Love me at last, or if you will not,
Leave me; Hard words could never as
These half words.
Grieve me:

Love me at last or leave me
Love me at last, or let the last word uttered
Be but your own;
Love me, or leave me as a cloud, a vapor

Or a bird flown.
Love me at last I am but sliding water
Over a stone

-Alice Corbin Henderson

Chapter Nine: Broken Dolls

It was utter chaos. People seemed to be screaming at her, faces blurred past her as anyone and everyone tried to get a hand on her to make sure she was alive and well. Honestly, it was extremely aggravating.

No one was listening to Victoria's repeated insistence that she was fine. She had to absolutely yell at someone who was demanding they carry her back into the palace like she was dying.

Yes, Victoria's arm did hurt. The Doctor had been sent for near half an hour ago, and while she was not a fan of being wounded by a bullet, she was also positive she was not in any imminent danger of losing consciousness or dying, Her legs were still quite functional.

Men in red uniforms formed a wall around her as she ascended the steps of the palace, met by her mother and Sir John asking wildly what had happened. Lehzen and Harriett were trailing behind, Lehzen having recovered from an assault of tears and Harriett with her hair falling out of place after bodily protecting her Queen in the carriage.

Victoria was quite grateful for their sacrifices. The fact that while they were her ladies their lives were placed in near as much danger as her own, was almost as shocking as the revelation that her own life was not immune to violent threat.

Another hand grabbed at her, and she swatted it away impatiently. "Leave me be, I can quite walk on my own!" She commanded for what felt like the hundredth time in the past twenty minutes. Victoria felt her body start to betray her, shaking with a sudden chill passing through her. The relative safety of her palace had settled over her, allowing her mind to absorb what had happened, and she needed to escape to the privacy of her bedchamber.

Her mother attempted to follow her, crying and causing more drama than the situation warranted. Victoria pushed her away impatiently, begging of her to leave her be until attended to by a physician.

Unwilling to fight with the guards to stop following her, she acquiesced to their silent sentry taken up by her door as she entered the room. She would not openly admit it at the moment, but their presence did make her feel more secure.

Immediately, women were flocking into her room with warm water and clean linen. Victoria sank onto her bed and allowed deft fingers to release her from her blood soaked gown, stripping her down to her underclothes and corset. Warm water was run over her open wound, and she started down at it, finding that her eyes could not tear away from it.

The bullet had only just caught its target, taking with it a sizeable chunk of flesh, but nothing more than skin and muscle. She could see her flesh, red and angry and bleeding. Her shaking became worse. Her vision was fluctuating in waves of bright colors and blackened edges, and she became overwhelmed with the need to be sick.

She gagged, hand to her mouth, and a basin appeared before her by a helpful hand belonging to a blurred face she couldn't place at the moment, but she accepted it happily as she dispensed of her breakfast.

"She has gone into shock," a male voice stated with authority. The doctor, Sir James, had arrived she noticed. He issued instructions that barely made sense to her swimming head. Feeling her body being laid back, she allowed the gentle manipulation. Fingers began probing her wound.

She opened eyes she had not realized she had closed, and stared at the physician. "Well?" She asked with as much authority she could muster, asking for her prognosis.

"Your majesty has sustained a minor wound. It will be easy to clean, but the stitches will be painful."

She nodded, taking deep breaths to prevent another roll of nausea. Her chills were subsiding and she was not quite so dizzy now that she was lying down. With her uninjured arm she waved over the first person she saw. A petite woman that was holding precisely cut strips of linen came to the bedside, dropping into a deep curtsy. Victoria did not recall ever seeing this girl, and realized she must not normally work outside of the kitchens.

"Keep me informed," she stated to this girl. When she was only met with a confused look, Victoria grunted with the effort of ignoring the tugging at her injury. "No one has told me what happened; I need to know, and I want to know what is being done about it. "

The girl having understood her instructions, left quickly to carry out her task. Sir James paused in his ministrations. "Perhaps her majesty would like some wine… or brandy?" He suggested, his words weighted with implication. He was going to start sewing her flesh back together, like a broken doll.

Victoria nodded, grateful for his suggestion. "Brandy."

The requested drink was brought to her, and she tossed it back in a rather un-Queenly manner, holding the glass out to be filled with more. This one she sipped on, and after a few moments when the warmth of liquor spread throughout her, she indicated to Sir James that he may begin.

