CHAPTER 10: SEX ISN'T PERSONAL

Without any words, Kaylie conceived and established the rules that delineated their relationship. Over the course of the next two days, Nicky understands them and doesn't protest. It's just sex. Nothing else. He doesn't kiss her, or touch her, or say anything. It's just sex, he repeats over and over in his head whenever he begins to question the "why" of this situation.

The way Kaylie goes about it, she makes it satisfying, painless, and mostly quick—like they're efficient machines. He never asks her for more than she's willing to give. He never even tries to break her rules; the few times they kissed, she initiated it, and it seemed she did it only by accident or to muffle their sounds. He touches her only where it's necessary; to hold her still, or balance himself. And after they are done she leaves, like she did that first night they had come back from filming their sex scene. She caressed his cheek in the slightest of touches, then retreated to her room while his throbbing body recovered from what they'd just done, and his mind reeled over how things were going to turn out after this.

Their arrangement is odd; never in a million years he would have expected to be having "casual" sex with his wife. But given their circumstances, stranger things were possible. He wished Kaylie would actually, you know, talk to him. But as it is, she is wholly immersed in her show's shootings and he only sees her when he's scheduled for filming, or when she wants to spend the night with him, and even then, she takes off immediately afterward.

He wants her to stay. So he can ask how her day went, how her parents are, if she can feel the baby growing. He wants her to smile, or laugh—anything would be great—but she never does. She's just fulfilling a need and he knows he should be thankful that he can do that for her, at least; he can be of use for a half hour, or fifteen minutes, or however long she makes it take. That, in a way, answers his questions. If she's quick and determined, then her day was rough and long. When she's gentler and more patient, then her mind isn't as clouded or worried. When she lets him touch her, and look into her eyes, he knows she's remembering that morning, wishing things were still like that, and not fucked up and horrible like they are now. He knows she feels stuck, like none of this was her choice, like she could deal with the marriage and the new career because those things required some adjusting but it could be done. But the divorce shook her and the pregnancy broke her, and he feels helpless that he can't fix her, can't patch her up and restore her to that confident carelessness she had when she smiled at the world like she knew she would be smiled back at.

He's just there to fulfill a need, that's all. He takes her cues, the ragged, uneven breathing, the involuntary shivers and muffled moans, and knows what to do—he's just there to fulfill a need.

What would have happened if they'd never gone on that dinner date with Austin and Kelly? If they had stayed in her trailer instead? He probably would have told her the things that had been in his mind since that morning in the hotel—that it wasn't exactly something he was completely comfortable with, yet, but he really believed he loved her. Then maybe discovering about the pregnancy and the divorce—which she would have, eventually—wouldn't have been as affecting. He thinks about the restaurant; about frowning at Austin's laid-back, smirking personality, and then worrying himself sick over something so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He proposed to Kaylie in the middle of a medals ceremony in the Olympics. Did that matter?

Kaylie wakes, and the nausea reminds her that it's been a week since her last injection of whatever cocktail she's been taking to keep the morning sickness and mood swings at bay, and it'll be given to her again today.

No, Kaylie. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. DON'T THINK ABOUT IT.

But it's useless. She sits up, hand resting on her stomach, and thinks about it. She's pregnant. The word used to inspire nothing in her, it had no connotation at all, positive or negative. Now it symbolizes all the reasons she wants to be someone else, in a different time.

That's usually her first thought every morning, but at least today, because of the annoying nagging her stomach is making, the pregnancy was her second thought.

And now it's time for the third miserable thought of the day: she slept with Nicky again last night. Not that she even tries to fight it. And not that the sex is miserable. No, the sex is actually... it's great... it's so...

Ugh. A different kind of nausea overcomes her; the kind that follows every thought or memory she has about Nicky, and his lips, his eyes, his hair, his body, his arms... it's a tingling sensation, pleasantly traveling through her body, leaving a trail of shivers, making her forget to breathe. Until she shuts that down. Because that's not what she's supposed to feel with Nicky.

She doesn't know how sex went from an affirmation of emotional attachment to a mechanically-performed need, but it did, and it seems like it's the only thing keeping her intact nowadays. She goes through the motions like she's supposed to, but acting all the time; acting in accordance to the script when on set, and like she's okay and in control everywhere else. Sometimes she convinces Austin and Kelly. Sometimes she convinces herself, even. But she never convinces Nicky, and it unsettles her that there's a person in the world that seems to know her better than she knows herself, even when she barely talks to him, even when she uses sex to hide.

