Confusion and relief and pain washed over me. I wished I could let myself hope.

After a long, long pause he looked up. "Are you okay?" He asked quietly. My heart caught in my throat and my tears escaped again as I heard the kindness and regret in his voice. I wanted to throw myself into his arms.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I didn't realize that you didn't know…"

He flinched, and I cringed. "I'm trying to apologize to you," he said.

My heart was beating so hard I was sure he could hear it. I shook my head, "I hurt you first."

He sighed and slid down to the floor. He opened his arms, inviting me into his embrace. His eyes were kind. I wanted to hurl myself at him, but at the same time I couldn't help but hesitate. "Please," he said – and his lips twitched in an ironic, pained, half-smile.

I didn't want him to beg. I crawled over and let him enfold me in his arms. The Goddess-given, beautiful (but dang confusing) sense of rightness absolutely engulfed me and I laid my head on his shoulder. He reached over to stroke my hair. My body trembled at his touch, and for a minute I honestly couldn't decide if I was afraid of him or getting turned on. Then I couldn't decide which was worse.

Erik took a deep, shuddering breath and I could feel his chest rise and fall and quake against the side of my body. I froze, afraid of what was coming. I couldn't bear to look in his eyes. I could feel the tension in him, but his hand kept stroking my hair with the same gentle strokes and the same slow rhythm.

He didn't say anything, and slowly I was able to relax again. Crap. Was I seriously going to jump every time he breathed funny?

I didn't trust him. Before, I just didn't trust him physically - on the whole he-wants-more-sex-than-I'm-ready-to-give-him level. But now, as much as I didn't want to blame him for lashing out at me, it seemed like I didn't trust him emotionally anymore, either. Worse, after Heath, Loren, and Stark, I couldn't see Erik ever trusting me again.

But the thought of giving up on him – on us - hurt as much as the thought of breaking my Imprint with Heath.

"What just happened?" I whispered hesitantly into his collarbone.

He stopped stroking my hair and wrapped his arms around me tightly, holding onto me like he was afraid I would disappear. Maybe he's as messed up as I am, I realized – maybe understanding him for the first time tonight. I took a deep breath and made myself relax. In response, his grasp loosened and he held me less frantically. His new hold was actually so careful, so gentle, and so sweet, that I started to feel safe in his arms. He kissed my forehead and took in a shaky breath. "I don't know, Z."

"We're really bad at this, aren't we?" I was actually kind of referring to the entire history of our relationship. I couldn't believe that all day I thought that I could just come upstairs and have sex with him and that everything would be fine and that the only person I would be hurting would be Stark. I was an idiot.

"We'll get better." His hold on me was briefly desperate again, needy. It was like he was trying to promise me and ask for reassurance at the same time.

I shifted in his arms so I could look up at him. Our eyes met, and I studied his face, following the curves and swirls of the intricate sapphire Vampyre tattoo that spread across his forehead. I shifted my gaze to his amazing bright blue eyes, which were intense and worried and kind. He was looking just as deeply into my eyes, and I wished I could know what he saw. There was no sign of the cruel, angry mask he'd shown me earlier tonight. This was my Erik. Once again, I was overwhelmed by a sweet, wonderful, (but still incredibly confusing!) sense of rightness.

But…a hundred inconvenient thoughts were going though my head. I knew I had to be totally and completely honest with him now, before this went any further. But I really didn't want to. I held his gaze, trying not to be scared. I brought my hand up and rested it on his cheek, and he turned his face slightly and pressed his lips against my palm. I blinked back the tears that filled my eyes for the gazillionth time tonight.

"I want to try. I promise I do." I told him. I tried to make the strength of my promise overwhelm any fear or hurt in my eyes. But I had to say this now, no matter what his reaction was going to be. "You are" – my voice faltered just a little – "really important to me. But…so are Stark and Heath. I know it makes me a horrible girlfriend and pretty much a skanky ho… But this is apparently my life now." I left out the whole Nyx revelation. I knew I was being selfish, but I didn't want him to agree to be with me just because the Goddess said so.