And he had not been lying she he told her it would painful. She did her best not to cry out, and wished that the room would empty out and leave her to suffer with only the necessary witness of her doctor.

She waved her hand in a dismissive manner towards the door, and most understood her intention to be left alone in her suffering. The ladies filtered out through the open doors into her sitting room. Victoria followed their paths, tears brought by pain leaking out of the corners of her eyes, which met the burning gaze of Lord Melbourne.


It was utter chaos. Melbourne arrived to Buckingham Palace just about running up the steps to be met with a Palace come alive by tragedy. People darted two and fro, holding various items and barking commands to each other. Guards littered the place, carefully observing those coming and going. He had never seen the place so heavily protected.

His eyes met that of the Duchess who was sobbing on a sofa near by, her ever-present companion Sir John looking critically grim. His heart dropped as he feared the worse, but never the less he strode over purposefully. "Your Grace," He said with necessary address, taking care not to impatiently spill his desperate questions from his lips.

"Oh, Lord Melbourne!" The Duchess cried, looking up at him through red eyes. "It is so tragic! My 'Drina!"

"What happened?" He implored, looking around up the stairs in the general direction of her rooms.

"I do not know, no one will tell me. All I know is I hear shouting about the Queen being shot and there she was covered in blood."

"Blood." He stated horrified. His feet started to carry him away with some urgency, but not before he asked, "Is she alright?"

The Duchess waved an impatient hand at him. "Alright enough to refuse me to accompany her to her rooms."

He felt a momentary wave of relief with the confirmation that she had at least arrived to the palace conscious. He made his way up the stairs, unhindered by anyone as they all had their own tasks to carry out. The guards outside of her rooms made no effort to stop him entering, knowing who he was.

Melbourne entered her sitting room, the doors wide open to her bedchamber that was filled with women standing around a bed staring at what he could only assume to be their wounded Queen. Lehzen sat nearby, eyeing him wordlessly. He did not care much for Lehzen but was appreciative for her obvious affection and protectiveness of Victoria. He paid her no heed, standing in the doorway desperate to catch a glimpse of her, knowing full well that entering her bedchamber was too hasty.

He did hear a muffled cry, someone calling out in what he assumed was pain, and his eyes searched even harder. They did not have to search for long, as it seems the many ladies around her bedside had been dismissed. One by one they exited the room, aside from those who were strictly necessary to assist the physician, and then his eyes met hers.

Her hair was in disarray, her cheeks brightly flushed but the rest of her skin ghostly pale. But she was very evidently alive. He let out the breath he was unaware of holding in relief, noting that the doctor was only tending to her arm.

She was wincing with every tug of thread as her arm was closed. She broke Melbourne's gaze to take a sip of some amber liquid, closing her eyes against the burn of liquor and sting of stitching.

It had taken all of his self-restraint not to enter her room and go immediately to her side. She seemed to be thinking of the same thing, though she did not care to exercise the same control.

"Lord Melbourne," She called, her voice strong as she reached a hand out toward him. Unable to ignore her summons, he slowly crossed the room towards her, taking her outstretched hand and kneeling to place a kiss to it.

Her hand was cool and clammy, not at all like the radiantly warm Victoria he was accustomed to. He must have appeared worried to her, because she attempted a reassuring smile before releasing his hand for another helping of brandy.

"Ma'am," he said quietly. "I am glad to see you are alright."

"As alright as can be, at any rate." She responded, shivering at some unseen chill. She reached out for his hand again as Sir James's ministrations caused her some distress. She squeezed it tightly, and closed her eyes against the pain.

A few moments passed in quiet as the doctor finished his work. Lifting Victoria's arm he wrapped linen around and around the wound before securing it tightly. She dropped Melbourne's hand from her grasp. "I am finished, your majesty. It should heal well, but you should remain in bed for a couple days. You lost a fair amount of blood and you should drink plenty of liquids to help your body replenish it."

Victoria nodded without opening her eyes, the only indication that she understood.

"Should I send your ladies back in?" The Physician inquired, carefully eyeing the way Victoria's breaths came in rapid shallow bursts.

She shook her head, "No, thank you for your help Sir James. I need to have a private word with my Prime Minister about this afternoons events."

The Physician bowed out followed by his helpers and closed the doors, leaving the two quite alone.