Yes, she's hiding from him. Their trysts may be a monetarily pleasurable, but there's a weighty emptiness afterwards that would have convinced her to stop them if they didn't reassure Nicky that she was still alive and well. That's what she means by hiding—sex is how she distracts him from worrying too much about her, because she sees his relief when he gets to interact with her in however small a way.

She knows how he feels about all this. Out of the corner of her eye she sees him fighting the urge to reach his hand out and touch her, and when she feels his breath hot against her throat and jaw, she knows he want to raise his mouth just a bit and kiss her. When she's sliding off his bed to leave, sometimes she catches glimpses of his eyes, always pained, like she's killing him. If she ever gave him an opportunity to speak, he'd probably ask her to stay, but she's made the rules clear: they don't talk.

For some reason, when it sunk in that she was going to be a mother, and her life was irreversibly different, she couldn't pretend anymore that it was okay being in 2014 and remembering almost nothing of how she got there. When she had begun to accept Nicky as her spouse, and could see why she had chosen to marry him, it had seemed easy to go with the current and not fight her feelings for him. She had wanted things to work out, had wanted to settle into this new life and carry on until the memories came back entirely. But then everything changed and she has to fight it now. She doesn't know why, exactly, but her mind and body are fighting against this and she refuses to accept that these changes must also be adapted to. Even if maybe it would make things easier. Even if she can't recognize herself in the mirror anymore, she's fighting herself so much.

So she follows the fear telling her to run away from Nicky because their problem is much too enormous to be tackled, but also follows her body, which tells her to be with him through the only way that is bearable and won't involve any feelings—sex.

Her stomach performs another lurch, and she breathes deeply and slowly, knowing there's nothing in her to throw up. Nervously, she glances at the clock. Damn. It's still seven. She has a whole hour to kill before she has to leave to the studio. What can she do in an hour? Explore her closet? It's gigantic, and she's been too intimidated to take a long, examining look around. Maybe she should read the last script, and make sure she knows all her lines. Even if she's sure she does.

A sudden thought occurs to her. If Nicky were here, she would feel much better. Even at her worst, the mere sight of him alleviates most of her anguish and pains. But it highlights other pains, like the ones caused by the fact that she has feelings for him that he doesn't reciprocate, and the pregnancy just made sure of that. What would it be like, for a guy, to have a child with someone you kind of like, but not really?

Food. She needs to eat something. If, then, she throws up before she has to a chance to get her shot, at least something will come out besides stomach acid. God. Six more months of this...

Her heartbeats have never been this shallow and quick, even when she performed long, arduous routines. And the fact that she hasn't let out any loud moans or suspicious noises is a testament to her self-restraint. Nicky, too, seems to be on the verge of groaning very loudly every time she shifts her positioning or speed.

Faintly, she hears the low hum typically emitted by the golf carts everyone uses to get around the lot, just outside her trailer. In the back of her mind, she's thinking that this is a bad sign, because if people are driving by this area of the studio, then it's nearing the time to start shooting. And yes, her actual reporting time isn't in a while, but the way things are going, she's going to have a harder and harder time keeping things quiet in the trailer, and traffic outside of it is increasing. But all this doesn't stop her smile of satisfaction when he can't help a small groan-he thinks she's teasing, but in reality, she's just pacing things a bit. For a second, she thinks about how hot it is in the trailer, but then her eyes wander to his arms and chest, glistening with a thin layer of perspiration, and her train of thought is pleasantly derailed.

Nicky is always impatient, and a lot more reluctant to give up control than she ever thought, so it's not surprising to her when he flips them over and she finds herself quickly underneath him. And that's when her first moan slips out; because now that he's the one controlling the pace, things catch her off-guard, and he knows her body so well, and... oh God... this isn't going to take long. This is really, really, not going to...

"That's my way of asking you to watch it with me."

"Oh was that it? I'm sorry; I guess you were too subtle."

"Or, you wanted to see me beg."

"I was up for a little coaxing."

"Morning, Nick." Kelly's voice snaps him out of his distant thought, as he remembered better times with Kaylie. He's been sitting at a small table just outside Kaylie's trailer for... twenty, thirty minutes, probably, initially just staring at nowhere in particular, thinking about his lines for today, Kaylie, the plotlines, Kaylie, his food, Kaylie... she owns him. She owns every thought. She owns his whole body.

