You love me, but you don't even know what you do to me…

A/N: I realised that Lizzy moved after she came back from Alaska. :') Her apartment no longer has an open plan kitchen. So I'm pretending it does, when Agnes comes back it definitely does and that's whats been in my mind.

Some nice fluffiness before angst descends. I'm ignoring the final two scenes with her and Red because it doesn't fit my narrative and I really miss the feisty Lizzy that jammed a pen into his neck in S1. I want to see that kind of rage and passion cos you know it would be like that. C'mon. Mixed POV.

The. End was unexpected.

Song is: You Love Me - Flora Cash.

And I try to think it through, but it's fantasy…

In half an hour she'd managed to shower and change, washing away the grime of the day. There was so much running through her head, that she couldn't keep track of it. The last time she'd spoken to Reddington, they hadn't left it on the best of terms, he'd hung up abruptly and now he was coming over. At least he'd given her a heads up she supposed. She was just reheating some left over takeaway and pouring herself a glass of wine when there was a soft knock at the door.

Red took in her appearance as the door swung wide, she was dressed in pyjama bottoms and an oversized sweatshirt complete with chunky socks, her hair loose twisted together over one of her shoulders. He smiled when her eyes met his.

'You knock?' She asked sarcastically, a tentative smile spreading across her beautiful face.

'It's a new thing I'm trying…' He replied lightly, 'What is that Godawful smell?' He asked scrunching up his nose. She turned looking over her shoulder as he stepped across the threshold into her space.

'Ohhh… That was my dinner…' She informed him, realising it did smell kind of off adorably scrunching up her own nose.

'Here…' He said handing her a bag, 'I picked this up on my way over, thought you might be hungry…' He stepped passed her, tugging off his coat and placing it against the back of one to the chairs. He noted her thanks, crossing the room and standing to take in her make shift murder board, silently noting changes whilst she rustled in the bag behind him.

'There's only one here? Where's yours?' She questioned looking over at him, her brow furrowed. He turned watching her movements in the kitchen.

'It's for you, I already ate…' He walked back to the counter, lifting the wine bottle to read the label. She handed him a glass and he carried the bottle and two glasses to the table.

'We got cut off earlier…' He said, turning to face her as she came to sit at the table, one leg tucked under her. She looked up from her food, her eyes hooded as she waved him off, chewing for a moment.

'I don't want to talk about it…' She told him, enthusiastically taking another bite.

'But you're okay?' He asked, pulling out the other chair to sit at the table opposite her. He topped up her wine and poured one for himself. He took a sip waiting for her to finish chewing. 'Well this is terrible…' He grimaced, swallowing another mouthful.

She shrugged, 'It's drinkable…' She looked away, her mood shifting subtly. 'But this is good…' She pointed to the food in front of her. He smiled, nodding briefly enjoying the sight of her eating hungrily.

'Remind me to get you some better wine.' He offered, concerned as he picked up the bottle again. She was silent, chewing her food thoughtfully and not looking his way. 'You didn't answer my question…' He prompted. She frowned, chewing slowly delaying the inevitable. He knew the answer of course. She wasn't okay. She moved her leg from under her, bouncing her foot against the floor in agitation.

'No, I'm not okay but really I don't want to talk about it…' She shifted uncomfortably avoiding his gaze, placing her fork down and taking a large gulp of wine.

He placed a hand over her still one, 'I'm sorry about your witness…' He offered, the stirrings of guilt pitting his stomach. She turned her hand to hold his, squeezing gently. She released his hand to cradle her head in her own. She closed her eyes as he placed a hand on her arm, moving to her shoulder where it rested. He squeezed gently.

'What do you need?' He asked softly, a frown consuming his face. He knew he had caused this, her suffering. She sniffed, trying to conceal the emotions she was feeling.

'To forget everything…' She rubbed her hands over her face, 'And sleep…' Her hands dropped to her lap as she deflated leaning back in her seat.

'Well go, I'll clean up…' He offered as she looked up at him, biting her lip in hesitation.

