Months passed, months full of pained silences and frustration. Months of loneliness as he avoided her. Months of excuses and awkward moments and small moments that once would have been forgotten but were now tinged with sorrow. Months of working together-but just that, working. They pushed through, performed their duties, got along. Months of longing.

Months of every interaction, slight, and letdown building like there was a string between them held too taught and threatening to snap.

Now, tonight, all she felt was rage.

A routine meeting, a recommendation that they travel to Dunlath-a year ago this would have been welcome. Now, Numair's suggestion was that she could travel with the next rider's group headed that way so that he could focus on his work in the city. Now, he didn't meet her eye when he said it. Now, instead of lingering after the meeting and suggesting they get dinner he left before she had the chance to so much as capture his gaze.

She followed him.

Her anger rose as she stalked through the halls, all but muttering to herself. This had been his choice. He walked away and she had let him, thinking that if they were only ever to be friends she could accept that. She had let him walk off that balcony, never thinking he would try to walk out of her life.

She pushed open his study door, not pausing to knock, and he stood, knocking over a book in his haste.

"You-"

"Daine, what are you doing?" He spoke over her, and over the foul name she called him though from his expression he had heard it clearly enough.

"What does it look like?" she was incredulous. He sighed and walked around his desk, leaning back against it and folding his arms across his chest.

"If this is about Dunlath-" He held his hand up when she scoffed, and she bit her tongue. "If this is about Dunlath you had to have known that someday I wouldn't always be able to accompany you. I do have other responsibilities."

"I'm a responsibility?" The word dripped from her mouth like poison. He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, of course not. That's not what I meant, but I'm not your teacher anymore, Daine." He met her eyes for the first time in what felt like months.

"So we're nothing to each other." She looked back with a defiant shrug. He flinched almost as if she had struck him, the hurt in his eyes unmistakable as they fell from hers once more.

"Of course not. We're-" he faltered, hands moving to fidget on the edge of his desk.

"What are we?" She stepped closer. He swallowed, not looking up. "What are we, Numair?" She stepped closer again.

"We're friends," he stuttered, the words escaping like a choke as he gestured angrily.

"Really?" she motioned between them. "This is friends?"

"What else would it be?" His voice was rising to meet hers now. He met her gaze and froze, the implication of his own words sinking in. The implication of whether they were more, or less, or something altogether different weighing heavy in the room. He swallowed, steadying himself. "We're friends, Daine. I will always be your friend."

"Bullshit." They were both taken aback, and she saw him clench his jaw.

"Excuse me?" He sounded calm, but she knew him enough to know how angry he was.

"Unless avoiding me unless it's absolutely necessary to grace me with your presence is being my friend you haven't my friend in months."

He flexed his jaw, eyes piercing. "I need you to leave." He said, crossing his arms again. She knew that stance. She may normally be the stubborn one but he could match her blow for blow when it came down to it. And it would.

"No."

"I'm not asking."

"Neither am I." She stepped closer again, so there was less than an arms length between them.

"Daine." It was a warning. "I can't do this."

"Do what?" She shook her head, trying to get a read on him.

"This," he exhaled, running a hand through his hair and stepped around her. "Why are you making this so hard? I-"

"I'm making it hard?" She laughed and knew it was a cruel sound. "You're the one who shut me out."

"I just can't do this right now," he stalked towards the door.

"Do what? Talk to me? Look at me? Be within fifty feet of me?" Her eyes burned but she refused to cry.

He turned on his heel to face her. "Again, why are you making this so hard?" I came as a plea.

"Are you kidding me?" She was yelling in earnest now. "I've done nothing but let you do what you want, when you want. I'm just trying to keep up."

"Don't play the martyr, Daine. It's not becoming."

"It's a good thing I don't need to worry about what you do and don't think is attractive on me." It was a low blow and he swore so vividly she was almost impressed.

"Really, Daine?"

She sputtered, so angry that coherent thought was becoming more difficult with each passing moment. She took a breath, trying to collect herself. "Look, I don't know what happened last-" she drew a breath, unable to look at him and think of what had happened between them at the same time. "I don't know if you were lonely, or confused, or just trying to entertain what you thought I wanted," she sighed, biting back tears. "I don't know what exactly happened, but that's fine. That's why I let it be, but I thought after some time-"she shook her head. "You never came back."

"I'm right here, Daine." He sounded bitter, and she looked at him only to feel her anger rise once more.

