AN: This chapter has not been beta'd yet, so forgive me my mistakes (it took longer than expected). As soon as the revised version is done, I'll place it up.

Delicate

Chapter 3: More

"We might live

Like never before

When there's nothing to give

Well how can we ask for more"

The day had begun bright and cheerful, it was the perfect summer day. Sweet scents of summer wildflowers filled the air as a cool breeze passed through the surrounding trees. The strong aroma of the sweet blossoms almost masked the smell of smoke, oil, and hot metal that filled the train station in Oxford.

Sitting upon a bench, smartly dressed in a gray suit, was Peter Pevensie. He was but a shadow of the boy he used to be, and no one could deny that he behaved older than his twenty years gave him credit for. Looking at his wrist, he checked the time again wondering why the important trains always seemed to arrive late. Softly he tapped his foot on the pavement as the nervous feeling crept into his stomach. Turning his head down the tracks he heard the sharp squeal of a train whistle moving closer at a rapid pace.

Brushing the imaginary lint off of his trousers and jacket lapel, he stood in the middle of the platform waiting for the arriving train to come to a complete stop. Hands in his pockets, he rocked back and forth on his heels as passenger after passenger came off. Not one was the person he was looking for.

Walking down the platform he noticed something familiar in one of the carriage's windows. It was a sky blue hat sitting on top of a head with raven curls. Matching the owner as she walked down the aisle, he was not surprised when she launched herself into his arms after exiting the train carriage.

"You're late," Peter said beaming as he let her go to pick up her bags from the porter. "I see you liked your birthday gift I sent you," he spoke while gesturing to her hat.

Susan smiled warmly at Peter as they walked to his automobile. "Well, I have been waiting to wear it on the perfect occasion, and I thought today was it."

Placing the luggage in the boot of the car, Peter opened the passenger door for Susan to get in. Quickly he ran to the other side and entered the vehicle himself. Turning the key, it took about three tries before the engine turned over. Peter sheepishly looked away knowing Susan was used to rich luxury coaches from her suitors and his compared to those looked like a horse and carriage. Yet Susan just kept smiling enjoying the ride to Peter's flat.

"So where have all your mates gone off to that would allow me to come visit my elder brother?" Susan questioned with a coy smile.

"Well if you must know, they all went on holiday with their girls to the seaside," he responded matter of factly.

"And why did you not go with them?" she said trying to make some sort of small talk to keep her mind away from thoughts of snogging him senseless right then and there and to find out the details of Peter's life.

Peter glanced at her with a smile knowing what she was after. "For one I don't have the money like they do. Secondly I did not have a girl to take with me and did not want to be a spare wheel."

He paused taking a breath as he made a left hand turn down a small street that was more like an alley. Susan stared back at him with on going eyes with the hope he would continue with his explanations.

"Oh. That's it then," she said succinctly with a tinge of hurt to her voice.

"And," he emphasized, " why would I want to go with them when a beautiful woman was coming to me?"

Smiling Susan leaned over and kissed his cheek. "A better answer."

Finally the car came to a halt outside of an old brick building. Getting out of the vehicle, Peter made his way to Susan's side to open the door for her. His well bred manners made it impossible for him not to. Susan stared at the building, marveling at the history it must have had. Losing herself in her daydream, Susan did not notice Peter joining her with the suitcases.

Setting one case down he pointed towards the top story. "That's the flat. It's not much but it works. I hope you don't mind a couple flights of stairs."

Shaking her head Susan entered the foyer of the building and began the trudge up the mountain of steps, Peter close behind her. Handing her traveling case to her, Peter fished in his pocket for the key to the door.

The flat was very orderly and neat, if not a little bare. In the main common area there was a small kitchen furnished with a tiny table that could hardly fit more than four around it. A faded sofa furnished the living room with a low coffee table in front of it. A single end table with a very tacky lamp on top stood by the sofa. In the corner was another table with a wireless radio on its surface. By it sat an over stuffed chair that appeared very cozy. But what struck Susan's interest above everything else was the bookshelf that lined a wall. Gazing at the titles she saw that there was an entire shelf belonging solely to Peter with books she had given him for Christmases, Boxing Days, and birthdays.

Taking off her gloves and hat, Susan set the items along with her purse on the low table in front of the couch as she gazed around the apartment. Large windows allowed plenty of light to shine in and from them Susan could see the bell tower on the university's campus.