"Hey," he greets back, forcing some semblance of emotion into his voice. He motions to the chair on the opposite side of the wooden table and she sits down, smiling and examining him with curiosity.

"There are going to be life forms growing on your sandwich if you don't eat it soon," she quips with an easy chuckle, crossing her arms and leaning back. Nicky offers her a small, amused smile, and takes an obliging bite from said sandwich. "So how have you been?"

"Good." He doesn't mean to sound so curt. But there's nothing to say here, really.

"Yeah? You and Kaylie have been sort of weird..." Kelly comments idly, lifting her hands to inspect her nails. "Ever since you came back from Boulder." Yeah, of course. What was she expecting? he wants to retort, but she adds, "and then after that sex scene, you guys seem to be having a bit of a... an unusual chemistry."

Yeah, the director commented that their scenes seem to be a lot steamier than the were last season, but thankfully he concluded that their marriage is a great addition to their acting capabilities. Little does he know, that they kiss hard on set, enough to bruise, and never kiss at all outside of it. But now that Kelly is bringing this up, is the casual sex thing noticeable? What exactly does Kelly know? Has Kaylie been talking to her? "I don't know what you mean."

Kelly sighs, watching him and tilting her head with a smirk. "You barely speak to each other but yesterday I swear there were like, three minutes in which everyone walking by your trailer could hear you two."

"Kelly—"

She cuts him off unceremoniously. "I understand. I do. You guys don't know how to move past the pregnancy thing, and Kaylie is upset over that and the divorce. And you're going to be a father and you don't even remember dating Kaylie. But the sex is good, so you keep on doing it, right?"

The way she systematically managed to cram their larger problems into a nutshell is striking, and Nicky is impressed. But... God. This is going to be a pain to put into words. "Yeah, we're... sleeping together... but it's not really... anything personal." He notices that he raised his voice at the end, and it came out like a question even though it's a statement. A jumbled mess of a statement, but still.

"How is sex between you two not personal?"

Good question.

"She doesn't want it to be personal, so it isn't."

Her eyebrows, which had shot up her forehead when he began to explain things, finally settle down, but Kelly is clearly dissatisfied. Like his replies aren't really answering her questions, and he can't help thinking that he made a mistake mentioning this at all. But he needed someone to talk to about this and Austin, KAYLIE'S EX-BOYFRIEND, wasn't an option. "You know what, Nicky?" she says resolutely, nodding quickly, "we can talk about sex. Freely. Because when we were younger we did a whole lot of it," at this, he winces involuntarily, "and we have no wish to do it ever again." He's still watching her with a light grimace, because, somehow, memories of his sex life with Kelly are profoundly unpleasant. Maybe because she was always bossing him around and insulting him. "Therefore, let's be open about it now. What, exactly, are you and Kaylie doing in the bedroom?"

Instantly, he cringes. What the... how is he supposed to answer that? "We sleep together. That's it. No, actually, we don't sleep together. We have sex and then she leaves. But that's it."

"Interesting. Do you ever kiss?"

"Not outside the set."

"How often do you guys do it?" Nicky has to admit—this question and answer format makes things a lot easier. In any other manner, he'd probably not have been able to string two words together out of embarrassment.

"Probably... once or twice a day."

"Is it good?"

"Uh... yes. Really good." This is so embarrassing. So, so, painfully—

"But you don't snuggle, or talk about feelings afterward."

"No. She's not..." He sighs, eyes darting around him, some small part of him expecting Kaylie to be right around the corner, listening to this. "She doesn't like me, Kelly. There aren't any feelings to talk about. It's really just sex for her."

"And it's not just sex for you?"

However reluctant he was to answer her questions, he figured she could provide some good counsel, so he was willing to be honest about things he would have rather lied about. But this is tapping too deep inside the storm of emotions in his chest, and he just can't talk about it. He stays silent.

"I'm taking that as a yes, by the way."

Of course she is.

Something odd happens in her chest when Kaylie steps out of her trailer, walks a few steps, and by chance, glances back behind her shoulder and catches a glimpse of Nicky and Kelly, absorbed in conversation, knees touching, eyes conveying that some intimate subject is being broached. It's like a little tremor; not fear, not jealousy, even. Just... like she's seen this before, it wasn't nice, and she's actually tried to forget about it. She realizes that the sight made her eyebrows furrow together, which they would do if she were confused, but... she's not. Why can't she pin down what this feeling is?

