Disclaimer: Percy and Oliver still do not belong to me. No money is being made off of this.

Dedication: This is to Becca, for inspiring me with her beautiful poetry. Go read it here: e, wide eyed into Oliver's eyes. They are such beautiful eyes. Warm and dark and open. There are no secrets there. I can see all of him in his eyes. He hides nothing from me. What must it be like, to have nothing to hide from the world? I cannot imagine. He is unashamed of everything that is him. I search his face, amazed at him, awed by him. My hand rests against his cheek, feeling his soft skin, the slightest hint of stubble discernable under my fingers. I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life as what is before me now. Oliver, beautiful eyed, lips dark from kissing me, smiling at me.

"Why?" The word is torn from my mouth in a hoarse whisper.

"Because you deserve it." He says, placing both his hands on the back of my head, cradling it. I have the sudden, silliest urge to begin crying. I can feel that prickly sensation behind my eyes that precedes the shedding of tears, and I must fight it back. I cannot cry, not after so perfect a moment. In truth, it was the most perfect moment of my life. The feel of Oliver's lips against mine is branded upon my mind. I shudder, exhaling slowly.

"No, I don't." I say softly. I suddenly want him gone. I do not deserve him, this! I am wholly unworthy. And I feel almost as though I have sullied him in some way, made him something less then he is by allowing this intimate contact.

"Stuff it, Perce." Oliver says, brushing his lips against mine again. I shiver, that touch sending so many things through my body. Doesn't he understand? Doesn't he see what he is doing to me? He is teasing me, showing me glimpses of things I shall never have.

"Please...." I mumble, all the while longing for those sweet, soft lips to capture mine and never let them go. "Don't do this..."

"Why? What's wrong?" There is genuine concern in his voice. He rubs my cheek with his thumb, pressing his forehead against mine.

"I...I'm not like you." I say, hopelessly, desperately.

"What do you mean?" Soft. Assuring. Gentle. His voice is soothing, but I can feel the tears seeping from the corners of my eyes even as I hear the soft sigh of my heart breaking. "Percy, what's wrong?"

And his lips are brushing my cheekbones, kissing the tracks of tears I cannot stop. My shoulders shake, and I long to take him in my arms and let him hold me, rock me, assure me that all is well. But I cannot give in like that. I cannot delude myself, if even for a moment. I take a deep breath, speaking calmly even through my tears.

"Oliver." I say calmly, my eyes meeting his unflinchingly. I pause, but not for long. We are both adults, and when one adult invites another adult up to their flat after a date, there is generally only one reason. "Where will you be come morning? Don't answer. You will be back wherever it is you came from. And I..." I shudder, swallowing hard. Why do I always do this? Deny myself the things I long for most?

"Oh, Perce..." He kisses my forehead, and his kisses are a soothing balm, as though his lips are pressing not against my skin but my soul. "You don't know I'm not going to be here in the morning."

"You've no reason to stay." I do not mean for my voice to sound so pleading, so pained. I have done well, to never let my emotions show. Not like this. But now my walls have collapsed around my soul, and my tongue trips over the detritus.

"Sure I do." Oliver says, smoothing my hair with his hand. My tears flow freely now. He doesn't understand what he has done. What he has made me see. He has given me hope, and hope is the last thing a desolate soul should be allowed. I shake my head fiercely, hands rising to bat his forcefully away. I tilt up my chin, almost defiantly. He simply does not understand.

"Oliver, I am sorry. I can't be one of your one night stands." I say it with a sense of dignity and martyrdom. Or so I hope. But I fear it sounded childish and condescending.

"Percy, I'm not looking for a one night stand. I've got a damn good reason to be here in the morning, and that reason is you."

I freeze. I collect my straggling thoughts, shepherding back into some semblance of order. I take a deep breath. He still does not understand. I am not a fling, either. I cannot long for something, have it dangled before me and then ripped away. I know I must bare a bit more of my soul to Oliver, to explain why I must push him away. Why does he have to be so kind to me?

"Oliver." I say, sighing. I take his hands in mine, and smile as warmly as I can. I lick my lips, and take a deep breath. "I am not like you, as I said before. You may be here in the morning, but what about in a week? If I allow this to be, I..." I falter, not able to look him in the eye. My Gryffindor bravery fails me, as I cannot speak these words to his face. "If I allow this, I will fall in love with you."

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