I knew I was hoping for a lot. I didn't love Erik; I loved Stark. But I felt something for Erik that seemed nearly as strong as my Imprint with Heath. I needed to know that he felt something for me, too, despite the hurtful things that I'd done and that he'd said. I suddenly remembered the time after class a few weeks ago when I'd (painfully) offered to break up with him and he'd refused – he'd even said he loved me and that we'd figure things out with Stark and Heath. Could he still mean that, now that sex was complicating everything even worse? Especially after we'd just gone another round of our disturbingly common fights – where I-screw-up-badly-and-Erik-says-horrible-things-to-me?

I'd looked down after my little speech, more than a little embarrassed to spell out the semi-pornographic, angsty teen drama my life was at the moment. I also didn't want to see Erik's eyes while he thought about what I'd just said. His body didn't immediately tense up around me, though, so I took another chance and laid my head back on his shoulder and dropped my hand to my lap. Erik surprised me by entwining his long fingers with mine.

"What does…Heath" – I could hear the distaste in his voice, but at least he didn't sound mad – "think about…me and Stark?"

More evidence that I barely knew Erik at all: I had no idea he would ask that. I struggled to find the right way to explain Heath. "Heath…doesn't know…everything." I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts better. "The Imprint really messed up things for us. I'm not sure how much of my feelings for him are from when we were dating or from the Imprint. Our Imprint is…really strong, though, but I'm worried that it's bad for him. Basically, we need to talk." I bit my lip and cringed. I was afraid I'd just said way too much – and still didn't really answer Erik's question – then Erik squeezed my hand in a way that felt…comforting.

"And you already said Stark told you to sleep with me." I tensed up, waiting for the axe to fall. But he let go of my hand and wrapped his arms around me again. He pressed his cheek against my forehead. "I'm not going to get mad again," he assured me. "I promise. I just have to know. I don't understand."

"Stark…understands," I answered, kind of evasively. Then I continued quickly, "I'll explain, I promise. Just not tonight, okay?"

"When?" he asked, still holding me close.

"I don't know -" and my mouth did that thing where it bypassed my brain again – "Sunday night?" I don't know why I said it, but I actually felt Erik smile.

"It's a date," he answered, actually sounding almost confident and kind of happy. Then I felt his smile disappear. I tensed up again and he rubbed my arm reassuringly. "I was just wondering if you'd…stay with me tonight."

I didn't exactly relax. We still really needed to talk before we had sex, right? I mean, I…had him in my mouth, but my reasons for doing it were pretty extreme, and it didn't seem to work out all that well, anyway. But if I was going to sleep with him anyway sometime soon... I was still determined to stay on the Goddess's path - as horrible as tonight had been, I would still carry out her plans...when I was ready... I didn't think he'd be mad at me if I said no tonight, but at this point, after everything, it seemed wrong and almost silly to turn him down…

Erik's body shifted around me, and before I could follow his movements he had my face cradled between his hands, his bright blue eyes looking straight into mine. "I'm not asking you to have sex with me, I swear. I just…don't want to let you go tonight." He actually smiled again, and I smiled back tentatively as I heard him kind of echo my own words from earlier this evening. I was relieved and a little hopeful that he didn't sound mad at all. He took a deep breath, "I just want to…sleep with you. Just sleep."

I flashed back to the first time Stark and I slept together – just slept – and my stomach did a weird little uncomfortable twist. Looking back on it, that had ended up to be kind of a special night for Stark and me. Could I share something that…intimate… with Erik, too? I mean, okay, I was being ridiculous. I was still planning to have sex with him sometime soon, I'd already had him…in my mouth. But sleeping with Stark had been kind of…sweet. I guess I felt like I'd be betraying Stark if I slept with Erik like that…

I looked back up to Erik's eyes and saw worry and vulnerability cloud them as I considered my answer. I couldn't stand hurting him again, not over this. I wasn't betraying Stark, I was trying to stop hurting Erik. "Of course I'll stay."