"He loved you first." For a moment, she doesn't register that someone's voice said this. Actually, she isn't sure she heard this at all; maybe it was a thought. But then it's like her brain's gears start moving and it dawns on her that that was Austin's voice, announcing something that sounds important, out of the blue. She turns around and he's there, all 6'3'' of lean, tan muscle; a man she should know really well, but doesn't. And his apologetic, boyish smile always makes her feel like there's a chunk of those four years that were filled with him. She should remember it. She needs to.

"Hi, Austin." Kaylie tries to smile, but just nods in his direction. "What were you saying?"

"Come here," he murmurs encouragingly, motioning her over to the actor's break area, which is a nice shaded circle of chairs, and a middle table topped with small snacks, everything conveniently located close to all the most often-used sets. Kaylie complies, and sits down on a wooden chair, unsure of what to expect. She hasn't spent a lot of time with Austin outside of shooting episodes and doing promotional work for the series, but from what she's been able to gather, he's a fun, laid-back guy; the kind of boy who would have charmed every girl at the Rock. Heck, maybe he did. Maybe that's how he got her. "Apple?" Austin offers, already stuffing his pockets with bananas and a muffin. Slowly, she shakes her head, training a polite smile on her lips. Finally, he too sits down, sinking into a comfy couch. "I've been wanting to talk to you since I found out about the amnesia thing, Kaylie." His voice is entirely devoid of its usual playfulness, his eyes display none of its customary malicious glint. "Because I know you don't remember me—or us. And I don't know what you're gonna remember first, you know? Our fights, or when things were good..."

It's her cue to say something, so he doesn't feel like this is a bad time, like he's approaching her when she doesn't want to be approached. "I haven't really remembered much, to be honest. Just... an argument we had."

"Kaylie." His voice is so soft, so tentative, like he doesn't want to hear himself. "We didn't have a clean break-up, and it was my fault. Before you start remembering bits of pieces of our relationship and get weird around me, I need to explain that you kind of... taught me... how to be monogamous. That I wasn't relationship material before I met you. That I didn't think any one girl was gonna be able to hold my attention, but then you did."

"Why are you..." She doesn't finish her question, trailing off when he looks up at her and shifts in his seat a bit.

"I did a lot to try to win you over, and take me seriously. I made an ass out of myself in front of your parents. I cared more about your gymnastics than my own. The greatest moment of my life was when you let me kiss you after a party at my house, tied with the first time you actually kissed me—I didn't have to, like, talk you into it, or lean in first, you know? You did it because you wanted to, because you liked me." He chuckles to himself, as though still marveling at the events he's describing, and in a moment, Kaylie understands everything he's saying, even the things he isn't saying, and all without remembering him. "I did all of that, and then all it took for me to lose you was for him to look at you, all the way from the other side of a restaurant. All it took was a second, and it was like there was a whole world with just the two of you, and after that you were pushing me out more and more, until it was over."

Kaylie has to clear her throat because she's sure it's become hoarse with misuse. "By 'him' you mean Nicky." But she knows this already.

"Yeah. Boy Scout," he agrees softly, smiling and shaking his head a bit. "If it had been any other girl, I wouldn't have cared. But you had my attention. Remember that, when it starts coming back to you—all the horrible things I said to you, because I was jealous, and sure that you had cheated on me. All the bad stuff was just some crap that I spewed out because I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before. You never talked to me about Russo, you only ever mentioned Carter Anderson. But there was always a wall up, and I thought everyone had walls. I thought maybe it was the anorexia, or your problems with your parents, or with Anderson and Lauren Tanner. All these things made it hard for you to trust people, to trust me, and let me in completely. But then at that restaurant I saw your face when he smiled at you, and he was the wall. Because he loved you first."

"Austin, you don't have to—"

He plows on determinedly, as though he's only going to have one chance to explain everything. "I want you to have this in the back of your mind, because you're probably going to remember the bad stuff first. But it wasn't all bad, Kaylie. We were together for a year. We did all that sappy stuff I thought I was too old to do—we ate by lakes, held hands, had food fights, made-out in the boy's locker room at the Rock. I even started texting because you loved texting. I watched chick flicks with you, and pretended I cared who was gonna end up with who. I listened to weepy music because you told me it made your heart slow down. You named your car 'Austin' because I named one of my cars 'Kaylie.' I want you to think about that," his voice is starting to sound pleading, "when you start to remember that I was angry, thinking you were sleeping with him, when you never slept with me. When you remember that I told you I hated you and regretted meeting you.