"No you're not." When he didn't respond she pushed on. "After you ki-"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"You don't want to talk about anything," she spat. There was a pause and he shrugged.

"You're probably right about that."

She flinched, the words stinging. "So that's it?" She shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her.

"What do you mean? What's it?"

"We don't talk anymore? We don't see each other unless it's to work together? We're just done?"

He seemed taken aback. "What? That's not-"

"Then what? That's all you've wanted to do for months, and you won't talk to me now."

"That's not what I meant. I just need," he faltered, flailing for words that would not come. She almost had pity for him, seeing what could only be desperation in his eyes-almost.

"What? What do you need? You've had months, Numair, so it can't be time. I'm right here and willing so it can't be to clear the air." Her voice was rising again.

He ran his hands through his hair, pulling at it. "Gods damn it, Daine, I don't know. Why do you always have to push everything?"

"Because if I didn't where the hell would you ever go?" She knew the words weren't true, but they were crafted to burn and they did their job.

"I didn't invite you here. You stormed in. You refused to leave and now you are unhappy with what I have to offer. This is not on me." He stalked closer, nostrils flaring. She stood straighter to meet him.

"Don't play the Martyr, Numair. It's not becoming." She said quietly, taking pleasure when he flinched. It was brief, however, and he didn't back down.

"Get out."

She stood her ground. He made a sound low in his throat and stalked away, towards the door.

"You will leave by choice, or I will make you leave."

"Why is it so hard for you to just talk to me?" She asked, still firmly planted where she stood. He stopped, leaned forward to rest against the door.

"Talking to you isn't what's hard, Daine." He said it quietly enough that she had to strain to hear him.

"Then tell me what is."

"Daine." He sounded tired, defeated.

"Tell me." If at any point it had been a request, now it sounded like a threat. He didn't move, back still to her and breathing heavy. She pushed herself away from the desk with a thud, swearing. "What the hell is so hard for you? What-"

"Loving you!" He wheeled back to her. His eyes were overbright and his jaw clenched so tightly that she could see the veins in his neck. "What do you think, Daine? Don't be naive."

She felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. She shook her head, struggling to hold on to a thought much less form words. "You were the one who walked away-" her voice was thick, anger and sorrow overwhelming her.

"I'm fourteen years older than you, Daine. Do you know what people will say?"

She looked at him, really taking him in. He was thinner than usual, and there were bags under his eyes-that always happened when he wasn't sleeping enough. His fists were clenched so that his knuckles were white with the pressure, his entire body trembling. This was not a man who had been enjoying life. The thought softened her-until another thought intruded. "I do." She nodded, digging her nails into the palms of her hands. "The different is that I care more about you than I do about what they say."

If her previous remarks had stung him, that one hurt. "You know I care more about you than I do myself."

"Do you?" She shrugged, gesturing between them and at whatever it was they had become. "You have a funny way of showing it."

"Don't be cruel." He shook his head. "If I had-"

"I don't care." She cut him off. He looked at her before moving around her once more to settle on the edge of the desk again.

"I was trying to say, If I-"

"I don't care." She grit her teeth, seeing red.

"You wanted to talk, so now I'm talking." He yelled, losing his temper. "You don't understand the implications of us being together. If-"

"I don't care, Numair. There is nothing you can say to explain what you've done that doesn't come down to you being a dolt."

"Wanting to protect you is doltish, is it? Wanting you to have more out of life than I can offer?"

"Yes!" They were yelling in earnest now, neither one willing to give an inch. "You don't get to make these decisions on your own!"

"Yes, I do! It's not up for debate!"

"Of course it is! Look at what's happened!"

"Stop being childish-"

"Childish? I'm being childish?" She closed the distance between them, seething. "You can't even talk about what you're feeling."

"What am I doing now, then?" He gripped the edge of the desk, breathing hard.

"Making excuses."

"Reasons aren't excuses."

"Yours are. Not once have you talked about what you want, or what I want for that matter."

"Life isn't always about what you want. You should know that as well as anything."

"Do you even care, then? Or are you just going to spend your life holed up with your books so you don't have to think about it?"

"You think I don't think about it? Mithros." He looked up towards the heavens at his exclamation, exasperated.

"I wouldn't really know what you think about," she hissed. "Do you even care?"

"Do I even care what?"

"What I want."

"Of course, but-"

"Then ask."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"Ask me what I want, Numair."

"Daine-"

"Ask me what I want."