'It only works if you come with me…' She murmured with uncertainty, he frowned not following her line of thought.

'What does?' He asked, his hand running down the length of her arm before dropping back to the table.

'Forgetting…' Her eyes were wide, waiting with apprehension for him to acquiesce. His belly flipped, butterflies tingling up his spine.

He nodded once, 'Go, I'll be there in a minute…' He took out his phone sending Dembe a quick text as she disappeared into the bathroom, he heard the faucet switch on.

He cleared the table, putting the unfinished food into the fridge and corking the wine, biding his time. His mind was trying to convince him that this wasn't a good idea as he rolled up his sleeves to wash the glasses and the cutlery. His body was telling him something entirely different. She came out the bathroom and disappeared into the bedroom, her scent wafting in her wake filling his head with crazy notions as he remembered her leg draped across him. He swallowed half hoping she would already be asleep when he was done. He wiped his hands and slowly moved to turn out the lights, he kicked off his shoes then made his way to the bedroom. The lamp was on but she was curled up on her side, the covers pulled up under her chin. He sat down on the edge of the bed, when she didn't turn he reached out a hand to stroke down her hair to her shoulder. He decided resolutely if she was asleep, he would go but then she turned, her face wet with tears. Her eyes seeking out his in a silent plea. He pulled at his tie, loosening it and then popped a button on his shirt, the thought of her fingers against his skin too much to resist. He lay back, placing his feet under the covers. She reached up to turn out the lamp then moved into him. Her warmth welcoming him, he extended his arm, placing it around her shoulders as she moved closer still. She lay her head against his shoulder, nestling her face into his neck as she had done before. This closeness was new but he wasn't complaining. Her foot moved against his, her toes moving against the ball of his foot, he flinched slightly at the tickling sensation before her toes stilled. Her hand moved from his abdomen, up his chest to the crook of his neck. She let out a small sigh, like she'd been waiting for this moment.

'Thank you…' She whispered against him, her eyes fluttering closed. She pulled his arm closer so both were wrapped tightly around her before her fingers brushed faintly against the light hairs on his forearm. She took a deep breath, sighing it back out. She moved inching closer, her leg twitching like she wanted to move it but didn't as her toes settled against his foot once again.

His mind began to whir, part of him wanting to ask her again if she already knew the truth so he could pull her thigh across him and move his fingers across her bare skin but he listened to her breathing begin to even out. Her body melding against his as she relaxed into sleep. He moved his arm, reaching for her hair, her face, something to remind him it was actually her. He wanted to look at her, watch her sleep so he moved onto his side slightly, dislodging her grip. She jumped involuntarily, her eyes snapping open. She gripped his arm tightly,

'You aren't going are you?' She worried sleepily, her fingers moving to his shirt to grasp the fabric.

'No…' He murmured, pulling her back into him and kissing her brow, 'Just getting comfortable, go back to sleep.' He stroked the length of her hair to her shoulder, his fingers lightly trailing down her arm.

'I need this off…' She struggled for a moment, sitting up and removing the sweatshirt before falling back into his arms, fitting perfectly like she'd always belonged there. His arm came around her, a rush of emotion overcame him as she pulled him closer. Her head tilting upwards to face him, he watched her eyes flutter closed. His finger lightly trailed her face, moving her hair back before running down her shoulder and side, coming to a stop at the small of her back, lightly caressing her soft skin there. Her skin reacting to his touch, spreading goosebumps out under his fingertips. She moaned softly, arching into him, her grip tightening against his chest. Her lips parted slightly, her foot finding his, she hooked her calf around his. She sighed, her hand reaching for his neck. 'Wake me before you go…' She whispered sleepily.

'I've had enough…' She stormed into Selma's office as soon as the woman opened the door. 'Why is he so Goddamn confusing? I want to retake the DNA test.' She ranted, crossing the floor and turning by the window.

She was literally shaking, seething all the way over to Selma's office after waking up alone. At first she was hurt and then the rage began to creep back in under her skin. They'd lost the only witness to Singleton's murder and he'd left her without saying goodbye, again.

