Chapter Two: Day aftermutual ILY second night of reunion.

Lies are louder, truths last longer – four parts.

Part one: Day after their mutual ILY***.

The trap of our lust is inevitable. I knew that even as he told me to stay and I told him that this can't happen again. I've known that every time I've taken a step back from him or him from me. This is inevitable, the long sighs drawn from a drag of hips. There is nothing that can stop this, just as there is nothing to fight the deep bone-melting, cell-throbbing surrender he draws from me. But this is all there is, lust. I cannot allow anything else; there will never be anything more because it is then that He will punish me, as He did before. So I will allow myself to be trapped in Christian's flat, for my mouth to seek the hunger in his, and I will continue in my redemption for these moments, I will pray for the strength to forget them. I will force anything deeper away.

I will order him not to fall for me.

"…you can't say that." I whisper into the press of his skin.

"It's the truth Sy," he whispers. My sweat tinged fringe is brushed from my eyes, in the haze of relaxing muscles and slowing hearts his gaze captures mine.

"I love you-"

"Don't." From somewhere inside the eclipse of passion I find the strength to push him away. "Please, don't."

His strong arms loosen their hold around me, impulsively my muscles grip against him, begging for a lasting embrace.

"And if I already do?" He asks, fighting against my fraying control. His emerald world seeks the truth within me.

He fails; he could not be permitted as far inside my world as I thought.

"OK," he lifts the duvet, unsettling our perfect world.

He climbs out of bed for the search of clothes discarded in lust.

He runs his hand across his mouth removing our kiss, he's hurt. "I gotta go to work, let yourself out yeah?"

I trap his departure in my gaze, needing to see every step he takes to leave me, the pain is my redemption.

At the door he turns back to me.

"Roxy wants to go out tonight, I know we said we'd meet but-"

I know the truth his question masks, the words he won't say. I know the lie my answer creates.

"You should go."

His gaze drops to the floor, "sure?"

My lips fail to create an answer, instead it's an utterance that breaks us. His eyes drop as he turns away.

"Christian?"

"Yeah?" The depth of his smile lights up the room as he faces me again. His eyes are open and sincere - telling me clearly that he would give me a million chances to break his heart.

I must not allow him to.

"…Have a good time."

He closes the door on us and the pain echoes against the judgment of his silent flat. It is in this one place that he has explored every inch of me in every different way. It is alone in this room that I can hear the truth - a silent plea that failed my lips.

Don't leave me.

Part Two:

He grabs my hand and there is nothing I can do but step into his embrace. His explorative lips grab mine and he overtakes all that I am. The lustful sight, the darkened taste, the libidinous sound and the cell-burning feel, of him jams my senses; and suddenly there is only us at this busy New Year's Eve party.

It is only within his kiss that I realise that I have been starved. It is only within his kiss that I can feel the fracture of my heart. It is only within his kiss that I know of reality.

I have been lost since the moment he left me: tears in his eyes as that cab ripped us apart. Amira happily by my side saying how it's so sad that he just can't seem to find a nice man, and didn't I think it was a shame that he broke up with James, and didn't I think he seemed lonely.

All I knew was he was never that lonely before me.

A part of me left then, and it only returns now in the crash of his lips and the burn of his stubble. And all I want to do is scream that he shouldn't have fallen for me, that I always told him this would be harder if it was anything but the touch of bodies.

Then his hands map down my back and all I can think to do is whimper a plea for closeness. His body, as always intuned to mine, senses my wish and he steps closer - turning us around to allow a body press against the sink. The tightness between us calms the longing, I have missed him for an eternity. His mouth threatens to part from mine but I pull him closer with a hand on his shoulders, scared of the new world without him; for finally, in his touch, I can feel my beating heart and my lungs fill with oxygen.

He ends our kiss and I am within the guilt of conscience one more time.

"Why did you have to come back?" Are the words I hear my lips say.

They are the first words that are permitted between us in weeks. They cover the truth - the real question, that sincere plea.

"Why did you have to leave?"

Part Three

My forehead tingles the press of his kiss. My heart stings as it rips from his. His promise lingers.

Everything tells me that he is letting me go, that he is giving up the fight, surrendering me to my family as I have asked of him so many times. My shoeless feet and gold-threaded outfit prove that I have given him no choice.

Still, a muted plea tempts the tip of my tongue.

He is strong, managing a smile through the break of his tears. He lifts his suitcase and walks away, defeated. That plea screams to be heard, to be allowed audience in the unbearable silence of his departure.