"What do you want?" He yelled, but his follow up was drowned out because somewhere along the line they had drew closer and now her lips were on his. If their kiss on the balcony all those months ago was wanting, this was possession.

He broke away and she followed, taking the lead and pressing closer so that one leg slid between his and she straddled his thigh. His hand gripped the back of her head, clutching her curls as he kissed her back with bruising pressure. She drew back long enough to draw a gasping breath before returning to him, running her hands over his chest and her tongue against his. He moaned when she pressed her thigh against his groin and rolled his hips so that his erection pushed into her leg.

Her hand travelled down his stomach, pulling his shirt from his breeches and running her hand across any bare skin she could reach. He gasped and she took advantage of the opportunity, ducking her head to lick his neck and nibble on his ear as her hand pulled at the ties of his breeches. She grazed his earlobe with her teeth and writhed against him-seeking any friction she could. He shuddered and gripped her hips, running his hands down to grip her by the back of her thighs.

He pulled back, just far enough to claim her mouth again, and lifted her suddenly, turning them so that she sat on the desk with him between her legs. He broke away and ran his tongue down her neck, gripping her hips tightly in response to her moan. His hand had found its way under her shirt and breastband, where it stroked her breast and circled her nipple in a way that made her head swim

She unclasped her belt, not a thought in head revolving around anything but having more of him, and pushed her breeches down over her hips. He made a sound low in his throat and lifted her, tugging at her breeches to help her discard them along with her loincloth. Together, they pushed them down her legs and his gaze, dark and wanting, raked over her thighs and what lay between as he licked his lips.

Her own breeches had barely hit the floor when she was working on his again. Making short work of what remained of his laces, she tugged at the garment just enough to allow her the access she craved. He gasped when she grasped him, and shuddered when she stroked while pulling him from his breeches.

He kissed her again, one hand clutching her curls and the other on her waist. She spread her legs and moved forward until she was perched on the very edge of the desk and could feel his head against her. He paused, and pulled back, but she pressed her hips forward and used her hand to guide him. He groaned, leaning his forehead against her own as he entered her. Any restraint he had meant to show was eradicated when he felt how wet and ready she was. She groaned at the feel of him fully sheathed within her. She was always ready when he was around. He stopped when he was fully inside her, but she hooked her legs around his waist and rolled her hips; they had already lost so much time and it felt like there wasn't any more to waste.

He matched her pace, thrusting into her with abandon. She gasped, struggling to catch her breath, and leaned back on the desk. Numair shoved her shirt and breastband up, exposing her and running his hands over her as they moved together. She met each of his thrusts, craving more even as he fully possessed her. He leaned over her, swirling his tongue around her nipple while tweaking the other with his free hand. Daine clutched his back, digging her nails into his shoulders, and raked her teeth against his neck. He shuddered, groaning, and she felt his movement slow as he pulled back to claim her lips.

She released a frustrated groan, pushing her hips back into his to resume their pace.

"Wait," he gasped, clutching her hips to hold her still. She could have cried when he pulled out but he nibbled her ear, grazing the sensitive spot on her neck behind it with his teeth. "Turn around."

The command surprised her, but she complied as shivers of anticipation ran down her spine. He tugged at the hem of her shirt and she raised her arms, allowing him to remove what was left of her clothing. She felt him remove his own shirt, and leaned forward so that her palms rested on the desk.

Hands on her hips, she felt him between her legs-hard and seeking. Tilting her hips and using a hand to help guide him she let out a sigh of relief as he pushed into her once more. They found their rhythm quickly, Daine pushing back against him to urge him to be faster, harder, more.

His hands ran down her body, over her breast and stomach, and pulled her upright against him. She gasped when he found his way between her legs and began to stroke her. Her head fell back against his shoulder where she could feel how fast and erratic his breathing had become.

Pressure built surprisingly fast. She wasn't sure how he was holding them both up when she wasn't sure if she could even hold herself up if he released her. She turned her head and he covered her lips with his own. His breath was hot as it mingled her hers, and she felt his thrusts become more erratic though his strokes remained steady and determined.

He moaned against her lips, a breathy desperate sound, and it was enough. The pressure that had been coiling released and she shuddered and cried out against his lips. He gripped her tighter, groaning as he reached his own release.

They stood, still intertwined and clinging to one another, as they caught their breath. Numair brought his arms around her in an embrace, and released a gasping breath.

"I thought you wanted to talk."