Silence passed heavily between them, Victoria still resting with her eyes closed. After a few moments when he thought she may have fallen asleep, she suddenly turned to put weight on her uninjured arm, then sat up fully in bed. She revealed herself to be wearing nothing much more than her underclothes.

He averted his eyes respectfully, instead handing her the near empty glass on her table. "You should lie back down," he said without any real conviction. He knew she would do whatever she wanted.

"Where have you been!?" She demanded, ignoring his offer. Carefully, he placed the glass back down.

Cautiously considering his words, not wanting to distress her further, he said "perhaps we should talk about this another time."

"When?" She demanded. "Do I have to go out and get myself shot again just to convince you to grace me with your presence?"

He felt like she had doused him in ice-cold water. He could think of nothing to say in response, merely stared at her with narrowed eyes. Eventually he closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. "That's not fair, Victoria."

"Its true," she argued, brushing her hair out of her face impatiently. "I have close to no contact with you for days, and then my life is put in danger and you show up here like…." She trailed off, unable to tell him what he was like.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked quietly, but she did not grace him with an answer. He stared at her, relief really starting to set in now. "I was so worried for you, Victoria."

She scoffed, sinking back down into the bed. He did not miss her wince in pain. She looked away from him. "Well, I am well as you can see. You may go back to pretending I don't exist."

"Impossible."

Melbourne reached out to take her hand again, desperate for her to understand what he did not even understand himself. He ran a thumb across the top of her soft little hand, then raised it to press against his cheek. She met his eyes with his own sadness reflected in them. "I missed you," She whispered.

"I know." He responded, placing a kiss to the inside of her wrist, and then standing. He leaned over her, stroking back her hair tenderly. She looked so small and doll-like beneath her covers, hair free of its usual restraint. "I have to go. I am sure the police captain will want to speak with me, and I can't stay shut away alone in your bedchamber for too long." There was a note of bitterness in the last of his words, but they were truthful at any rate.

"Will you tell me everything?" Victoria asked, pulling her blankets closer to her, attacked by chills once more.

"Everything," he assured her with a smile.

He turned to leave, and she called after him.

"Lord M!" She paused, briefly, waiting for him to stop. "Will you come back?"

He did not turn to face her completely, somewhat scared for what he would see. His words were truthful; "I don't think I could stay away any longer." And then Lord Melbourne took his leave of his young Queen.


The rest of the day passed with Victoria sleeping through most of it, though she was awake for periods of time, enough to eat and to be updated by various people. From what she gathered the culprit, a young man of eighteen years by the name of Oxford, had been apprehended by a combination of bystanders and the royal guard.

Nothing much else had become clear, but she felt some relief that the man had been apprehended and was currently being questioned. By then end of the night she had become restless, however, and despite the recommendations by the good doctor, rang for dinner to be sent to her in her sitting room.

"'Drina, Sir James said you must rest in bed for a few days! I insist you return to your bed and allow dinner to be brought to you there." Victoria's mother had hardly left her side since Victoria relented and allowed her into her room a few hours earlier. The Duchess currently stood blocking Victoria's entrance to the adjoining room to her bedchamber.

"Mama, really." Victoria huffed, pushing her long hair back from her shoulders. She had taken it all down once she had resigned herself to being locked into her room for the rest of the day. Between her mother and the guards and the staff, she was quite entrapped. "I do not feel faint, my arm hardly even aches and I have been drinking copious amounts of water as directed by my physician. If I do not feel up to it I will go back to bed." Victoria made it sound like she was issuing a deal with her mother, when both of them really knew it was an order. She would not be forced to sit about all day and night like a bump on a log.

Pushing past her mother, she pulled on a deep purple dressing gown over her shift, tying it tightly around her waist. She sank onto a plush bench by the fireplace, picking up a book left nearby to examine it as if with the intent to read. "Kindly call for dinner for me, mama."

Her mother left her alone for the first time in what felt like an eternity to do what she did best; order people around. Victoria quickly discarded the book and looked about the room at a complete loss for what to do next. No one had bothered her with anything of import that day, assuming that she wanted rest, but in reality a diversion would be most welcome.

And as if some unknown entity heard her pleading thoughts, a diversion presented itself in the form of Mrs. Jenkins entering her rooms. Sinking into a curtsy, the woman smiled up at Victoria. "Begging you pardon ma'am. The Prime Minister is here to see you, are you well enough to receive him?"