"What is the verdict on my place of residence?" Peter asked returning from his bedroom where he placed Susan's belongings.

Turning her gaze away from the view Susan smiled. "It's cleaner than I expected."

Peter smiled back at her comment letting a laugh escape his lips. "It does help when there's only one of us here to keep the place orderly. Would you like some tea?" Peter offered as he made his way into the kitchenette.

"Tea would be lovely," Susan replied as she settled herself into the comfy chair.

"You'll be staying in my bedroom, which is down the hall over there," he gestured to the left as he filled the kettle. "The bathroom is the other door across from it."

"And where will you stay, Peter? Surely not in your mates' rooms?"

"Oh, I'll stay on the sofa. It's no bother," he replied with a smile as he leaned on the kitchen counter.

Rising from her chair, she walked to the leaning Peter only to place a kiss on his lips and hold his hands in both of hers. "Such nonsense. That sofa is entirely too small for you. We can share your room like we did back at home when I had a nightmare."

Choking down the lump that formed in his throat, Peter felt as though the room had risen ten degrees.The shrill whistle of the kettle interrupted their moment and Peter thought it could not be soon enough for he was entirely too involved with thoughts of Susan in his bed. They sat down on the sofa cuddled together with their teacups planning out the week they would have together.

The days passed in a flurry. One day Peter took her to the campus telling her stories of all the historical events that happened in one place or an amusing tale of one of his mates instead. One afternoon was spent sitting under a very old oak on one of the grassy lawns. Susan had packed a picnic basket, and Peter had brought a manuscript with John Keats' poetry. It was a lazy affair filled with caresses, and kisses. They lived the day like never before. Gone was the secrecy, for there was no one to catch them here.

Returning to the apartment, Susan accosted Peter as soon as he stepped through the door. Peter of course returned her kisses with his own. Very quickly Susan found herself pressed against the hall wall, Peter's body against hers as his hands mussed her hair and his lips trailed kisses down her long neck.

Peter smiled as a purr escaped from Susan. Soon he found her hands unbuttoning his shirt and though he desperately wanted her to continue he knew that if they crossed that line, he could never forgive himself. One day he knew there would be a right time, but that day was not today. He did not want to taint their perfectly romantic afternoon with lust.

Reaching for her hands, he pushed them away from his shirt. "Susan, no more."

She continued as if she hadn't heard him and merely replied, "Why not Peter?"

"We can't. Not yet," he forced out as the wandering hands on his chest almost made his resolve disappear.

Stopping, Susan looked at him with hurt in her eyes, the tears beginning to pool. "So that's it, is it Peter? You take everything from me and give nothing back," she spoke roughly, charging into his bedroom and throwing her things hastily back into their cases. With a loud thud she slammed them shut and made her way to the door. "I can't continue like that," she continued with finality.

"Susan,' Peter began smoothly trying to edge away her apparent anger, "Come unpack your things and lets talk instead."

"I'm sick of talking, Peter!" Susan exclaimed as she entered the leaving room. "All I hear is talk. "

"Susan…" Peter began only to be interrupted by his sister.

"If there's nothing more, then I am leaving." The sobs broke through her voice as she tried her best to choke them back. Steadily, like a queen, she began her walk to the door again.

"I have nothing else to give Susan!" Peter roared back at her in desperation, hoping she would turn away from the door. "You occupy my thoughts constantly in wakefulness or sleep, what more can you ask for?"

Peter felt like he was drowning, gasping for air and flailing towards the surface. If Susan walked out that door, he was afraid that he would never be able to repair the damage. His world began and ended with her.

Halting with her hand on the door handle, she lifted her head.

"What of your heart, Peter? If I do not have that, then there is no use for us to carry on like this."

The salty tears fell upon her cheeks leaving trails of pain and sorrow. There she waited, wondering if she did leave could they go back to being just brother and sister, if they could return to what they had before. She could pretend to forget, but she knew that if he found someone else, a piece of herself would die, much like it did when Aslan had said she was too grown up to return.

Three long strides were all it took Peter to reach Susan. With great speed, he whipped her around pressing her body between his own and the door. Gently he brushed away the tears that fell from her eyes, caressing her porcelain cheeks with his thumb.

"You have always had my heart, Susan. Before I ever even knew I had given it to you."

Pressing his lips against hers with hunger, Susan knew she need never ask for more, for she had everything in Peter.