Disclaimer: I do not own Fifty Shades of Grey or the characters, as they belong to EL James.

This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction.

So, there's some confusion as to whether or not Ana is a submissive in Fifty Shades. I've gone back and looked at it, and if you recall Christian told Ana to use the time out with her Mom to think it over, as she'd agreed to try. So by the belt incident, she is technically a submissive. Of course their relationship was never typical of a sub/dom relationship, not in the way Christian carried them out. I also don't believe she actually signed the contract, it was just the NDA. Correct me if I'm wrong please. This isn't a typical re-write of the books, either by the way.

Don't forget to review, xox S.

P.S. It's another short-ish chapter. I'll make it up in the next one, as things get interesting again.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I open the door, to find Christian standing before me. In his hand, he holds a dozen, or is that two dozen yellow roses.

"Christian," I take a step back, as he steps forward into the apartment. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd deliver these in person," he says, offering me the bouquet of yellow roses. Like the one I received at SIP today and before that on the doorstep of the apartment. "There are 27. One for each of the days that you were a part of my life – before I screwed it up, that is."

One for each of the days you were his Submissive, my inner-bitch sneers. And while it's not exactly true, she has a point. I never did sign that contract. I wonder, would the break-up have gone differently if I had?

I don't make any move, at all, to take the bouquet he's holding in his hands. Instead I hope the anger that's welling inside, is also showing on the outside. "You didn't listen to a word I said, did you?" I seethe. "I asked you to give me space. Twice. But you ignored me. Ignored the most basic of requests. I guess that's too much to ask when you're the one that's use to giving the orders, and not the other way around, huh? Well screw you, Christian Grey, screw you!"

"I've missed that mouth, Anastasia," Christian says. "Take the flowers, please?"

"No!" I'm holding my ground, and I'm not about to give it up yet. I'm not about to be sucked in so you can hurt me again, either.

"Ana!"

"I said no Christian. What part of that don't you get?" I ask. "I don't want your damn flowers and I don't want you. Now, please, just get the hell out of my apartment. Just go!"

"If that's what you want," he says. There's defeat in his voice. I know I've hurt him, but he hurt me first. With a belt, no less.

I just nod. The tears will start if I try to talk, and I don't want to appear weak in front of him. I can't afford to. Not now.

It's all too fresh, too raw. I wish, deep down, that I didn't still love him, but I do. That's the centre of the pain, me, loving Christian, and him not loving me back, the same way.

He looks at me, offering up a sad, dejected smile and I just stare at him, unblinking. Unmoving. Just go! I will him with my mind. Just go, please!

Finally, at long last, he does leave, taken the bouquet of 27 yellow roses with him.

I'm alone in my apartment, and I hate it. I wish I had somebody to take to, but Kate's in Barbados, with Elliot. I hate him. I hate Kate. And I hate that their a couple, like Christian and I should have been. Not some fucked up fifty shades of whatever Christian had planned for me.

I pull out my phone – the one I had before Christian – but I hestitate. There's nobody for me to call. Paul's wrapped in Uni. Jose's preparing for his art show and Ethan's in Barbados. Sighing I put my phone down, making a mental note to stop it from diverting to the Blackberry. At least it's one less reminder of Christian.