Selma sat down in her usual seat, a polite smile on her lips. She looked up her eyes connected with Elizabeth's sheepish ones.

'I'm sorry, I've had a rough few days…' She admitted softly, taking a calming breath.

'Tell me…' Selma asked, her smile spreading as Elizabeth sat heavily in the chair opposite, a scowl etched on her face.

'Argh!' She growled her frustration, 'I don't even know where to start…' She threw up her hands.

'Well last time we spoke, you found the man who killed Tom, and Detective Singleton had been murdered, presumably by the same man?'

'Yes, and we found a witness to Singleton's murder pinning it on Garvey but Garvey got to him too…' She ran a hand across her face.

'When did this happen?' Selma asked, jotting down some notes.

'A few days ago before I went to Pennsylvania… I know I can't do anything about it but he was such sweet kid, stepping up to do what was right and now he's just… Gone.' Her voice breaking at the end, Selma nodded.

'And what's happening with you and Mr Reddington? Selma asked, watching as Elizabeth squirmed, she slumped back into the chair as if deflated. She looked away, watching the trees on the street outside the window.

'If I tell you something, you won't judge me right?' She said suddenly serious, her brow furrowed, turning back and holding Selma's gaze.

'I'm not here to judge you…' She told her matching Elizabeth's tone.

'That doesn't help me feel any better.' She said a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, her cheekbones colouring.

'I won't judge you Liz. I am here to listen and be impartial. I can't do that unless you tell me what's going on' She offered, the smile spreading to her brown eyes.

'When I was recovering and I would have sleep paralysis, he would come and wake me…' She paused. 'Comfort me… He would sit by my bed, fall asleep in the chair beside me…' She began tentatively, the flush still present against her skin. She avoided the woman's gaze, looking down at her hands.

Selma was quiet waiting for the younger woman to finish.

'Until… We started…' she huffed out a breath, why was this so difficult. They'd not done anything wrong. 'He would… Or rather it was me that started it…' She hesitated, Selma raised quizzical eye brows.

'Started what?' Selma watched her for a moment conflicted over her choice over words.

'He would hold me… For as long as I wanted…' She began again, almost cringing over her words. The flush spreading across her cheeks.

'There's nothing wrong with that?' Selma reassured, her eyebrows pulling together in concern.

'No but…' She huffed, looking up to the ceiling, 'I would pull him to my bed and he would hold me until I fell asleep…' She took a breath, her words coming out in a rush.

Selma's face was totally impassive. 'Okay? There's also nothing wrong with that…'

'It became a sort of habit, I couldn't sleep without him for a long time… Without that comfort he provided so it became a regular thing, that we would sleep together…' She admitted sheepishly.

'Okay? You just slept, nothing else just to clarify?' Selma asked, her eyebrows raised but a smile on her lips.

'Just sleeping…' She held her hands out, palms out flat to signify that fact emphatically.

'Did you want it to be something else?' Selma asked curiously, she watched the younger woman blanch, looking down to fiddle with the edge of her coat.

'Not really…' she said softly her eyes holding a measure of shame. Selma raised an eyebrow. 'I mean… It crossed my mind once or twice but I put it down to transference and grief and the fact that I was broken.' She explained in another rush, eager to justify her reaction.

'When did this stop?' Selma asked in soft reassurance holding the other woman's gaze.

'The sleeping together or the desire?' Desire? She'd said desire, she almost cringed with shame but that's what it had been or was now? It was so confusing. He was so confusing. She flushed again, colour spreading out across her pale cheeks.

Selma watched her, a range of emotions playing out across her embarrassed face. 'The sleeping together?' She asked with a quirk of a smile.

'When I wanted to leave but I couldn't cope without him. He cut me off and said we couldn't do it anymore and I would wake up and go into his room… He would never say no. That's why he made me go back to my apartment because that was the only way he knew he could stop me. He ignored me for a week, no contact. We know how I handle that…' She frowned looking down again.

