Hoorays for chapter 3:) enjoy. or don't, that's cool too ;)
That all-too familiar look was planted on Sara's face.
The look that said: "Tell me the truth".
He couldn't bottle it in anymore, and he couldn't keep it from her any longer. If she wanted him to spill his heart, so be it.
He didn't care at this point what her reaction would be, and he wouldn't be placing her in any danger by his confession.
She was already in enough as it was.
If anything, maybe his words would convince her to come with him.
"Yes, I meant it, Sara. There have been a lot of things I've said to you that I've meant, if you can believe it…"
Sara looked down, but seemed to cock her head to one side slightly as he spoke, as if to hear him better.
He wondered if he was whispering.
"When I asked you to wait for me, when I told you how I went from needing to be in your office to wanting to, all of it. I meant it.
I don't expect you to suddenly forgive me, jump into my arms and pretend I never hurt you. All I ask, Sara, all I want, is for you to believe me."
Amidst his chatter Sara's head jerked up to stare intently at him.
They sat silent now, and Michael could feel his heartbeat quickening. His breath was shallow with anticipation.
He was desperate to hear her answer, whether he would like it or not.
And then, Sara did something he hadn't expected, and hadn't prepared for.
She began to cry.
Quietly, and subtly, all of the pent up frustration and emotional distress that must have been festering inside her overflowed in the form of tears.
Her head ducked low, and she unexpectedly leaned forward into his chest.
Michael felt his heart tighten. He nearly wanted to share in her expression of pain, to cry with her, for he had enough emotions trapped within him as well.
But he knew she needed strength. If nothing else, Sara need him to be calm, reassuring, and comforting.
Pain shot through him at realizing that most of her tears were caused by his actions.
His arms wrapped tightly around her back, and he literally began making small "shhh" noises as she gripped his shirt and wept.
After several minutes of this, he finally felt her shaking body slow down.
His hand again reached for her face, and red, glistening eyes met his. She didn't attempt to stop him as he began wiping away the moisture on her cheeks, catching every stray tear that was left in the aftermath.
Then, all fell silent.
Michael inhaled deeply, taking in her light perfume, letting it soak in, reminding him that he was currently locked in an embrace with the woman he now knew he loved.
He opened his mouth, clearly forming the beginning statement of "I'm sorry", but was cut off when a single finger pressed to his lips.
Sara shook her head, and what looked to be a sad smile flashed onto her features.
Her voice was choked and quiet, but he heard her words clearer than anything that had been yelled at him in his past.
"I believe you, Michael. You would have never called me if you didn't care. And…I guess…I wouldn't be here if…if I didn't."
For the first time since she arrived, Sara didn't try to break eye contact with him. Michael sighed audibly, relief and a strange sense of warmth overcoming him.
Everything they had been through since they met, everything Michael had come to feel for this woman since he first stepped foot in that infirmary suddenly came to a boil.
The stillness in the room seemed to suffocate him. The silence between them only succeeded in increasing a desperate itch that raced from his heart to his gut.
His hands twitched when he saw Sara look briefly at his mouth…just as she'd done during the riot….
She wasn't going to move, and he knew it.
So he did it for her.
Their breaths caught simultaneously when his lips collided with hers. A groan rumbled in his throat when her tongue slipped over his teeth before meeting his own, and Michael suddenly felt much hotter than he had earlier.
He hadn't planned on this to occur when he'd asked her to meet him in a motel room. If he wasn't so distracted, he would have found it cliché.
But cliché or not, Michael quickly found himself liking where this was going.
Sara's somber attitude changed as soon as the kiss began.
Any tears that were to fall dissipated, and her eyes had closed tight.
Michael allowed everything to fade from his mind in that instant: the breakout, the conspiracy, even his brother was lost in his consciousness as he felt hands creep up his chest.
A small groan escaped him when her fingers met the bare skin just above his shirt line, running delicately around to the back of his neck to pull him closer to her mouth.
Sara was using Michael as comfort, in some sense. He knew this.
But he also knew that his feelings were being returned, and if she needed to seek solace in him as well, he had no problem with letting her do so.
Michael was suddenly aware that they had paused in their exploration. Sara had opened her eyes to look into his, and the still damp orbs told him what he was about to ask.
She wanted him.
She needed him.
And he would let her have him.