Erik looked incredibly relieved, then smiled, leaned forward, and kissed my forehead softly. His kiss was warm and gentle and sweet and it didn't bring tears to my eyes this time. For just a moment, my heart felt lighter and I felt…happy. I reached up and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him close to me. He wrapped his long arms around around me in return and enveloped me in a huge, enthusiastic hug. I felt a strong surge of hope and I let myself feel it for a moment, instead of trying to squash it like a bug.

Erik broke the hug, and I was surprised to realize that it was over too soon for me. I wanted to keep his arms around me, to keep the warmth and the pressure of his body against mine. I realized I was actually glad that I said that I would stay.

Erik got me a clean t-shirt and boxers to sleep in, found an extra toothbrush for me, and let me change in the bathroom. I washed my face, put my hair in a ponytail and tried not to look at my reflection. My face was pretty hideous, still really red and blotchy and swollen from crying. I took a few deep breaths. Tonight had been hard, but it seemed like we were doing a little better. We were talking. We weren't having sex yet. We were being honest with each other. Maybe we could make this work.

Or maybe I was still being an idiot. But for the rest of the night I was going to try to pretend that everything would be okay.

I finished and came out, and awkwardly crawled straight into Erik's bed. It wasn't very late, but I was exhausted. Erik took his turn in the bathroom. I was surprised to hear him shower, but he didn't take very long. He came out wearing a clean t-shirt and boxers, and he looked kind of…hot.

I rolled over and snuggled under the covers, trying to forget how gorgeous he was. We had enough problems without me losing my mind and jumping him just because he was so insanely good-looking. I heard him turn out the lights in the living room, and felt the weight and warmth and pressure of his body when he joined me in his bed. He seemed to hesitate, then his words floated over to me through the darkness. "Can I…hold you?"

I was suddenly tense. Not scared. Just…unsure. I usually fell asleep laying on Stark's chest with his arms wrapped around me. We fit together. Sleeping with Stark was easy. Sleeping with Erik was just…unknown. I just didn't know how to be with another man. "Okay?" I answered, not meaning for it to sound like a question.

Erik seemed to get that I was nervous, and moved slowly, letting me get used to the feel of his body next to mine. Slowly, gently, he wrapped himself around me. I was still curled up on my side with the covers cocooned around me, which turned into a kind of unintentional barrier between us. He tugged the sheets and comforter loose and I let him, and he slid in closer, pressing his body against mine. I relaxed into him and realized - with hope and happiness and sadness and guilt and confusion - that we fit pretty well together, too.

I mentally debated for just a second, then decided that, just for tonight, I was also going to try not to feel worried or guilty about being with Erik. We nestled together, and I let myself enjoy how the curve of my body fit perfectly into the curve of his. I snuggled backwards into him, and let myself savor the feeling of his warm, lean, muscular body wrapped around mine. He kissed my shoulder. His body was different from Stark's, but I was surprised at how quickly I got used to the differences. We both shifted a little, finding just the right ways to match up our bodies. When we were both comfortable, I felt Erik inhale shakily, then he hesitantly snaked his arm around my waist and up my body. Then he gently wrapped his arm around me and curled his hand around my shoulder.

I took a deep breath of my own, turned my head, and kissed his hand as gently as I could.

I laid there with him, still a tiny bit tense, but mostly comfortable and kind of happy. I realized that I was also a little turned on and that confused and worried me all over again – not to mention everything else in our relationship that I could be confused and worried about… But I made myself focus on the warmth of Erik's body, the tender way he wrapped his arm around me, the sound of his slow, steady breathing, and the sweet hesitancy in his voice when he asked if he could hold me.

Then I let myself relax, to really trust him, and to feel safe in his arms, even if it was only for tonight.