'And now?' She asked, the remnants of a smile still playing on her lips.

'He came over the other night before I left for Pennsylvania. After I had that panic attack over finding Garvey and Singleton's murder…' She began softly.

'He stayed the night?' Selma asked, scribbling something against her notepad.

'Well I don't know because he was gone the next morning… But it happened again last night…' Elizabeth offered, 'He always leaves…'

'This is what you're confused about? Or your 'desire'? For him?'

Elizabeth was taken a back for a moment. Shock stark against her face. To hear it said out loud, spoken by someone else. It has always been a secret too shameful to admit. She shrugged in response.

'Okay, let's break it down. How does it make you feel when you're in his arms?' Selma asked, her tone level.

'Everything seems to stop… My obsessive thoughts, the negative feelings. He just has to touch me and it seems to melt away…' She admitted quietly, avoiding Selma's gaze, 'When he's holding me… I feel…" She paused choosing her words, 'Safe… Warm… Loved… Content? I sleep better when he's there.' Elizabeth admitted softly.

'And the desire?' Selma broached gently.

Elizabeth squirmed again, her eyes cast downward.

'Sometimes I think I want something to happen just to see what he'd do. To test the waters because he wouldn't possibly allow it if he were my father and then other times, I feel this pull and I just want be closer, feel closer. I want more in those moments then I feel guilty and disgusted with myself. I think that just fuels my anger with him even more…' She looked up ashamed convinced she'd see disgust on Selma's face but the older woman's face was impassive.

'How is he in these moments? Are you able to gage his feeling?' She asked then, holding Elizabeth's eye.

'No, but I know he wants to be there even if he doesn't stay the night… It bothers me that he won't stay or say goodbye at least.' She offered demurely.

'You'd like him to?'

'Yes, but then I want to go back to that house by the lake and be there with him, like it was before when it was just us and we talked and he didn't push me away…' She admitted, what she wouldn't give just to go back.

'Do you think that's where these feelings might be coming from, a yearning for a more stable time when you were looked after and felt safe and loved? Or were they present before?'

'I think…They've been present for a long time… I just wouldn't allow myself to admit it.' She could hardly believe she was admitting it now.

'This is why you want to retake the test?' Selma asked, circling back around.

'Yes…' She was definite, sure in her intention.

'How do you think you'll feel if it turns out that he is your biological father?' Selma asked then, approaching this from another side, the side the doctor thought was in fact correct.

Elizabeth frowned, her face darkening. She let out a huffy breath,

'Honestly… I don't know…. Maybe it will put a lid on all of this. It will be done and I will have to take a step back…' She began hesitantly, straightening herself in the seat.

'And if he isn't?' Selma watched her, the emotions playing on her face.

'I'm going to be angry and wonder why the fuck he went along with it but other than that I don't know…'

She stared at the photo on Aram's screen, an ice cold shiver slipping across her back. Sudden nausea pitting her stomach as her mind flashed back to that very morning, when she'd met Reddington in the Sudanese Embassy. She'd been angry, in a bad mood and hadn't paid much attention as one of his goons stepping forward to bid her good morning. But his eyes, one blue, one brown like a wolf.

She felt her chest constrict, her eyes unfocused. 'You…You won't find one.' She murmured, Aram's attention on her.

'Why not?' He asked, watching her lost in her own thoughts.

'B… Because he has no connection to Garvey.' She stammered her shock apparent. Her

mouth downturned, she glanced down at the screen before her eyes met his briefly.

'How do you know that?' He asked, his tone measured.

'Because… He works for Reddington…' Her lip trembled slightly, her eyes downcast before she turned them up to Aram. She swallowed thickly, 'Excuse me…' She said brushing passed him on the way out the door, she sucked in a lungful of air as Aram asked her if she was alright.

