She didn't know what to expect when she heard the soft click of the doorknob. He sounded genuine in his plea – asking to stay the night. Was it to take her innocence or take his pain? Neither knew the answer. He was distraught; it was evident in his furrowed brow. One, two, three, four – she couldn't remember how many times she counted those lines. She couldn't remember when she started counting them. All she knew was, each line held him back. Each line was a bar holding him in. Each line kept her out of his soul. Each line was her reminder that he could be saved.

She wouldn't deny it. She needed to be needed. She wanted to be wanted. It was only fair. She was one of many James'.

"Are these all your brothers and sisters?" he once asked.

"Yeah," she returned. "I'm the youngest. I don't think my parents know what to do with the silence."

And he sat on her bed. She could see the longing in his eyes. The round pupils teemed with desire. He wanted her, and she liked it.

And there they were, he on her bed, questioning her with his eyes, she looking anywhere but him. When did it come to this? she wondered. She wasn't ashamed. She was mildly amused, actually. She wasn't stupid. He was using her in the beginning, could still be using her. She was shocked to discover that she didn't care. Whether he knew it or not, she was using him. He needed her and she needed him. It was a mutual, fervent necessity. He needed her love, care, and affection. She needed to give them. It was a pleasant bargain – more than either of them had hoped for.

Still no one moved. Her hands rested upon her doorknob. She lay casually against the wall. It was impossible for him not to notice the small shred of skin protruding from the small confines of her shirt. He wanted her and he knew, somewhere, that she wanted him. He could tell she knew, knew that he was staring, knew that he was thinking about her and he slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. And there he saw the confirmation he needed. He was still weak. He could feel it, and she could see it. But the confirmation, the affirmation, the ok, it was there – and he felt at peace.

She walked slowly over to him. Each step bringing her closer to him, both of their bodies were on fire. The closer she came, the more palpable the sexual necessity. The hairs on the back of her neck were on end, and his fingers kept twitching in anticipation. Both knew that nothing would happen, but the fact that it could, that it might, caused both of them to throw caution, care, thought and any rationale out the window.

She slowly lowered herself upon his lap, watching his face intently; searching for any sign of pain or revulsion. She found none. He kept full eye contact, never betraying his true emotions. He wanted to cry. Here she was, his to take and he wouldn't.  Not today, he thought. Another time, when my intentions are clearer, when my head is clearer, when clarity is pummeling the door down.

There they were. Intertwined in a lover's embrace. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and his arms around hers. Her arms found their way around his neck, placing themselves along his broad shoulders. Their foreheads touched, ever so lightly, enough that they were in contact and enough that they could just watch each other. He would occasionally brush her hair back, gently, lovingly. She unconsciously played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. It was sheer bliss, being in each other's arms. No words were spoken. No words were necessary.

They sat that way until she could feel him tiring beneath her. She fixed him with an inquisitive gaze. He nodded.

Slowly removing her arms, relocating her legs from around his waist to the hardwood floor of her bedroom, she reluctantly disengaged herself from his grasp. He lethargically let her go. She treaded to her closet and pulling the sliding door to the left – exposing her dresser. She wasn't uncomfortable, as she should have been. He wasn't aggressive, as he usually was. She pulled her shirt over her head and detached the hook of her bra from its holding place.

He couldn't help but stare. He knew where she was going, from her look, and he was prepared to speak out – to break the tranquility of the moment – and ask if he should move but she made no sign of resistance. He could stay if he'd like. He was hers for the night. As the back of her upper body was exposed to him, he longed to touch her. To feel her creamy, olive skin under his calloused hands. He wanted to know every curve, birthmark and whatever else nature blessed her with. He wouldn't budge from his seat on her bed, tonight would not be the night and it did not matter. They had their entire lives ahead of them to explore each other.

She turned her head back to look at him. She could feel his stare along her body. She reveled in it. She was wanted and she enjoyed it immensely. She smiled slightly at him before turning her head around to search for a shirt to sleep in. As she bent down to grab one, another flew past her shoulder and landed on the floor. She spun her head around again to see that he was wearing his undershirt. She looked at him quizzically. He raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded in the direction of the strewn shirt. He wanted her to wear it.

She complied with his unsaid request. She picked it up gingerly. Before placing it upon her body, she breathed in his scent, a mix of deodorant, cologne and sweat. It soothed her to her core. She quickly stripped off her jeans and was left in his oversized shirt and her underwear. She was nervous and she couldn't understand why.

She gradually turned around. She was biting her lip. There she was, in his black shirt and nothing else, visible to the eye anyway, and right then, he wanted to tear her apart. He wanted to steal the innocence she had. He wanted to taint her with his pain and anguish. He wanted her all to himself. He had always known he was a selfish person, he just didn't fully comprehend how much until he saw her there.

Her auburn hair was down, as it had been the entire day. She bit her lips out of nervousness and he couldn't help but chuckle. Haley James, he thought, nervous?

