Waking with a smile on her face was something Payson Keeler hadn't done in a while. Snuggled into the duet, wrapped into the comfort of her bed and the warm sleep of dreams, she closed her eyes and remembered last night. In the slow burning sun of the morning, it seemed impossible, but the memory of Sasha's gentle caress on her lips and his soft, sweet smell in her mouth affirmed her doubts.

Through the still confused veil of sleep came a persistent beeping coming from the side of her bed. Opening a bleary eye, Payson stretched her hand reluctantly to the carpet, scrabbling to find her phone which was nestling amongst the array of tights and clothes, thrown off last night as she returned, late and exhausted, ready to fall into the spell of dreams. Holding the offensive noise-maker up to her face, her eyes suddenly snapped open.

It was Sasha.

Scrambling up so that she was upright against the headboard of her bed, Payson hastily clicked a button and held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she croaked, her voice obviously portraying the fact she had just woken up.

There seemed to be a short chuckle on the other side of the line.

"Payson, why are you not at the gym?"

Frowning, Payson leaned over and grabbed her alarm clock, her sleepy gestures also dislodging most of the other things on her bedside table. Peering at the red figures, she registered dimly that it was only 8 am.

"It's a Sunday," she answered, dazed by the early morning.

"I don't remember excluding Sundays on your training programme," continued Sasha.

She gave a disbelieving sigh.

"You, you want me to come in, now?" she groaned, attempting to throw off the duvet with her feet.

"The Rock. Now," demanded Sasha with what Payson tried to discern as another chuckle, ringing off.

Muttering to herself, she slumped out of bed, quickly scraping her long blonde hair into a loose bun and pulling on the first leotard that came to hand. Then she took it off, choosing another, much nicer and flattering one from the back of her wardrobe. Despite her tiredness and the fact that this was supposed to be a day off, she grinned as she quickly packed her gym bag, slipping her sports jacket and trousers over her outfit. She even began to hum happily as she hastily grabbed a rapid breakfast, scrawling a note to her mum explaining where she was going, and leaving her slumbering household to go down to the nearest bus stop and catch it to The Rock.

The building looked as deserted and sleeping as her own house, as Payson walked up the silent stairs and through the usually vibrant entrance hall. She didn't bother putting her stuff in her locker, or going to the changing room, she simply slipped off her jacket and trousers, walking into the main gym.

Unlike usual, when he mostly stayed in his office, Sasha was waiting on the main mat area in the middle of the floor, sitting on a bench he had pulled up. He looked up as she arrived, prompting an instant skirmish in her stomach and a secret smile to blush on her face.

"Hey."

Sasha greeted her with a smile, holding up a brown bag and two cups of coffee, "Breakfast?"

Payson narrowed her eyes as she moved forward, letting her bag drop off her shoulder and fall to the floor.

"Actually I already ate," she explained, coming towards him, "and I thought we were here to train, not pig-out."

"Although, I don't really mind" she added hastily, seeing his expression drop immediately.

Sasha passed her a cup, motioning for her to come and sit down. As a coach he would never have thought to bring her these things, but as she joined him, taking the cup and feeling the warmth of coffee spread through her hands, he was glad his human side had gotten the better of him for once.

"I guessed as to what you liked," he said, watching her drink and showing her the bag of bagels, "I didn't really know-"

"It's perfect," Payson replied, looking up.

The coffee was too bitter, a little too strong, but he could learn that. There was everything to learn with time. She smiled despite herself.

"What?" he murmured, mirroring her smile, hers lighting up his own face.

Payson shook her head, drawing the cup closer to her lips.

"Nothing."

Sasha straightened up, moving away from the bench. He turned back and held out his hand.

"Come on," he said, as she followed him with her avid gaze.

Putting her coffee cup to the side, Payson slowly moved beside him, not knowing what to do. She watched his movements, wandering if he had spent all night reliving their kiss too. He put his hands on her waist and she looked down abruptly, at his strong fingers encircling her body.

"I umm, think we should work on your balance," he started, not looking into her eyes.

"Oh. OK."

"Just stretch your legs."

Confused, she extended her right leg behind her, as fully as she could, relaxing into his support so that she could push her limits. Payson couldn't concentrate; all that was whirring in her mind was questions about last night.

"Good," Sasha said, as she drew her legs together again. He turned his eyes to hers. Her breath caught in her throat. She leant in and kissed him, her hands passing instinctively to the back of his head.

"Payson!"

He abruptly moved backwards, breaking away from her. She couldn't understand the look he gave her, it was full of confusion and, it seemed, pain.

"I thought," she stammered, "I thought, last night, we…."

Nothing was coming out of her brain, reeling blank and expressionless images.

Sasha seemed to gulp.

"I know," he hesitated, coming closer into her again, "but-"

He broke off. It was killing him, what he had to do. His numb brain was screaming out, his veins twisting as he pretended to shut away his heart.

"Payson, I'm your coach," he whispered.

She didn't know what to say, every happy tingle in her body coming crashing down as she tried to process what he was saying.

"I think it would be wrong," Sasha continued, his voice tailing off as there was no inch of his body which actually meant what he was saying.

She could see in his eyes that the words were empty, blank and untrue. But suddenly their situation hit her, the world suddenly becoming stark and false, her heart struggled to beat in the flood of reality.

There was a prickling in her eyes as she struggled to retain the tears which were welling up. Payson Keeler did not cry, and as she stood there, helpless and prey to society and its damning views, Sasha Belov saw the scared young girl against the world. He yearned to enfold her into is arms, cry into her shoulder that it could be alright, that together was all that mattered. But he couldn't. After their kiss, returning to his trailer at The Rock, he had bee riding on the ecstasy of emotion, love fuelling his breath and life. But through the night, and waking to a bleak morning once gain alone, reality dawned, crushing the small sprigs of happiness and hope Payson had bred within him. His soul felt as if he was repressing it, cutting it out of his body as he watched her lost eyes echo his own emotions.

"How can feeling like this be so wrong," he watched her struggle to whisper, her voice breaking as she met his gaze.

There were no words for either of them. They simply looked into each other's eyes, wishing the same thing. Sasha drew his breath, as if to say something, then quickly stopped, and turned away.

"What?" Payson cried quickly, not seeing his face ducking away and sniffing.

She thought he was going to say three words, three small words that would have broken both their hearts. As Sasha turned back, she walked slowly up towards him, taking his hand.

Amidst everything, the confusion, the pain, a world that was out to destroy them, Payson knew one thing. Sasha was the only thing that kept her life revolving. He was worth facing anything, anyone. She tried to kiss him again, but he moved his index finger to her lips. She could taste the sweat, the salty pain and fear on her lips, uniting them.

"I'm sorry Payson," he murmured, turning and walking away.

"Sasha."

This time it was her calling out his name, seeing his hands come to his head in desperation as he was swallowed by the shadows of the gym. The door clicked gently behind him.

Payson stood, alone in the middle of The Rock. Tears stained her face as she looked at the bench and the abandoned coffee. Passing her hand over their cups, she felt the cold of their forgotten emotions lying, swirled but trapped in the containers of their world.

There were a hundred things that Payson Keeler didn't know. There were a thousand questions she would have liked answered. But there was one thing she was sure of, and as she left the gym, catching the bus not in the direction of her house, but of somewhere else, she knew that she would fight for it.

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