Ressler stretched and rolled over, blinking slowly several times.
6:53 am, the red letters of his alarm clock showed. He hadn't slept much but whatever, it didn't matter now anymore he had to be at work in a little over an hour. Sighing he drew the comforter off his body and rose from the bed. He sat on the edge and glanced at the suit lying on the floor, he hadn't even thrown it over a hanger when got home last night because he was so distracted.
"I need you to keep believing in me" she had said, right before she kissed him.
Liz kissed him. Years he had waited, wanting to kiss her but never daring, not wanting to risk losing what they already had. Not daring to believe she felt the same. And then the kiss finally came and he didn't know what to think. She had looked sincere, and her eyes seemed honest, if a little pained. But then she stole his gun. He knew she had played him, and easily too, and it hurt. It hurt because she was the only one who could play him that way and they both knew it. He didn't even notice her hand slip beneath his jacket he was so caught up in her, in the fact that she was finally in his arms, her lips soft beneath his. He had loved her forever and then she had gone and done that. Their first kiss was supposed to be a sweet moment, and it was, he supposed, but then she had hurt him so much.
Sighing, Ressler rose and reached for the clothes strewn on the floor, picking them up and trying to shake out the wrinkles. They were salvageable, he judged, and not having the energy to find something better he decided to wear them again. But first he needed a shower.
As he turned on the shower, and waited for the water to heat up, his mind slipped again to last night. He had tossed and turned all night, trying to sleep but unable to get his mind to quit. Although he was hurt and a little confused, a tiny part of his heart still lept for joy. Liz kissed him. Maybe it was naive or childlike, but he couldn't help but believe that it meant she liked him as well. She could have just reached out and grabbed his gun, she could have used her own, as they both knew Ressler would never use his on her, but she didn't, she kissed him first. It was almost as though she wanted to know what it was like to kiss him, just in case, just in case everything went south as things tended to do lately. He smiled in spite of himself.
Tugging off his boxers, Ressler stepped beneath the scorching jets of water in his shower. He knew that cold water would wake him up better, and make him get out faster and get to work on time, but he just couldn't bring himself to turn the dial. As he scrubbed his body and worked shampoo into his hair he wished that Liz was there with him. He would be lying if he said he didn't want her, he did, he loved her, he knew that, and what was more he admitted it now. For a long time he has fought his feelings and tried to suppress them, but after Liz helped him and Robbie he couldn't help but admit it to himself. He loved her, not a little bit, but completely, like head over heels, follow her every move, in love with her. He had only felt like that once before in his entire life and that was with Audrey.
That was another reason he was so conflicted now. Audrey. He had loved her, he had been ready to spend the rest of his life with her, he had wanted to buy a house and start a family with her. When she died he crashed and it almost cost him everything, including his life. He was at the same place now, different woman, but the same place. And if he lost Liz he was scared he would crash again. So many factors played into his feelings right now that he was beginning to feel overwhelmed.
The sting of shampoo in his eyes brought him back to reality and Ressler rolled his head back to look straight into the spray from the showerhead. When the shampoo was out of both his eyes and hair, Ressler sighed again and shut off the water, because his naturally very pale skin was nearing lobster red. He knew he should get out and get ready for work. He opened the shower door and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. With a resigned shake of his head, he endeavored to put Liz at least to the back of his mind for now and focus on what lay ahead.
Ressler walked into his room and pulled on a pair of clean underwear and then his suit pants. Buttoning his shirt, he thought of how he had begged her to come in with him to the post office. But even as he said the words he knew she wouldn't. He really wished she would for several reasons. First as an agent, he knew it was her best choice, and possibly her only chance at ever being in the FBI again. Secondly, that way he would be able to help her, as she would always be within reach. And thirdly, most selfishly, because that would give them a chance to see what could come between them. But on the other hand if she did come in she would never get the answers she deserved and he wanted that for her. Honestly, he was a little curious himself.
Sitting on his bed to put on his socks he looked at the strewn sheets and blankets but he couldn't be bothered to fix it, which was unlike him. He wasn't a neat freak bit he wasn't overly messy either and he usually made his bed.
7:38 the alarm clock read now. It was a 15 minute drive, and while he sometimes picked up breakfast on the way, he wasn't hungry right now. Instead he rose and made his way back to the bathroom. He used his towel to dry his hair which tousled and curled rebelliously. He combed it straight and gelled it, then put on his badge and gun, transforming himself into an acceptable looking federal agent. There was no time to shave so that would have to happen later. He doubted the rest of the taskforce would look much better. With a shrug he hit the light switch and headed to his kitchen to find his keys. As he trudged down the hall of his apartment building and headed to his truck, his thoughts turned again to Liz and the fix she was in. He hoped she would reach out to him again to meet up because he didn't know where she was but he desperately wanted to see her again. Now that he had one kiss he didn't think he would be able to survive without the promise of another.