HEY YOU KIDS I'M HERE I'M ALIVE! and this story is more alive than ever. So I'm placing this chapter after the events that took place on the winter finale between Mells and Marcus. I just want to let you know I will probably wrap this story up here, but of course I'm gonna keep writing because these two are not getting their shit together and I AM LOSING MY SHIT over them. I'm shutting up right now, enjoy the chapter, leave reviews I LOVE THEM, and I love you, thanks for being pendant of this.

It was late.

It was late again. Again, Mellie. Why can't you control yourself?. Her mind was spinning. She couldn't believe he practically came here to unashamedly pretend she would take their projects. Which by the way, were great, she thought, and that's why she had called Fitz to discuss one of them later tonight.

She was in her bed, lying on her side, feeling her own breathing. Feeling the loneliness of that huge cold bed she had to lay on every night. Now that she thought it better, it wasn't the projects suggestions or the co-work with their foundation he offered that offended her. It was him. She honestly thought she had a light chance of making herself clear.

But she didn't even try. She admit it, and shut her eyes tightly. You didn't even try it, Melody, you pretended him to realize something you didn't let him see. She was being selfish and proud, and she blamed herself for feeling something and later acting deliberately to sabotage it. She was self-boycotting her.

She felt her chest pumping heavily, as if her own weight were going to be too much for her body to hold. She sat up on her bed frustratedly, sighing sharply.

-Decide, Melody. Take a damn decision. -she told to herself whispering. She took a glance around her dark bedroom, a dim light entering the space through the blinds. Then beside her… all tidy.

-Oh, please… -she whispered to herself again, as a slippery and involuntary thought invaded her consciousness for one quick second. -You're not getting him in this bed. You can't afford that luxury… -she was chattering. Chattering to convince herself of something. As if she didn't want him, as if she didn't think of him quite often, often enough that couldn't keep her calm. -At least, not in THIS bed. -she repeated. She heard what she just whispered… not in this bed. Mellie started laughing softly to herself, she was like that 18 year old virgin teenager that met Fitz and couldn't stop fantasising.

She sighed again. Her eyes closed, and she stretched her neck with a slow circle downwards.

She felt… needy. Ashamed of admitting it, but she was NEEDY. She needed to fuck. And besides the fact that she never stopped thinking about him, that she couldn't deny she missed him, besides the fact that she was emotionally compromised, her mind kept flying to that afternoon since she practically pushed him away. When he stepped closer to her, she felt that heat inside her stomach that she felt whenever they were close.

Her hand was holding the back of her neck, her hair was freely loose over her shoulders, and that thin tank top she was wearing made her feel really pretty, she thought quickly as her eyes caught the image of her breasts softly covered by the smooth cotton.

Back to what she had her mind busy with, she closed her eyes and remembered the last time she kissed him. When was that? Ages ago. But she had it… it was the office he was using at that time. And the last kiss took to the one and only time they had sex. She thought it was real with him, she really did; she felt it, the realness of them two. They got along perfectly, they complemented each other. He pushed her up whenever the harshness she has innerly incorporated made her feel like a fucking mop, like she was failing. He told her how wonderful and talented and inspiring she was, he was always happy to see her talk about her passions. And she, she put a cold water cloth whenever he forgot about the real life. When he got too high with his ambitions or forgot to see the bigger picture of everything.

They complemented each other. They fit perfectly.

And… him. His mouth was so tempting, and his arms held her like she was going to melt. Oh, again. The heat was visiting again, here in her bedroom, right now. Her left hand was randomly running through her thigh, and her right hand slid very slowly from her neck, down her chest, and between her breasts. That skin was more sensitive than usual, she felt herself shivering and her nipples hardening under the cotton. The heat started spreading down her body so quickly, she realized she wasn't going to fall asleep any sooner. Her legs felt hotter, her lungs started pressing her chest faster.

Without an explicit intention, her body laid down. She pulled the sheets down her belly, and getting back from there, she ran them up the sides of her torso, touching her cages, finding her breasts. Her hands squeezed both of them softly, slowly, letting her body remember when he did the same thing quite time ago, trying to feel the kisses he placed in there. Her head arched backwards, her fingers went down her thighs to find the heat. She pulled her panties a few inches down, and slipped her middle finger between her lips, instantly rushing her clit and shivering automatically. A low groan escaped her throat, and her finger started gradually increasing the speed of its movements over her clit. Her walls started contracting asking for attention, and she entered her finger inside, groaning in pleasure when the abundant wet material moistened her finger as she pushed against her flesh, and her head continued spinning in the dark.

A few hours later, awake and still sleepy, she made the usual mental check of what she had to do today. The whole stressing thing started early every day.

She should call Marcus. Should she? Or she wanted to? Because she knew she was right. He came to her only to deposit the expectations of big success he needed to feed his ego. That's how she saw it, and that's how she felt it; she felt like a bridge, not like someone he truly wanted to cooperate with. She started thinking on what his intentions may be; she was sure he didn't mean to hurt her in any way, now that she considered with her mind in cold. But she felt he didn't consider the way she could take it… or… no, maybe she was the one being over sensitive lately. Maybe she should apologize to him, she wasn't sure of anything concerning her perception of things these past few weeks. Maybe she was projecting on him the frustration and the anger she still held over Rashad. Maybe she was pretending to have something with him that she pretended to have with the late President and was putting her wishes as priorities.

She should call him. And tell him what? 'hey, sorry i pushed you away yesterday, but you made me feel used and now i am ready to tell you i can't stop thinking about you'. She bit her lip. Oh Jesus. Handle this, Melody, you're not a teenager, handle this. I'm putting everything on the table with him today.

This is probably the last chapter of the story. I thought it was a good idea to end just where the winter finale ended for them. Thanks and i hope to continue this story in another one soon!