My new wife stands behind me, happiness glittering in her tone as she asks me casually who the person is that leaves with my heart. In a second I will act in the way that I have promised, in the only way I can to save everyone. I won't look back for fear that the tears inside my soul will fall. In a second I will take my family's happy laughter to replace the sound of his heart breaking, and the screaming of a plea that stayed silent.

Don't leave me.

Part Four: Post sofa fight.

His kiss is fierce - it is only now, within anger, that I have sought it and he responds in kind. He burns my body with the force of our passion as he leaves me fallen against the sofa but safe within his arms.

His taste reverberates through me and I crave all he is. He feels my body's weakness and plays, his hips driving insanity.

His lips part from mine to allow my moan loud within this room.

His eyes are cut emeralds, harder and sharper than I've ever seen. His intense gaze wipes my body. His posture is tense as he refuses to let me go. The back of his hand swipes voltage down my arm.

His hold is on my wedding ring when his eyes drop closed. With a deep breath he pulls me up and settles me down, allowing space to form between our bodies once more.

Weakened by his strength, my legs tremble with my full weight. Weakened by his touch my hand stops his departure. Weakened by his kiss my lips whimper his name, "Christian…"

"I would stay Sy; if you could let yourself want me….I wouldn't ever go anywhere if you wanted me to stay." His voice is dejected. His eyes question my hand's hold around his.

"Do you?" The question comes from a place of darkness - he asks it like we have been broken.

His eyes flick from my touch to my gaze.

As his eyes test my world a smile flickers and sparks against his lips. He takes my breath away in the slow spread of that smile that reaches his eyes - he's found us again.

"You do," he breathes as he turns around to face me.

With memories of our bodies perfectly in tune, it is with sinuous, seamless movements that we move. I am left sat against his sofa, my legs apart for his presence between my thighs.

"You want me," his voice is triumphant as he speaks the truth I only ever failed to hide.

He moves ever closer toward me, sharing my air as my lungs burn breathless.

"Don't you?" His voice is aflame.

He intoxicates me and waits for my answer.

"Christian…" My voice comes out weaker than I knew possible, "…please".

"Please what?" He cocks his head, knowing what I need, now ready to tease.

"Please don't leave me."

"OK."

Languidly he takes my hand in his. As if he is treasuring me his eyes map slowly over my skin. He places my touch against his hip before doing the same with the other. His hands rest on my leather jacket, his fingers lace the strands of my hair.

He steps closer to me, his eyes burn like a kiss across my lips. Every single cell senses him, and calls for him, but the only touch he allows is the soft connection of his still hands.

"Anything else?"

As always his passion makes me stronger. "Kiss me," I demand.

"OK," He breathes deep against my lips before his kiss takes mine.

Our second kiss is slow and tender, removed from the rush of the first. Almost effortlessly his tongue slides between my lips, finding my own for a slow lover's caress. His scent is intoxicating, the gentle movements of his tongue and lips sensitise me only to the rhythms of us. My tongue seeks out his and I relish the taste of him. It's been too long.

I feel his lips widen and tighten into a smile as he collects my first whimper. He laces his fingers through my hair, travelling up to my ear, and he collects my second. He steps closer into me, reconnecting our desire, and I burn for him. My hands finally find movement against his hips and trail down to his arse, curving the perfect globes and pulling him closer. It is like this that he whimpers for me.

Fraying within us his lips leave mine. His eyes are dark and hooded. His hands stay wrapped within my hair, his lips stay sharing my breath.

"Anything else?"

"Take me to bed."

"OK," it is barely a whisper, as weightlessly he lifts me into his arms.

Part Five: The second night of their reunion.

The rush of our hearts slow together, the rapid rise and fall of our breathing fades. Our heated bodies don't make a single movement from each other - there has been too much distance.

Open, my gaze doesn't leave him. My eyes leisure in slow exploration of him - the lusted haze of his green eyes, the soft true smile, the shine of his sweat-tinged settling muscles in the moonlight, and the fading red marks of my passion against his back.

I don't allow for my eyes to move from the valleys and plains of his body, for fear of the signs that we have left here. The silent proof of the lust we've shared in my flat made for another's appropriate love. I don't allow myself to dwell on the knowledge that I have forever tarnished this flat – that there will not be a single day where I will move past this space and not feel the pleasure of our bodies united. There will be a permanent reminder that within the pleasure of his kiss and snap of his hips there was an eternity to be found and treasured.

His green eyes connecting with mine offer me another glimpse of us.

He whispers his promise into my skin, "I won't leave you, Sy, not now, not ever."

***Well this whole things going to be missing scenes, and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna use a little bit of artistic licence in the 2011 story, but I do know I've used a little already – hope you guys think it's worth it.