She waved him off, she couldn't turned back without him seeing the utter devastation on her face. Her chest was tight, constricting painfully up into her throat as she tried to suck in an even breath. She practically ran across the bullpen, reaching the bathroom and saying a silent prayer of thanks when she remembered Samar was out with Ressler. The tears came as she closed the door behind her, angry hot tears poured out of her as she gasped for breath pounding her fists against the closed door. She sat down heavily against the closed toilet seat, her eyes scrunched shut sucking in breath after breath. How could he do this? How could he do this to her? Did the fucking duffel bag really mean more to him than she did? After last night, after the wanting and the pining and what she'd admitted to Selma, what a fucking idiot she was to think he actually cared about her. She frantically searched around her, trying to focus on the techniques she'd been taught to get her breathing under control. She felt like such an idiot, more than that she felt utterly destroyed. She sucked in a breath taking control trying to grasp the tendrils of her rage somewhere in the depths of herself. She could fall apart later, right now she needed to feel every ounce of anger her body contained.

He was reading in the library of his newly acquired safe house when Dembe disappeared, coming back a few moments later in the wake of a enraged Elizabeth. His eyes flicked up, taking in her appearance, her hair flowing as she stormed across the hard wood parquet.

'Tell me it wasn't you!' her voice boomed out across the high ceiling. She dodged a table, skirting the couch, Dembe trailing her footsteps 'Tell me that, after we finally found a witness to corroborate my I.D. on Garvey, you didn't take him!' She stopped in front of him, standing with her hands loose at her sides, her face scrunched and cheeks flushed. He closed his book, placing it on the table beside him.

'Elizabeth, hold on.' He asked, his tone unhurried as he stood in front of the raging woman.

'No. I will not let you avoid a direct question to try and confuse me or leave me in the dark.' She bit out, her eyes glistening.

'Well, now I'm confused…' Her face scrunched as she grabbed his lapels roughly forcing him back against the bookcase. His back hit the shelves with a thud, her hands gripping his jacket against his chest. She pushed herself into him and he felt the stirrings of arousal as she held him there, her grip surprisingly strong. Her fingers dug forcibly into his chest.

Fire flashed in her eyes as she yelled in his face, 'Answer me!' He felt her breath on his face, 'Give me a direct answer to my simple question.' She yelled again.

'Elizabeth…' Dembe warned, Red had forgotten about the other man in the face of her body pressed against him.

'Not now, Dembe…' She bit out, the other man backing up allowing her this moment that was clearly coming. 'Answer me…' She growled, 'Did you or did you not steal Tony Mejia out of FBI custody.' Her brows were pulled together, her eyes shining back at him.

'You know that I did…' He told her calmly, watching her face change to utter disbelief.

'Because Garvey has your duffel bag?' She uttered incredulously, her voice breaking slightly. 'He owns you…' Her tone lowered into almost a whisper. 'You betrayed me… The entire Task Force… So that he wouldn't expose the truth?' It was then her voice broke fully, unshed tears shining back at him. His heart constricted as she continued to press her full weight against him. He knew this was coming and now he was unprepared in the light of her words.

'I betrayed no one, least of all you…' He tried to placate, 'I told you I was going to get that duffel bag. If Garvey is in your custody, that will be impossible. If Garvey goes on trial, that will be impossible.' Her face quivered, her chin and lip trembling slightly as she tried to control her emotions. He knew this look, he knew her tears were imminent. 'So, until I have that bag, I will do what I must to prevent that from happening. But I will get it, and then Garvey is going to die.' He emphatically told her, his tone firm.

'Is Tony Mejia dead? Did you kill him?' She asked, her tone softer as her eyes bored into him.

He reached up and took hold of her forearms, forcing her roughly back before letting her go, he frowned. 'You know the answer to that…' He walked passed her as she turned holding a breath.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?' She almost whined, 'You let me spend last night in your arms knowing what you'd done would ruin me… How?' He turned to face her while she held another level breath, her hands against her hips and her eyes closed.

'What the fuck is wrong with me…' She whimpered softly, 'That I thought, even for a moment that you would put me first. How can I believe anything you say?' She shook her head, holding back her tears before making her exit.

