Sometime after her family, she must've fallen asleep because when she woke up it was dark outside and the shower was running and Slappy was nowhere to be found. She sat up, stretching her arms high above her head, and stared at the closed bathroom door, listening to the water running.

What now? Where would they go from here? What were they gonna do?

The water shut off and she sat there, waiting for the door to swing open and when it did, heat flooded her cheeks. Slappy, wearing his clothes from earlier, shower-wet hair hanging in his face now that it was free of product. He looked less like death, the scrapes and wounds of yesterday's fight still raw-looking and fresh, and he walked with a pronounced limp.

He spotted her almost immediately, his eyes widening a fraction when their eyes met, before he coughed, turning his face away from her. Was he embarrassed about something? When he faced her again, his expression was a mix of concern and seriousness. "How are you feeling? Are you alright?"

When he reached her, his mouth pressed thin as he sat close enough she could smell the cheap hotel shampoo he'd used and he cupped her jaw in one hand, his other braced on her leg. "You scared the shit out of me with your lightning show earlier. You're much stronger than I'd thought."

Her heart was pounding, the mate voice in the back of her mind purring at the physical contact and how close he was, her muscles clenched with tension. She was so sure he could hear the frantic tempo of her pulse, see it push against the thin skin of her throat just below his hand, and the idea made her cheeks burn even hotter.

"I'm fine," she managed, taking in a quiet pull of his scent against her better judgement and the effect was instantaneous, relaxing her tight muscles and calming the mate voice that was screaming about him touching and how she must've made him happy and that he wasn't going to leave her.

When did I get so pathetic? I'm not a damn dog, she thought dimly as he dropped his hand from her jaw and pulled back, high color flooding his face as though he'd realized what he'd done.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, pulling his hand off her leg and scooting back a little bit.

The space between them felt like the Grand Canyon, making her frown a little, trying to block out the mate voice that shrieked she was a bad mate, that she'd displeased him somehow, that he was going to run away from her just like everyone else. She closed her eyes against the sudden running commentary, feeling a headache already beginning to form in her sinus and hummed slightly.

"Amy?" His voice was a quiet, nervous whisper that made her slit her eyes open. "I'm not going to leave you, not now, not ever. I know this isn't what either of us wanted, either of us anticipated but I can't think of anyone else I would rather be stuck with."

She froze, holding her breath as she opened her eyes wider, the mate voice falling deathly silent. He continued to speak, eyes on his hands as though he couldn't meet her gaze.

"I never could get you out of my head, you know. Only kid to defy me, get the best of me, and I couldn't stand it. And then you found me again." He sighed heavily, the clenched line of his shoulders falling and his hands relaxing. "At first I didn't want your help because, well, why would you help me? But you did, not caring I didn't want it, because that was the right thing to do, even if I didn't deserve it. Some part of me didn't mind, wanted your help, even if I fought it tooth and nail."

She swallowed, exhaling quietly, a hand sliding across the rumpled bed sheets to clasp his hand, and his head jerked up, his wide eyes watching her for a moment as though he was expecting an explanation but when she didn't give one, he continued on.

"And then I saw how bad things were with your family and I hated seeing you sad. But the real kicker was when that damn succubus stabbed you and I had to watch—It was like everything stopped when you passed out. I didn't think, just reacted, my body moving before my brain processed it, and now you're stuck with me forever. I don't mind it. But you—you have—had your entire fucking life in front of you and I ruined it."

He didn't look at her after that, his shoulders jumping a little before he continued. "Because even if you never love me, even if you don't want me back, I'll be here for you. So I'll be okay, if you find someone else you want more than me, and if they make you happy, that's what I want. You, happy. With or without me. Your happiness is important to me." He sniffled, surprising her as she'd never seen him so…open.

She crawled closer, unable to help herself, and reached for his face, turned it towards her, watched the glimmer in his eyes that could've been tears. Instead of speaking, she closed the distance and pressed her mouth gingerly to his, a little moan escaping her when one hand lifted to her cheek and his other pressed the small of her back, pulling her into his lap.

He was so, so warm and solid against her, his skin silky-soft, his hair a damp mess between her fingers when she tangled them in his hair. Her heart was pounding in her chest, heat rushing into her face, her stomach flip-flopping as they kissed, adjusting the angle, breaking apart only to dive back in.

His hand found the edge of her t-shirt and slid beneath, touched her bare skin, and she shuddered, pressing herself closer until their chests touched flush. He broke the kiss, panting heavily, a little smile on his face.

"I think I know where I stand. How about you?" she whispered, feeling his thumb stroke slow circles against her back as he leaned up, pressed a kiss to her chin and then buried his face in the junction of her shoulder and throat.

"For however long you want me, I'll be here."