She chortled in return. She was thinking the same thing. No one made Haley James nervous, and if they did, she would not have shown it. But around Nathan, everything changed. What was so right, so reasonable, so planned, became wrong, irrational and inadvertent. She never felt shame for the things she felt and the way things were with them, she just couldn't help but notice it. Walls were crumbling, but were they hers or his?

With great difficulty, he managed to pull off his exercise pants. She could only watch. There we was, on her bed, stripping down to his bare essentials and it could not have felt any more right. He was in his niche when it came to basketball, but when they were together, alone, they were each other's sole place of comfort. He performed well on court and she with her head. They balanced each other, complemented each other, completed each other.

She traipsed toward him and when she arrived at her destination, she was between his legs, leaning against her bed for support. She bent down and placed a light kiss on each line of Nathan's forehead. His brow wasn't furrowed, but it didn't have to be. She had seen him stressed before and whenever he was anxious or angry, there they were. His lines. She kissed each one, knowing full well that it was relaxing him. He closed his eyes in rest. She stopped abruptly to take in his appearance. He was calm. She had never seen him so serene and she relished in the fact that she abetted to that feeling. He felt her stop and he opened his eyes. A cobalt blue meeting a russet brown. He broke the silence.

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

"Always the sweet-talker, Scott."

"No, I mean it." And he did. His eyes poured warmth. He was promising her now. He was promising the present. He was promising her him.

"Yeah, well, you're not too shabby yourself." She smiled at him. Her classic, genuine smile. It was different though. It was more genuine, if that's even possible, she thought. She had to tell him what she was feeling. He needed the reassurance. He didn't have to say it. She could see it whenever they were together. She could feel it whenever he kissed her. It was assurance that she wouldn't hurt him, not like his dad.

Is this love? she thought. Even if it is, I can't tell him. Not now. But she couldn't help herself from thinking that she had to. That it was inappropriate, rushed, inconceivable. They had only been dating for a few weeks. They were absolute opposites. He held everything in the palm of his hand, everything a game he had to win. She held nothing and wanted nothing. She was there, for the world to see, take it or leave it. But she felt it. It was there. Coursing through her veins. Pumping her blood. My heart races too, she thought. She wouldn't say it, but she tried to show it.

She placed a tender kiss upon his lips. "I'm here Nathan. I'm not leaving. If either of us is going to leave, it's going to be you because I am rooted to this spot. To this moment. You and I," she grinned, it reminded her of past conversations, "we're here." She placed her hand on his chest, right above his heart and took his and placed it in the identical location on her body. "Right here. Do you feel that Nathan?" She looked directly into his eyes. "My heart's racing. That's what happens when I'm around you." They both smiled, recalling the last time that phrase was said.

And she knew he knew. She loved him and she wouldn't stop. Is this what love feels like? they thought simultaneously. It felt good.

He brought his lips to hers in a searing kiss. It was one filled with passion and longing. They explored each other's mouths as if for the first time. They pulled away, gasping for air. She felt dizzy and content and she grinned. He couldn't help but grin back. He knew he was good. She playfully slapped him upside the head, knowing instinctively what he was thinking.

"Ow!" he exclaimed. "Well, if I knew my kisses would bring you pleasure and me pain, I wouldn't have kissed you that first time," he joked.

"Really? I thought you wanted to." She was eying him.

"So what if I did? It was a spur of the moment thing."

"Sure, ok. Then I guess I'll get off----" she was quieted with a kiss. She could play the game just as well as he could and he knew that. He didn't want banter tonight, he wanted her. She pulled away from the kiss and him. He looked at her longingly, questioningly. She smiled, knowing she was getting to him. She walked around the bed to her desk and turned off the light.

"Let's get some sleep."

He knew she was right. She helped him get under the covers and when he was tucked him, she kissed him lovingly on the lips.

"Get in here!" she teasingly commanded.

She did as she was told. She walked to the other side of bed and slid under the covers. Immediately, his arm found its way around her waist. She scooted closer to him, loving the feeling the Nathan Scott against her body. Her eyes felt heavy.

"Haley?"

"Mm-hmm?" she replied, drowsily.

"Thank you." He stated sincerely.

"For what?"

"Everything."

"I should say the same to you. Everything came alive when we kissed, I don't want that to go away. I love you, Nathan." She said sleepily.

"I love you, too."

And it was said. It was impossible, and they knew that, but it didn't stop it from happening. It was all so sudden, but it didn't make it any less strong or powerful.

There they lay, fitting perfectly into each other's arms. Haley was soon breathing deeply, signifying she had fallen asleep. Her breathing soothed Nathan. At that moment, he realized that he wanted to spend every moment with her, just like this, completely at peace. Few words were needed for what they had, what they felt, and he felt any vocalization of their feelings would taint it. As he began drifting into unconsciousness, Haley snuggled closer to him. He looked down at her and placed a kiss atop her head.

"We're going to spend the rest of our lives together, Haley. You won't get rid of me that easily." He smiled and was soon fast asleep.