She was sat in the dark waiting, on her second glass of whisky. She hadn't spoken to him since the library. He hadn't been with Dembe at the airfield in Boston and had clearly been keeping tabs on her to know where they were. She was grateful he'd sent Dembe but him not going as well… He probably knew full well she didn't want to see him. She wondered if he would actually show up, would he pretend like nothing had happened? Would he expect her to be in a crumbled heap on the floor, drunk and crying ready to accept him back into her bed? Did he prefer her like that, soft and malleable. Well he was in for a shock if that was the case.

She hadn't been waiting long when she heard the key in the door, the handle turning and then his silhouette was in the doorway. She knew it was him, irritation licked up her spine. He stepped into the hallway, into the darkness, closing the door behind him.

'Go away' she growled out into the darkness when the door clicked shut, she watched him visibly start reaching for his weapon. She smiled in the darkness, clinking her glass as she finished its contents. She wanted boldness not drunkenness. She remembered knocking a lamp off sideboard in New York, jamming a pen into his neck and growling inches from his face. So many times she had thrown something in his direction. What happened to that fire she'd had once? She needed to summon that now.

'Elizabeth? Why are you in the dark?' He asked his tone level, his hand dropped from his weapon, taking a step towards her.

'I said. Go. Away.' She growled punctuating the words, rising to her feet. Her fingers still clenched against the glass. She heard him quietly cross the floor, flicking on a table lamp in the corner of the room. She blinked as she was suddenly thrust into low light.

She was making him nervous and he didn't easily get nervous. He hadn't know what state he would find her in before he arrived but he certainly wasn't expecting this. He took in her appearance, she was dressed in black leggings, accentuating every curve she had and a black tight fitting tank top, her hair was loosely tousled. She scowled at him, her hands clenched around a glass tumbler. He could see in her eyes she'd been drinking, they shone darkly back at him. She looked almost feral. He had seen her like this before, probably many times but there was something different this time. A shiver of arousal stirred in his belly and ran up his spine. He let out a breath, his mouth open.

'We need to talk…' He began slow and even like he was talking her down off a ledge, maybe he was.

'Leave' She bit back between clenched teeth, taking a step towards him. He stood still, making no move to leave. He wasn't sure what to say then but she filled the silence. 'I won't ask again.' She took another step, her bare feet light against the hard wood floor.

'Or what?' He asked taking his hat from his head and placing it down. He was warm and getting warmer the closer she got but he knew disrobing would make her more angry.

She made a guttural sound in her throat raising her hand to hurl the glass across the room. It hit the wall to his right over the table, a little too close for his liking as he felt the remnants of liquid splashing his face. 'Or I make you…' She ground out again. He ignored her shrugging off his coat, placing it over the back of chair beside him. Her glare turned darker.

'You're pretty sure of yourself aren't you?' She asked, taking another step, he ignored the inclination to take a step back. Her face was flushed, a fine sheen of sweat covered her brow.

'I'm not going anywhere until we talk…' He informed her levelly, she inched closer. Her movements almost predatory. Her fists clenching and unclenching.

'There's nothing to talk about, so you can leave.' She growled, her nostrils flaring as she stared him down.

'Fine, I'll talk and you can listen.' He knew that wasn't going to happen, she was too far gone and inching closer. He had to find a way to diffuse her rage and his growing arousal.

'No, I've heard enough. All you care about are your secrets, you've made that perfectly clear.' She bit out.

'I know you're hurt but I promise you we will get Garvey' She closed the gap between them in a rush shoving him backward against the wall, in a similar manner to earlier except she let go, not allowing their bodies to touch. She was inches from him, visibly shaking her breathing heavy.

'Like I haven't heard that before, you promise and just expect me to believe you, well no more…' She ground out, her jaw clenched. His face was impassive and purposely so even he didn't feel it. His impassivity seem to irritate her more. The fact that he wasn't rising to her anger, itched under her skin.