Victoria's heart leapt with excitement, and she struggled to grasp control over her composure. "Yes, I think that would be quite fine Mrs. Jenkins."

"Would you like me to put your hair up, ma'am?" Jenkins responded, eyeing the voluminous mess of hair floating around Victoria, untamed like a lion's mane.

Victoria waved a hand offhandedly. "This is fine, I'm sure Lord M will understand as I have been forced to remain in bed all day." She rose, attempting to smooth down her hair nonetheless. "Are they important matters, Mrs. Jenkins?"

"He did not say, but he appears most grave."

Nodding, she commanded, "Send him in. We are not to be disturbed, I want to get to the root of todays events."

As Jenkins bobbed away with a quick "yes ma'am," Victoria turned away from the door, stealing herself for a moment to quell the anxiety that rose up so suddenly in her. Out there was a man who had tried to kill her in front of so many witnesses, an act that could only be called reckless. What if he had help? Were there others out there with the same terrible objective? Her hands were starting to tremble when she heard him enter.

She did not turn around until she heard a door close.

He was standing there staring at her with an almost unfocused look in his eyes. It wasn't until she took a couple steps closer that he seemed to come away from whatever thoughts had taken him captive. He crossed toward her with the intent of kissing her outstretched hand as was their custom, but she ignored the gesture. Instead, Victoria flung herself bodily at him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace.

Victoria felt him still in surprise, but after a moment's hesitation he wrapped his arms around her in return, holding her close and resting a cheek on the top of her unruly hair.

This was a truly different feeling for Victoria. They had of course engaged with each other on two previous occasions, but in those moments her thoughts and sensations had ran together in a blurred mess. She couldn't remember any one distinguished feeling, only the desperate sense that she would never be able to get enough. But in this moment, feeling his arms around her, his chest warm and solid, hearing his heart beat somewhere beneath his ribs…. It was comforting beyond belief; she never wanted to let go.

But eventually she had to, and ultimately they parted. He stared down at her, hands still resting softly on her waist. "You are out of bed," he stated in an accusing tone.

"I feel fine," She muttered, averting her eyes from his. "I am not dizzy, my arm does not hurt so much now." She felt redundant, having explained herself to her mother and two other people before him.

"You should rest," he insisted.

Victoria sighed heavily, but otherwise ignored him. She moved away, instantly regretting the loss of keeping physical contact with him. "Have you any news, Lord M?"

He nodded, but offered no other explanation. Instead, he walked over to the bench she had recently been occupying, indicating that she sit beside him with the objective of getting her off of her feet. Seeing through his motive but complying anyway; Victoria sank down on his left (so as to not brush her injured arm against him). Close enough to touch him, but just barely separated.

Lord Melbourne sighed, staring oddly at the hands she had placed on her own lap, then began to explain. "After extensive interrogation with the… man who…." He trailed off as if unable to get the words out.

"Tried to kill me?" Victoria offered helpfully.

He went on as if he had never taken pause. "It seems he is part of a group with the greater goal of abolishing monarchy and creating a total democracy, giving equal vote to all. This comes with the belief that the nobility being granted their position due to their birth is a conspiracy, that ultimately God creates all men equal. Their ideas are similar to that of the chartists, but with more… radical intentions."

Victoria nodded, understanding his words, looking far off. "So there are more of him?"

"Yes." Melbourne said curtly, Victoria noting how his fist clenched automatically.

She turned to look at him. "And they will try again?" She inquired.

There was a pause while he searched her expression for something, though she was not sure for what. Whatever he was looking for he either found or did not, but it prompted him to respond with "Not for a while I think. But we should be sure to increase your security."

Victoria stood suddenly, crossing to the window where the lights of London illuminated the night sky with a dull yellow glow. Melbourne did not follow her. "Do the people know I am well?" She asked after a few moments.

"Ma'am?"

"Has a statement been released to tell the people their Queen survived an attack on her life with little more than a minor scratch?" It came out more commanding than she had intended, her voice rising to the pitch she used when she addressed her privy council and the like.

Melbourne blinked at her, the ghost of a smile crossing his face in admiration. "No, ma'am. Not yet, at any rate. But I do think that your people will take heart to know you are unaffected, and as stubborn as ever."

She stared at him, momentarily perplexed. He was teasing her, she quickly realized, awarding him with her first real smile of the day. She walked back over towards him. "I want to reassure my people, and also show this organization or whoever they may be that I am unharmed and not intimidated by them. If they wish to air their grievances in a proper manner I will hear them, but I will not tolerate stray bullets and wild hit men."