"That's not who I am. I was acting out of character. Ask anyone—ask Kelly, because she knows me best of all. She'll tell you. You know how we got together? During the months we were all training for the Olympics, she and I were watching you two, from the corner, angry that the two people who had gotten our attention now had each others' attention. She's just like me, you know? She and Russo were fuck-buddies, until he saw you at Nationals in 2011, with me, and just stopped wanting her. She didn't think she was meant to belong to anyone, either, until Russo made her think that it was possible to like only one person, for a very long time. We learned to have a longer attention span, we used to joke. We hated you two. And then we started to actually smile at you two, because you were so uncool, trying to keep it under wraps when everyone in the fucking world had seen that picture of you in the Olympic Village. Kelly and I were cool, because it was just sex. And then it wasn't just sex anymore, and we started hanging out for purposes other than to talk about you two. I envied how you looked at him, like everything always got better when you were around each other, but I started to have that with Kelly, too, and I understood. And then it stopped hurting, seeing you with Russo.

Kaylie hasn't moved a single muscle since he began to tell her all of this, and maybe she looks puzzled, because he leans forward and raises a hand to his temple, like he's trying to figure out how to explain everything in simpler terms. He's an entirely different person to her now. She hasn't remembered anything about him, but it's like he left a mark on her that only now she's gotten around to discovering on her own body. Nicky is an open, pulsing wound, still bleeding, and Austin is a scar she didn't even know had been there till now.

"Just... remember that I was a good guy. I was a good boyfriend. Your heart didn't skip over from Anderson to Russo. I was in there for a while, and it was good."

Kaylie swallows hard, leans back, and watches Austin with apprehension. Parts of his speech replay in her mind, still fresh, so that she can still hear it every time his voice grooved or faltered. Parts of his speech play with more frequency than others, however. And the part that drowns all the others out eventually is"I saw your face when he smiled at you, and he was the wall. Because he loved you first."

Following his talk with Kelly, Nicky is glad there aren't any romantic scenes to film, only stunts, because he's still digesting what she told him. Among other things, she explained that he needed to either stop the meaningless sex with Kaylie, or force some meaning into it. Neither option sounds very tempting to him, or particularly easy.

He's in the wardrobe area, having already changed into the leotard he'll be donning for his scenes. It's almost a relief to be in this outfit again; he missed it. The light, breathable fabric fits him like his own skin, and he can't help shaking his arms loose, like he's actually going to train right now. He can feel his muscles buzz excitedly, as the mere thought of climbing up those rings injects him with anticipation.

Two of the gymnastics coordinators begins to prepare him for warm-ups, and Nicky wholeheartedly immerses himself into it, relishing in the opportunity to practice his still rings skills once he's lifted to them. Closing his eyes, he allows his arms to adjust to his weight, and raises his legs to a perfectly straight, perpendicular angle. As he's beginning to feel his core muscles protest against the strain, he experiences a slight poke in his right temple and only has time to mentally complain about his brain's timing before a flashback is hurled his way.

"So..." The National Team's luncheon is drawing to a close and everyone is already cheerily heading out. Nicky glances back and watches Kelly charming the pants and the dignity out of some poor gymnast from the east coast, and wonders whether she's fruitlessly attempting to make him jealous again. Then, his eyes roam a bit to the right and he sees Kaylie and Austin Tucker rising from their table, the perfect picture of a gymnastics romance. Do people still remember Kalicky, or has the entire world already been converted to KayAus? He turns and slowly makes his way towards the exit.

KayAus... like "chaos"... ha ha ha...

"Nicky Russo, my man!" What did Austin Tucker just call him? Nicky snaps around and unfortunately his eyes fix on Kaylie's apologetic, slightly embarrassed smile, instead of on Austin, who tackles him in one of those manly jock hugs that Nicky has frankly never, ever been a fan of.

"How are you, Tucker," Nicky asks in a monotone, refusing to infuse his voice with any sort of interest. Kaylie Cruz is his girlfriend. The girl he wishes he didn't still sort of have a huge thing for.

"Never better," replies Austin with that lazy, chiseled smile of his that Nicky supposes makes girls all over the world swoon. Nicky, of course, is disgusted, especially when Austin happily throws an arm around Kaylie and she's comfortable with it.

Well, he then can't help thinking, of course she's comfortable. That's her boyfriend. And she has no idea you like her.