'Lizzy…Come on, we can talk about this rationally, let's have a drink.' His voice was low and gravelly and trying to be calming. He reached out, aiming to touch her face. She dodged stepping back, slapping his hand away from her.

'Don't Lizzy me…' She snarled, her arm coming up. He saw the swing coming, but he didn't react. Maybe if she got a good swing in, she'd calm down. He could take whatever she threw at him. Her fist connected with his cheekbone, forcing him back against the wall with a resounding crack.

She'd barely winced, barely even felt the connection with his face. She raised her arm again, her intention clear. Mid swing, he grasped her arm pulling her roughly against him. Before she had time to react, he held both arms in a vice grip. Her arms bent at the elbows, her forearms pressed between their bodies as he turned and forced her up against the wall, knocking the breath out of her. She gasped in a breath as his body slammed into hers.

'Enough' He growled, low and gravelly, his full weight against her. Her eyes flicked from the purple bruise gracing his cheekbone down to his lips. She swallowed thickly before her brain kicked into gear and she struggled in his grip. 'Stop.' He bit out again, her movements stilling, her face still flushed as she scowled back at him. 'I did it because…'

'I don't give a fuck why you did it!' She screamed inches from his face. She struggled again, her eyes flashing back at him. 'I don't give a fuck about your secrets or what's in the fucking bag!'

'Elizabeth…'

'No! I let you in, I let you comfort me, I let you hold me, I let you into my bed and you betrayed me…' She hurled back.

She refused to melt under his touch, her hard eyes boring into his. He pressed harder into her, his leg forcing its way between hers, grazing the warmth between her legs ever so slightly. She frowned at his leg placement but bit her lip to stifle a moan. He held her tighter as she squirmed, her body betraying her as her nipples hardened under his forearms. Her heart beating wildly, the pulse point in her neck visibly throbbing. Pressing his body into her arms, he freed one of his own. He reached up, brushing her dishevelled hair away from her face. She stilled under his fingers, a scowl still consuming her face as his fingers trailed a path across her face to her jaw. He took hold of her jaw, making her look up at him. She saw the want then, she saw his pupils dilate with need and her brain scrambled, almost blacking out completely. Her knees almost buckled and her belly flipped, sending tiny pulses of desire up her spine. Warm tingles spread down her thighs and between her legs. How had she missed this?

Shock was spreading out across her features as he gripped her chin. He made her hold his gaze, her pupils dilating under his touch. He saw his desire mirrored back at him, her mouth slightly agape. He had to let go, had to leave before his growing need was too obvious to hide but his eyes fell to her lips as she bit into the bottom one. Her breathing was heavy, her chest heaving pressing her breasts invitingly into him with each breath she took. He loosened his grip against her hands, allowing them free of his body weight but he didn't move, she turned her hands palms pressed into his chest. She seemed stunned, almost mesmerised, unable to move. He felt her legs give slightly. Was this all it took for him to make her listen? But he couldn't think, couldn't find the words to explain and a sorry seemed too hollow in that moment. He felt the warm wetness seep into his trouser leg and she blushed fiercely, clearly aware she was marking him in this way. He swallowed, summoning from the depths of his soul the will to separate from her. He moved his leg against her ever so slightly, making his intent clear. There could be no mistake now. He let go of her chin, pushing his hand against the wall to right himself. He swept another glance across her face, to her lips. His hand brushing against her soft hair, he moved to her bottom lip, grazing it with his thumb. He committed this to memory, her want, the need for him in her face. It was crushing but he stood straighter as she seemed to sag against the wall, the fight having gone out of her. He let her go, stepping backward. The absence of their combined warmth shocking both of them. He ground his jaw, his eye twitching but his gaze wouldn't leave her. She blinked back at him, her eyes glistening in the low light. He reached for his coat, swallowing down everything, everything he felt in that moment and walked toward the door, leaving her in a daze to sink down the wall.

A/N: SORRY! I have a plan and this wasn't in it yet but this is where it went. I toyed with changing the end but then didn't so... Now it's out there.