I finally surrendered to my bed, Spot's bed, and barely made it to sleep until I heard the creaky window open and saw a slight shape slip through. I sat up, trying to make out is face, but I knew exactly who it was. He looked hopelessly forlorn as though he had been thinking about what he said all night. I got up and went over to him, searching his eyes for some sort of explanation. When he finally spoke, his voice wavered weakly.

"I jist can't quit you," he said, lowering his head to my shoulder and sobbing unrestrictedly.

"Baby," I whispered in his ear, "I don't want you to." I was starting to cry now too as I nuzzled my nose against his warm ear. His arms gripped strongly around me as if he had made a final decision that he was never going to let me go. And I wouldn't let him. He lifted up his head and his blue eyes were clearer than ever, lightly tinted with pink.

"Is 'dat a lie?" I asked softly.

He shook his head mournfully. "I wish. But since I can't forget ya, I guess I should do the best I can ta remember ya."

Spot smirked as his eyes pierced mine, lifting me up and placing me back on my bed; his bed. He planted several light kisses on my neck, unbuttoning his cream plaid shirt from my shoulders, moving his head down slowly to kiss my breasts. I let out a relieving sigh and ran my cold hands down the toned expanse of his back. As he was balancing himself on top of me, his gashed wrists came into my view and I could do nothing but keep my eyes on them

"What's wrong, baby?" He asked, his voice muffled in my hair. My eyes moved back over to his wrists, and he let out a sigh and climbed off of me to sit. I slowly got up, aware that my entire body could be seen, only to him, in the moonlight. I picked up the razor that I had kept well hidden because of intruders and held it sullenly in my hands. I sat back on the bed next to him, removing all of his clothing slowly and erotically.

When his clothes had become only a crumpled pile on the floor, I picked up the blade on the soft bed and glided it over my wrist, feeling the stinging pleasure that I had so missed before. Spot's eyes flickered over the scarlet drops that had soon appeared, then held out his own wrist.

"I'm yours," Spot whispered, nuzzling close to me, gently taking the razor out of my hand for his own use, and copied the same design on his own skin. He lay on top of me, filling me up on the inside, our wrists pressed helplessly together and our hands intertwined, knuckles white as they clenched.

He moaned into my mouth as he became harder inside of me, now thrusting deeper, and I had never felt such painful ecstasy. My legs were wrapped around his waist, a nonverbal way of telling him to never let me go. When he leaned into my collarbone I nipped at his ear, then sucking it softly, and a louder moan escaped from his lips.

He pressed his wrists harder against mine as is climax rose, my legs tightening as much they could around his center, gasping for air as we moved together in one rhythm, one body, until I felt a fire where he was thrusting in and out of me, his breath quickening and becoming even more stiff inside me. After a couple seconds as we rose and fell together he moaned so sweetly in my ear, thrusting harder until everything became fuzzy with our stifled breaths, heaving sighs and crimson wrists, until his eyes clenched tightly, slowing down his movements. As he fell from sweet rapture, he rested his warm body against mine until our blood ran together as one body.

I woke up, my throbbing wrist resting on Spot's stomach. I moved it ever so slightly and winced as I did so, and Spot let out a barely audible sigh.

"Spot," I whispered, running a free hand through his hair. He grunted.

"Spot," I said again, this time a little louder. He grunted.

"Spot!" I yelled. Loud grunt.

"We gotta sell today," I reminded him. He sat up, his slashed wrist becoming visible. I took a deep breath.

"What happened last night?" I asked, laying back down. Spot twirled a piece of my hair with his finger.

"Everything."

There was a moment when we both went silent, then he sighed as if he had something to say.

"Y'know ya can't tell anyone 'bout us, right?"

My eyebrows furrowed together as I examined him closely.

"What?" Spot didn't answer.

"Everyone already knows, Spot."

"What?"

"I didn't tell them anything, but I went back to get you out. They just know."

He rubbed his forehead with intense frustration, then got up to get dressed.

"Where are ya goin'?" I asked, getting up to slip my nightdress over my head.

"Ta fix this."

I moved closer to him and put my arms around his waist. He lowered his gaze to look at me.

"How are ya gonna fix this?"

He sighed as though it should have been obvious. "If everyone knows, Snyder's gonna come lookin' for ya. He knows we both escaped around the same time, an' if he don't find me he's gonna come after you."

"Snyder doesn't know where we are," I said hesitantly.

Spot put his hat on lazily. "He will. Jist trust me."

"Spot," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him around. "What are ya gonna do?"

"Nothin', baby."

I could tell that my face wore a look of concern. I was desperate. "Jist tell me."

"D'ya love me?" He asked as if he didn't know. In case he had any doubts, I pulled him even closer to me.

I felt tears begin to form behind my eyes. "Y'know I do, Spot."

"Liar," he smirked and pulled me tight against his warm chest.