"Spoken like a true Queen, Ma'am."

Victoria sat down beside him again, this time her knees knocked into his as she leaned towards him, grabbing his hands. "Victoria." She insisted for what felt like the millionth time. "When we are alone you can call me Victoria. I want you to."

Melbourne sighed, staring at her. "If that is what you wish, Victoria…. I find on each passing day that it is harder to refuse you than it was the day before." He reached out, fingers ghosting over her arm where, under her layers of fabric, was a freshly sewn gunshot wound. "When I feared the worst today…." He trailed off, words inadequate for what he wanted to convey to her, and instead he cupped her cheek, eyes staring into her with such intensity it felt like he was unsure she was even there before him.

She raised a hand to cover his own, closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath. Words of half formed speeches she had gone over and over in her mind came to her. Declarations of love, bargaining, pleading… none of it felt right at this moment. She had seen the desperate worry for her in his eyes and written all across his features, had felt the concern grown from love for her. He did not have to tell her, despite how badly she wanted to hear it. All she needed was to hear him say he would not leave her as he had this past week – confused and desperate and grieving for something she had barely had the chance to have.

When she opened her eyes to look at him again, his expression was open; his resolve to cling to whatever scrap of propriety and honor he had, by all appearances, left him. And she watched, some small part of her boasting triumphant, as he leaned in to kiss her; unprompted, not coerced, just because he wanted to.

Softly their lips joined, completely unlike their first two meetings. The urgency and need of before had gone, and with this kiss he simply expressed his gratitude that she was alive and well; that she was here, warm and soft beneath his hands. Victoria sighed happily, searching for something to grab onto to steady herself, and finding his hand. He still cupped her cheek, thumb softly tracing light, soothing patterns.

Moments or years or centuries passed before they parted, and he gave her an odd sort of smile. She could tell he was still in turmoil over doing what he thought was the 'right thing' versus indulging them both in what they so desperately needed.

"Pardon me, ma'am but I have your—"

Victoria and Melbourne sprung apart as if stung, Melbourne springing from his seat so fast he resembled a jack-in-the-box. Face burning, Victoria saw Skerrett standing in the doorway, her face a brilliant shade of red to match the Queens. The two women stared at each other in understanding for a moment before Victoria nodded to her.

Skerrett entered the room with a forgotten tray of ordered food, leaving it on a table nearby. Dropping into a curtsy and avoiding Victoria's gaze with admirable success, she exited just as suddenly as she had appeared.

The room was left feeling stiff and awkward. Victoria was not sure how to address what had just happened; feeling only extreme relief at who it was that discovered them situated so scandalously close together.

"William…." She started, attempting to explain. Vaguely some part of her realized this was the first time she had addressed him by his first name in person and not just in her own thoughts, but he seemed unperturbed by that fact. Really, she was worried by how rigid his muscles had become, and by the fact that he had not yet turned to face her.

Standing and making her way slowly towards him, Victoria started again. "William… it was only Skerrett. If she did not know for sure already she had reason for strong suspicion. I sent her to you at night with a clandestine letter and paid her for her discretion. I trusted her to keep our secret and I still do."

He still did not answer, only widened his stance a little as if bracing himself against some unforeseen threat. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder; he flinched and she withdrew it.

Finally he turned to stare at her with a fathomless expression. "Victoria…." He struggled for words, looking as if he were seriously torn. Poor Lord Melbourne, he could not bear the impropriety and she admired him for it. And yet, she wished he were not as good a person as he constantly proved himself to be.

"We can't do this." The words escaped his lips sounding strangled, desperate, as if every inch of him fought against the very notion he was trying to convey. "That was lucky, to be discovered by someone you trust and even then we cannot be sure she wont…. What if it had been your mother?"

