Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Written: 2009. Found: 2018- Licia

He drank her in deeply, holding her closer, sliding a hand down her side to slide beneath her thigh, tugging her closer until her leg was wrapped around his waist.

"We need to practice..."

"Later."

She shook her head, pulling away. "Tournament... three weeks..."

"We'll practice later, Fabala."

"But Yero-"

"Stop thinking. I can see the wheels in your head; they match mine. We need to get them both to stop otherwise we'll never be able to play. And you know it."

He pulled her closer, reaching up to slide a hand underneath her light jacket, slipping beneath her shirt to caress her skin. She pulled away, meeting his gaze. A moment passed, before she grabbed the bottom of his jacket, tugging it over his head. It landed on the ice beside them, and then she moved away, reaching down to remove her own jacket and toss it to join his. She then removed her t-shirt, tossing it away and leaving herself in only a sports bra. She returned, pulling his tank over his head, exposing his chest, and the diamonds she could see patterned on his shoulder.

Only she and his parents knew the meaning behind the small cluster of diamonds and what they truly stood for. Most assumed it was some sort of Vinkun right of passage- but such practices had been outlawed back in the nineteen-twenties.

He pulled her close, sliding his hands down her waist. Their lips met again, and after a moment, he scooped her up, laying her gently on the articles of clothing at their feet. Their skates quickly came undone and off, and they allowed themselves to give in to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for ten years...

"Make love to me."

"On the ice?"

She nodded. "It's more home to us than a bedroom-"

He kissed her then, tugging her close; hands slid over skin, teeth tugged at lips, desire bubbled and grew, boiling to a roar that soon overtook them. Neither did anything to stop it; though they knew it was wrong, that they should wait until the team for the Games was announced, they couldn't help themselves. They didn't want to help themselves. Not at that moment.

All my life, I've been dreaming of you...

And she knew it was true; her entire life had centered around this man, this partner of hers, and she'd never even realized it. He'd been such a constant in her young life, that she'd spent years taking advantage of him just being there, that he had no feelings for her, not like she had for him, that he never could. Clearly, she was wrong. His feelings for her ran just as deep as her feelings for him.

She called out for him, digging her nails into the smooth skin of his back as he pushed into her. He hissed as her nails dug deeper, leaving deep, red scratches across his tan skin. But if this was the reaction he got for bringing her to life, then so be it. He'd take her a thousand times the same way if he got the same reaction from her. This beautiful, marvelous reaction...

He pulled his jacket on, watching her silently tie her skates back up. "Fabala, don't look at me like that. Please."

She met his gaze, and it was evident the regret sparking in her dark eyes. "We both wanted it." She whispered, climbing to her feet. "We've wanted it for years. We just never let it get in the way until now." She then skated towards the exit of the ice, and he followed, catching her arm gently.

"Fabala," She turned back, waiting. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to get so out of control-"

"It's fine, Yero. Besides, look on the bright side, thanks to my father, I can't get pregnant, so we won't have to worry about that. Let's just focus on the tournament we have coming up, okay?" She pulled away, going to a bench and removing her skates.

He followed, kneeling down beside her. "Are you upset with me?"

She met his gaze. "No. I just..." She sighed, glancing down at her skates. "I just wish this had been my first time instead of-" She stopped, and Fiyero knew she was thinking of the hell she'd lived in before she'd come to the Vinkus. The hell her little sister was now locked in. The hell she was so desperate to never return to.

"Fabala, I'm so sorry." He wrapped her in his arms, and she allowed it, sniffling softly. He pressed a firm kiss to her head, pulling away to meet her gaze. "We'll think of something, Fabala. I won't let you go back to that Hellhole."

"I need those sponsors, Yero. I need that money so I can put some aside to help get my sister out. I can't leave her there. He'll do to her what he did to me. I was his favorite daughter once too." Tears glistened in her eyes, and he brushed them away. "I know what that entails."

He pulled her close. "We'll figure out something, Fabala. Whether its more sponsors or my tournaments or something, either way, we'll figure it out. Together. I promise."

Glinda looked up from her essay as the door opened and Elphaba slipped inside, making a beeline for her bed and tossing her duffel onto it. "How did... whatever you were doing go?"

"Don't lie to me. And don't pretend like you weren't watching us. We both knew you were there, we just didn't say anything."

Glinda paled. "I... I'm sorry, Elphaba..."

The girl stopped rummaging through her duffel, turning to the blonde. "Don't. I'm so sick of 'I'm sorry's' I could puke. That's all I've been hearing for the last ten years is 'I'm so sorry you've gone through that', 'I'm sorry you're home life isn't as good as it should be', 'I'm so sorry you've been a victim of sexual and physical abuse, but there's nothing we can really do for you other than send you back to your abuser'-" She stopped, realizing she'd said too much.

"Sexual abuse? Elphie, what's going on?"

The sudden, unintended nickname sent Elphaba's back rail straight, and she zipped up her duffel, throwing it over her shoulder. "I have a paper to finish, I'll be in the library." And without a glance back, she dashed out of the dorm.

"But the library's... closed."