"Hey, Nicky," Kaylie greets, a lot more discreetly than Austin.

"Hey, Kaylie. You good?" He wishes he didn't seem so goddamn, stupidly hopeful when he talks to her.

"Never better," Kaylie echoes Austin with a small, sincere nod, and while Austin is laughing and tightening his hold on the girl with appreciation, Nicky's heart clenches a little bit.

"What are you waiting for, man?" Austin asks, and Nicky realizes they're already at the door, and Nicky is just sort of standing there, while their car has already arrived.

What would be a good way to answer that question? Austin is as interested as he would be in anything, but Kaylie is watching him intently, and he knows he can speak now and she'll be the one listening."Someone. But I'll wait till it's my time."

Nicky opens his eyes, and they immediately zero in on Kaylie as she watches him, still suspended on the rings. He sees something in her expression, like fascinated pride, that he hasn't seen in anyone, really, aside from Kaylie herself during one of those YouTube videos of his performance in the Olympics when some smartass cameraman decided to zoom in on her reaction to a particularly difficult part of his routine. He notices that she's attired in a leotard, too, and the set was built to resemble parts of an Olympic stadium, so for a moment he wonders whether any Olympics-related memories will come back to him.

Slowly and deliberately he lowers himself from the rings and lands smoothly, clapping his hands clean of powder and hoping Kaylie will approach him, talk to him. And then she begins to walk towards him and he's caught off-guard by how rapidly his heart pounds when she's only a few feet away from him, looking stunning in her leotard. He has no idea where that fetus is.

"It's easier now, huh?" she inquires, motioning to the apparatuses with her chin, and he knows that she's comparing their gymnastics skills now, in 2014, to the ones they had in 2010.

"Definitely. Hanging like that from the still rings for five minutes? Didn't even notice." The cocky joke slips out before he can keep it in, but she laughs and he's pleasantly surprised, and immediately eager to see more of the happy Kaylie, and less of the one that hates her life and feels miserable.

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything to enlarge your ego, but since it's so small and insignificant," she begins, and he knows he can't possibly smile any wider without breaking his face, "I'll just put it out there that your arms, 2014 version, are definitely a step-up from the 2010 ones."

Oh my God. His heart hurts, but in such a good way. They're having their first conversation in days, and it's just so... normal. Like this is how things are supposed to be.

"I can't wait, you know," he says smilingly, before he actually thinks about the words, "till that baby's out; he's gonna be crawling at our gym and naming the apparatuses like it's nothing."

It only takes one second. One second and the illusion of normalcy vanishes. Kaylie swallows hard and he remembers—goddamn it, he remembers, how painful this still is, and how this is the reason they never talk, so this topic won't have a chance of ever coming up.

But they're talking about this, so a desperate, heart-racing urgency takes over him and he decides that this can't go on any longer—he refuses to continue living like this; being without her is like being in a room slowly being filled with poison gas. He wants to breathe again, and he has no doubt Kaylie wants out of their suffocating restraints, too.

"I'm really looking forward to it," he asserts, inserting as much confidence as he can into the statement. He can't believe he's actually saying this; he's talking about it, and even telling her that he wants this, if she wants him. He nods once, for finality, and watches her reaction, hoping.

Come on, Kaylie. Come on. Please...

"Kaylie, Nicky," one of the production assistants calls out, much to Nicky's annoyance, and they both turn toward him, "we're still having problems installing the pommel horse so we're taking an hour break before shooting starts."

"Okay," Kaylie agrees quietly, then turns to Nicky again, and he knows, just knows, that she's going to pretend he never said anything. That's her way of coping with things she's unprepared for—she runs. But he isn't going to let her run this time. "So, since we have a break, I think I'm going to go over my lines for a bit, and—"

He never gives her the chance to finish her sentence. In one sweeping motion, more awkwardly than he imagined it (or is used to doing when being recorded), but effective all the same, he lifts her chin gently, and presses his lips softly against hers. He's kissed her on set for a week now; controlled, cold, detached, pretending she wasn't a drug he was hopelessly addicted to, pretending he didn't need her to kiss him back. Just this time, his mind and body will be in sync. Just once, he's going to kiss her the way he's wanted to.

A/N: Rewriting this chapter was like pulling teeth. All of them. It was the labor of a lifetime (sorry if there are any mistakes, by the way), but at least I know next chapter should be easier to write, plot-wise. Thanks for your support and reviews, and please keep 'em, coming. :)