"Can't. Cant." Victoria exclaimed, stressed beyond measure and at her wits end. "I do not want to hear that word, of course we can! That is not the question. The question whether you will. You say we shouldn't do this, that we should ignore everything between us as if that were possible! The past few days have been the worst of my life and the only thing that kept me together was to tell myself that my love for you was reciprocated! And yet here you are trying to push me away again! For what!? To make yourself feel better, to uphold some preconceived notion of what is right or what is wrong? How can you tell me that what I feel for you is wrong!" The words tumbled out of her, having been held in for days. He stood there, eyes widening with surprise but otherwise he did not move a muscle. She felt the tears threatening her again, and she brushed them away intolerantly, unsure if they were born of anger or desolation. He stared at her without words, his expression pained. Her tears were becoming more insistent the more she tried to ignore them and she was furious with herself of becoming so emotional when such important words needed to be said. "Don't you—don't you feel the same? If you could ignore the fact that by the sheer hands of fate I am your Queen, if you could ignore that would you be with me?" Her stare silently begged him to give her the answer she needed.

Lord Melbourne –having prided himself on always making the sensible decisions, on being able to separate self gratification and what was best for the greater good—found himself on the cusp of forgoing rationality as he stared at Victoria. She was a vision, hair down and in nothing but a dressing gown. Even her tears added to her beauty, making her eyes shine; firelight dancing in their reflection. Nevertheless, seeing her so distressed made him prepared to lay down anything she asked from him. He closed his eyes tight, thinking that if he could stop staring at her it would clear his thoughts for a moment, but to no avail. She had succeeded in breaking him. He couldn't deny her anymore, and honestly, it was easier not to.

"How?" He whispered, opening his eyes once more to stare at her. "We cannot marry, how are we to be together?"

Hope crashed into Victoria, but she did not move a muscle, as if trying not to spook a stray cat she was attempting to lure towards her. Taking a deep breath, she responded, "It wont be easy. And as for the marriage part…" she was wringing her hands with anxiety, unsure how to phrase the next part of her statement. "As for marriage, I will do everything I can to discretely inquire about the possibility. "

He looked at her, shaking his head with incredulity. "It is not possible."

"You don't know," some sharpness returning to her tone reminiscent of her 'Queen Victoria' voice, so different from just Victoria. "You don't know what we can do together, and even if we fail in legal marriage…. I will still be yours, marriage just make it acceptable in the eyes of those who do not matter. Will you accept this and just let us be happy together? Will you stop fighting this?"

Melbourne was shaking his head, but more so out of the sudden insanity that had so wholly consumed his life. They gazed at each other, her expression pleading with him, face still wet with the silent tears she had shed. It tore him apart to see her like that, and slowly he made his way toward her.

He brushed away the wetness on her face. "You will be the end of me, Victoria," he vowed, sounding defeated, yet not unhappy. The long war he had waged against her had been lost, but he found himself waving a metaphorical white flag with a grin on his face.

Her face lit up hesitantly. "Yes?" She whispered, asking for an answer to a question she had not quite voiced, yet had already been asked.

Nodding as his hands slid slowly down her neck, coming to rest on her petite shoulders he asked, "what do you suggest we do?"

"To start," Victoria exclaimed, happiness over his acceptance leaking into every ounce of her words. "I think you should leave, but I think your carriage should be quite empty."

His brows met in confusion. And then as she stared at him in expectant silence, he began to understand. "Ah." He whispered, beginning to trace the line of pale skin where her dressing gown ended. "Are you sure?"

"I cannot leave the palace unnoticed, or I would escape to Dover House with you in an instant. And aside from the obvious… pleasure I would take in your company, I find myself…" she looked around, not meeting his eyes in embarrassment. "I don't think I will be able to sleep alone tonight given todays… events. And I haven't asked Lehzen to stay the night in my room since I was about twelve years old."

Ever the devils advocate, he pointed out "You have the entire royal guard outside your door Victoria, I hardly think anything should happen to you tonight."

"A whole palace full of people and I still feel alone at night. I think tonight will be worse than usual," she admitted, blushing slightly.

"Victoria." He whispered, closing his eyes in attempt to collect some strength. "You've had a long day, I do not think you should be making this decision right now. If someone—"

She cut him off, rose up onto her toes, kissed his cheek and whispered—"stay the night with me."

A/N: I mean…. I'm pretty sure we all know where this is going. Unfortunately with the superbowl and other obligations (meaning work ugh) it might be a few days before the next chapter is up. I want to give it all the time it deserves ;)

Also this story is officially rated M for Mature. Just in case someone didn't catch on to what's most likely about to happen.

I say most likely because I really didn't intend this story to be this long and yet these chapters keep getting away from me.

Your comments have been so encouraging! Thanks so much for the support, I'm glad you all like my story. If you have any good ones to share I'm open to suggestions in the comments. 3