A/N: Another new chapter! I hope you're still enjoying this story. Read/Review/Follow/Favorite
The next few days they established a routine of eating breakfast together, taking care of the goats and chickens, then sharing dinner before turning in for the night. James tried to entertain her with stories about his interactions with Shuri and Ayo. He could tell she began to like them more and more as he told her all the inspiring things Ayo had said and all the crazy things Shuri had said. Though he liked telling her about what he had done since Siberia, James couldn't help but wonder what she had done. Every time he tried to get information out of her, Danielle would lock down and divert the conversation. He didn't know what had happened to her, but he realized it wasn't good.
"Are we done for the day?" Asked Danielle.
James set down the bucket he was carrying inside the shed. "Yeah, I think so."
"Good," said Danielle. "I'm going to take a shower." She walked off toward the hut, leaving James behind. He locked up the shed and played with the goats for twenty minutes to give her the time she needed. When he walked into the hut, she was towel drying her hair. It was like he walked into a memory as he watched her standing in the doorway like he had seen countless times when they were together.
She noticed him staring. "What?"
James forced his eyes to the floor. "Nothing."
"Okay." She didn't buy it.
He looked up at her, straightening his back a little more. "Are you done in the shower?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to take one then." He walked toward her to get in the bathroom.
"Good. Because you stink." She threw the towel she had been using at his face and gave him a grin.
The towel covered his face for a second before he pulled it away in his hand. He took in her devilish grin and shook his head. "You think you're funny, don't you?"
"Maybe a little." Her bouncy little steps toward the kitchen told him how funny she thought she was.
James watched her as he entered the bedroom until the doorway blocked her from view. He entered the bathroom and turned on the shower to warm up the water. As he waited his mind drifted to memories of taking a shower and stepping out to find Danielle waiting for him in their bed. Back when she wasn't guarded against him and he had her trust. Back to a place he wished he could go.
Finishing his shower, James turned off the water and grabbed his towel. After dressing in clean clothes, James returned to the kitchen to find Danielle waiting at the table with two plates of food set out. He took the open seat across from her and studied his plate. Spaghetti was swirled perfectly in the middle of the plate with a ladle of sauce and a dusting of parmesan cheese covering the top. It looked like it belonged on a cooking show. James had never made a meal like this in his life.
"What's all this?" He asked.
"I thought spaghetti sounded good." Danielle reached for her fork and began eating.
"I haven't had spaghetti in a long time." James pointed at his plate. "And it never looked like this."
"I'm sure your mom made you spaghetti."
James took a bite before speaking. "She made spaghetti, but it was usually handmade with old flour that didn't bind right, and the sauce was one tomato crushed into a pulp and mixed with water. It wasn't a good time for spaghetti during the depression, or the war."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories. Sometimes I forget…" She trailed off.
"How old I am?" James supplied before taking a large bite.
She snorted and shook her head. "I was going to say that I forget you're not from here, but we can go with how old you are."
James finished chewing as he spoke. "What about you? DId your mom make you spaghetti?"
Danielle wiped her mouth with her napkin. "Actually, no. My dad was a better cook than my mom, but don't tell her I said that."
James pretended to lock his mouth shut and throw away the key, then he immediately opened it to shovel another forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.
"He would only make it on special occasions: birthdays, anniversaries, holidays that didn't have predetermined foods."
"What does that mean?"
"You know, like how for Thanksgiving you have turkey, for Easter you have ham, and for the Fourth of July you have hot dogs."
James raised an eyebrow. "People do that?"
"Yes. Was that not a thing when you were growing up?" Danielle stared at him.
He shrugged. "I guess I never paid attention. I understand the turkey thing, but I don't remember having a set meal for other holidays."
"Interesting." Danielle ate another bite as their conversation drifted away.
James, who had mostly finished his plate, looked at her across the table. His body language said he was relaxed, but the flick of his eyes revealed how agitated he was sitting in the opposite chair. Danielle noticed his eyes looking her up and down, like he was scanning her for something. She swallowed her most recent bite of food, then wiped her mouth.
"Is something wrong?" She asked, forcing his eyes to meet hers.
"I need to tell you something." He replied.
"Okay."
She waited for him to speak, but instead he stood up and moved his chair to the spot at the table beside her. He sat down gently, his knee barely brushing hers under the table, and he reached for her hand. Danielle let him cover her hand that rested on the table, her eyes moving between their joined hands and his eyes.
"I need to tell you that I'm sorry," he began. "I'm sorry that I lied to you. I'm sorry that I restrained you. I'm sorry that I left you behind." He took a deep breath as the words settled between them.
"James, I–" Danielle shook her head and stood from the table to distance herself, positioning her back toward him. "You don't have to say anything. It was a long time ago."
"No," he stood and approached her, "you're right to be angry with me, and you have every right to never want to see me again."
"You're damn right I do!" She yelled with more force than she thought she could muster.
James stared blankly at her which only fueled her fire more. She spun to face him.
"I risked my job for you! I risked my life for you! I risked everything for you! And how do you repay me? You leave me restrained inside a burning building, you let me rot in a cell for weeks, you let me wonder where you were for months, and when I finally have my chance to bring you in, you convince me to let you go." The tears burned at Danielle's eyes.
She swiped at her face and turned away. "I don't know what I'm doing here."
"I want–You need–" James stared at her back as he tried to think of something to say.
He started again. "Do you know what saved me? Ayo told me during our meditations that I needed to find my center. At first I didn't know what that was. She had to trigger the soldier for me to even imagine it, but I only got a clear picture in my mind during my final trial."
James paused, hoping she might turn around. When she didn't, he continued.
"Sitting by a fire in the woods, with my mind and my body trying to rip me apart, I focused on my center, and the image that appeared in my head was you."
Danielle stiffened at his revelation.
"It was your warm smile and your dazzling eyes. It was you coming back to me, and saving me from myself. You saved me."
Danielle squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to stop her tears. She balled her fists and found the strength she needed. "I need to leave."
"I still love you!"
"Don't!" She pointed her finger at him as a warning sign. "You don't get to do that."
James took a step toward her. "Do what?"
"Say you love me and think everything will be okay. It's not okay, James."
"It's the truth," he said, still walking toward her.
Danielle began to back up, creating more distance. "Well, I hate you. That's my truth."
"No, it's not." He was closer now.
"You don't get to decide what's true." Danielle's back hit the wall.
"I do when I know how you lie." James closed the distance, stopping a few inches short of touching her, but she could feel his breath on her skin. "Lie to me again."
Danielle held eye contact. "I hate you."
His lips crashed down to hers in a fraction of a second, while his hand grabbed the back of her neck to pull her to him. His hips pinned her to the wall, ensuring she had nowhere to go.
At first, her brain was shocked into a paralyzed state where she could see, hear, feel, smell, and taste everything, but her body wasn't under her control. Instead as he moved against her, her body answered him. Her lips moved the way he wanted them to and her hands clutched at his waist to support them both.
She gained a slight moment of clarity when his lips moved from her lips to her neck and she was free to speak. "I hate you."
"Liar," he growled before covering her mouth with his, eliciting a moan from deep within her chest.
Without a reason, or the will to protest, Danielle gave in to his passion, and let him move her the way he wanted. As much as she had tried to deny it, she was in love with James, and her body knew what her mind wouldn't believe.
