Author's Note: Thank you to those of you who have left reviews for me! (Angelous-Cantus, SupportSeverusSnape, Libertad23, brainfear, Belmont-Bellamy, TheShadowCat, Storm, kriitikko, Young Chika, and Naphtali Phoenix). Apparently 130 people at least have read to my third chapter, and I have 15 total reviews for the whole story… 'fess up! Anyways, another slow (and short) chapter and now I realize I should pick up the pace. Please read and review!

Chapter 4

V had tried to convince Evey that he would not need her assistance at night, vehemently even, but she had clearly taken charge of the circumstances and with her blankets and pillows situated herself next to the couch on the floor leaving an exasperated V to fume on the neighboring furniture. Despite that, although the gentleman in him wouldn't admit it, he loved her for it. Which was a subject that they had not yet broached, leaving their energies to making him stable and healthy again. It was only a matter of time before it was brought up since his recovery was quite rapid. Even as tentatively as he thought about it, he warmed at the remembrance of her declaration of love that had come out in the tumble of words to convince him to allow her to take care of his wounds.

He had watched her carefully through the slits of his mask, looking for a reaction to his burned body. It would be a lie to say she did not notice the scars covering his whole body, but her flinches had seemed only to do with the new bullet wounds and her cleaning them. The cynical part of his mind, which is fairly loud, told him that those wounds were the focus that if it were a different situation she would not touch him, not look at the horrid mass of livid scars he called a body, it was only obligation. But a small timid corner of his mind entertained the thought of her not caring about all of that, that she could see past it all to his core, that which was inside the shell that made him V.

V watched her now below him at his side as she turned on the floor, shuffling the blankets and turned her face towards him in her sleep. He wanted to stroke the bristle of hair that peeped out from under the covers, so easily would his arm slide down from his side to her and his fingers to caress the delicate hairs upon her round head. He would want to feel it, currently his hands were gloved, seemingly pointless now that his dear Evey had seen most of his body and his hands once before unfazed. He also wore a loose button down pajama shirt and drawstring pants for modesty's sake. The look of triumph on her face when she discovered them had amused him. He knew she probably questioned if he actually slept and would even change from his daytime attire.

Evey shifted again in her sleep, her covers moved down to her collar bone, then stilled. The temptation to touch her became greater. Her pale, delicate neck was exposed now. V flexed and clutched his large hand. Oh the unknowing temptress! And here he was unable to do much because of his wounds… that and his uncertainty in his standing with her. He stared up at the ceiling. They had professed their love to each other, he to her when he thought he was to die in her arms and she to him in a burst to care for him. Things had changed for him though. He did love her, does love her, but he said it when he was certain he would meet his maker and had not planned on surviving. Now he had to live with the consequences of surviving and he was afraid, he had no plan, no goal to work toward as he had the past twenty some odd years for the fall of Parliament and the corrupt officials who made him what he was.

The stone ceiling remained silent and cold.

V turned his head to look at the beauty down on the floor and caught his breath when he realized that Evey was awake and staring at him with those soft brown eyes. Her mouth was gently curved up as she spoke quietly, "Hi there."

"Hello," he answered, at a loss for further words.

Evey lifted her head and looked around the room and spotted the clock, "It's still much too early to be up," she commented with a groan. She dropped her head back down onto her pillow. V made a noise from the back of his throat that could only be in agreement. His senses went on high alert when he saw her move her hand and arm up the couch and tracked the movement with his eyes. Her small hand came to rest delicately, hesitantly, upon his own gloved hand. Her fingers smoothed down his and curled around them. V didn't move for fear that she would remove her hand and looked over at her. Evey was staring intently at their hands, a slight blush across her thin face as she avoided meeting his eyes.

After assessing the situation for a moment V carefully turned his hand palm up to take Evey's hand into his own, committing himself to this sweet moment at least. He cautiously hoped for more in the near future and was developing his next life's mission already hoping against hope that Evey will allow him to fulfill this.

Evey felt warm from his and her advances. Holding hands was definitely a step and she felt infinitely happy that he allowed her this. She hoped to advance their relationship further as trust was built. That this man who was formerly an idea would allow it at all.