"Tell me something," he whispers, pushing a curl away from her face. She leans into his had, a soft smile on her face, the smile she saves just for him. "Something you've never told anyone else before."
It's a command, and who is she not to obey? "I lo–"
Clive bolted upright in his bed, heart thundering loudly. His sheets are a tangled mess, more of them covering the floor than him. He sighed, getting out of bed. It was strange. He hadn't had dreamt in God knows how long, and that odd sensation of a dream, that couldn't really be described with words, unnerved him.
He walked out into the living room towards the large doors that opened out to a balcony. It was a bit chilly, the nighttime air combined with the wind bit at his bare arms, but he payed it no heed. His mind was too occupied.
With Flora. She filled his thoughts near constantly. Her smiles, her laughter, and on the rare occasion her anger, was all imprinted in his mind. He wanted, no, needed to memorize every detail of her.
Because, once she was safe, she'd have no reason to see him. She'd fade out of his life, and become nothing but a half-remembered dream, hazy and distorted. He couldn't let her memory be altered in any way; he had to remember her as she truly was.
Flora woke when she heard the sound of the door opening, and she was instantly awake once she remembered she was in Clive's flat, and he was a notorious criminal, and apparently someone was out for her.
She crept out of her room, peeking around the wall that hid the living room. The balcony door was open, the sheer curtains used to cover it blew gently with the wind. She could see a darkened figure leaning against the railing, the glow of a lit cigarette visible. The way the silhouette was positioned, the stance and everything, she could tell it was Clive. Flora smiled softly.
Stepping out, the cement cold against her bare feet, she reached out and touched his shoulder.
Clive whirled around in surprise, his hand shooting up to grab hers in a tight grip. The cigarette fell, embers flying as it disappeared across the edge. His eyes flashed dangerously, until he saw who it was.
"Dammit, Flora," he said tightly, but he visibly relaxed. "Don't you ever do that."
She nodded, eyes wide. He let her hands go, shooting her an apologetic glance as she rubbed her wrists. She moved up so she was standing right next to him, looking out across the night sky. He took her appearance in; her hair down in loose curls, and she was wearing a light-colored nightgown trimmed with lots of lace. (Evidently, Mrs. Hansen was quite fond of that material, and used it in abundance on Flora's clothes. Not that Flora minded. Neither did Clive, for that matter.)
They stood in silence for a while, until Flora spoke. "I didn't know you smoked," she said.
He glanced at her as he answered. "Only when I'm stressed, nowadays. It used to be a lot worse," he said, his tone a bit defensive. She wasn't meant to catch him, she wouldn't understand.
But she just nodded. "You've been working too much, Clive," she said with concern.
He just ignored her remark, instead asking her a question that had been worrying him for many nights now. "Why do you stay here? It's been months, but you're still here."
She blinked, her face suddenly guarded and her eyes wary. "That's a stupid question," she said, her tone sharp. "You said it yourself; it's for my safety. Isn't it?"
"I know what I said, but you were so against it in the beginning, I thought you'd jump at the chance to leave."
"So you're offering one, then?" she retorted, refusing to make eye contact.
"You'd want one?" he countered. Clive felt a sinking feeling as she didn't respond. "You would. You want to leave," he said with finality.
She continued to gaze at the sky, the stars reflecting in her eyes. "I didn't say that," she began, but he cut her off.
"You might as well have!" he said with annoyance.
She whirled around, glaring at him. "What is this even about? You ask me why I'm staying here, then practically tell me you want me to leave! Just what do you want, Clive? What do you want me to say?"
He turned away, feeling like a complete arse. Why did he even bring it up? "I don't want you to leave," he said quietly.
"Why?" she asked. If he was going to ask pointless, uncomfortable questions, then so would she.
"Because… I–" he floundered, struggling for words. He was never good at that whole 'expressing feelings and emotion' type of thing.
Flora rolled her eyes, about to tell him not to worry about it, when she felt a pair of soft lips against hers. It was a gentle, sweet kiss, something she wouldn't have expected Clive to be capable of.
Then he withdrew from her, his usual suave demeanor was back, a cocky expression on his face. "Goodnight, love," he said as he turned and went back inside, without so much as a glance behind him.
A/N: Bah I'm sorry for the shortness and lateness of this chapter. School's been killing me, but guess what? It snowed, and we have today off.
Also also also, I have finally made my New Year's resolution for 2012: To be a Boss Bitch. Oh yes.
Super big thank you to: Ethera, dreamingleaf7, Boot-chan, ItalianPrincess92, forgetmenotflowers, and Seventh Sunset for all of your reviews. I love hearing what you think!
Hokay, one more thing: I have a small contest of sorts planned for the next chapter. There will be a cleverly hidden reference (not really) to something in the next chapter. To whoever finds the reference first, gets their very own drabble! (very lame, I know, I'm sorry)
So yeah, if you 'win' you can tell me what you'd like in a story and I'll write one for you?
I'm sorry it's a really stupid idea I know just–