Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: This was my entry for the Second Season of Our Discontent Anonymous Angst Contest. I originally started writing it for the Public Loving contest, but then it kind of wrote itself into a different contest, so I submitted it where I thought it would be a better fit. :)

Suggested Listening: "Hardest of Hearts" by Florence + The Machine, "Howl" by Florence + The Machine, "Fire Escape" by Matthew Mayfield, "Roads" by Portishead

There is love in your body but you can't hold it in

It pours from your eyes and spills from your skin

Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks

And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts

There is love in your body but you can't get it out

It gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth

Sticks to your tongue and shows on your face

That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste

The air around her swirled with voices and words she couldn't make out. It was marked with the heady scent of alcohol and the steady pulsing of music reverberating against her eardrums. It was an environment she missed and an escape she was desperately trying to find again.

Readjusting herself on the bar stool, she curled her fingers around her glass, the condensation causing her hand to slide up it slightly. Bringing it to her mouth, she closed her lips around the straw, drawing the cool liquid through it while her eyes sought out a return glance that had yet to come.

It was only a matter of time.

This was what she knew. This was what she was good at.

As the liquid hit her throat, Leah Clearwater closed her eyes. She swallowed back the grimace as it burned all the way down until it hit her stomach, allowing the warmth to envelop her insides completely.

Burning was good. She came here when she wanted to feel that burn. It didn't last long, but as she swished the whiskey and water around in her mouth, she knew it was the kind of burn that would make her forget just long enough to get what she wanted.

Something raw. Something tangible.

Something temporary that reminded her of what it was like to feel in the first place, yet she could forget in the morning.

She needed that because lately, she wasn't able to forget.

Taking a deep breath, Leah adjusted herself on the leather bar stool. She crossed her right leg over her left, her copper skin glowing against the faint light, accentuated beneath the black dress she wore. She loved this dress. It was simple, classic. The dress was old but Leah felt powerful when she wore it.

He told her it made her look powerful.

Power was good. Leah knew the men watched her – hunted her – but they would find out she was in control, not them. Power meant she allowed herself to be caught on her terms. It meant she could walk away whenever she wanted.

And she always held the power.

Before him.

Before he worked his way inside her. Before his words etched away at the protective shell encasing her hardened heart. Before she lost control in a pair of kind eyes that remembered exactly who she used to be before she was this person sitting at the bar.

Before he brought that person out of hiding…if only for a moment.

A brush against her arm brought her back to the present. Peering over her shoulder, Leah noticed a tall man with skin lighter than her own glance down as he set his empty glass on the bar. His eyes lingered a moment when they caught hers. After a few seconds, he smiled at her.

The smile was all too familiar. It wasn't just a greeting. It was a not-so-subtle invitation, one she trained herself to recognize anywhere. It was an offering of escape.

But she never made it this easy.

Tearing her eyes away, Leah refused to hold this man's stare or return his smile for a moment too long. Her gaze brushed past the spot where two weeks ago she'd heard him speak her name for the first time in six years.

"Leah?"

She froze in place, her eyes still boring holes through those of the man who'd become her target for the night, even as his bounced behind her shoulder, clearly wondering who was trying to piss on the tree he'd already marked. She was a little annoyed herself someone had interrupted just as she was about to seal the deal, although she highly doubted she'd need to try much harder.

As much as she wanted to turn around and tell this person to kindly go fuck himself, something stopped her – a knowing knot in her stomach forming as the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention.

However, she didn't say a word because there was familiarity in that voice. There was a sweetness in it, one she hadn't heard in so long. The voice was practically an apparition, barely registering in Leah's memory.

Yet there was still something about it.

It compelled her to turn around and see to whom it belonged. There was something itching at her insides and begging to be proved wrong.

So that's exactly what she did.

Leah wasn't wrong.

Still, she realized it was not the person she expected. Her mouth fell open, tearing apart the source of the voice with skeptical eyes. This was not the skinny kid she grew up with. He wasn't the same awkward teenager who played football with the man who made her this way. This was not the same 18-year-old boy whose eyes lingered on hers a little too long when Sam announced he and Leah were getting married. He wasn't the same person who pulled over to pick her up off the side of the road when she was soaked to the bone from walking in the rain to God knows where, or the same one who pulled her into his arms when she told him how Sam had asked for his ring back to give to someone else.

The man he had become left nothing behind of the boy she used to know.

Yet the longer her eyes lingered, Leah noticed in some ways he was still the same.

Those eyes, even in that instant, managed to see straight through her.

Leah' leaned one elbow on the counter, hardly noticing the tall man had walked away. The opportunity was missed, but the disappointment faded as quickly as his retreating form.

Running one hand absentmindedly through her ebony hair, her eyes fell on the clock just above the bar, causing her heart to jump.

His flight was supposed to leave ten minutes ago.

He called her three times this morning, and every single time she stared at the caller ID, contemplating – fighting with herself – before she hit the ignore button and let him talk to voice mail. She stared at that stupid fucking message notification on her phone all day, and she fought back every urge inside her to press the button to check it. She didn't because she knew what he was going to say. She knew what he was going to ask and the truth was she didn't think she was strong enough to hear it.

At least that's what she kept telling herself.

It was easier that way – to shut down, to close herself off, keeping anyone who held the power to hurt her at arm's length.

It was easier to say no, a basic rule she forgot with him almost from the start.

"Leah, it's just dinner. I'm not asking you to marry me or anything."

She shot him a glare that could wilt flowers while she leaned against the front door, the smile falling from his face in slow motion as he looked away. "I don't do dinner," she muttered, looking at the wall beyond his shoulder.

One corner of his mouth turned upward in a half-smile and he cocked an eyebrow in her direction. "So you don't eat?"

"You know what I mean..." She crossed her arms in front of her chest before bringing her eyes back to him, the steel in her gaze projecting her sincerity, even though the insistence in his was wearing down a part of her that never allowed these things to happen in the first place.

But then again, he wasn't like the others. And even though she owed him a little more than she owed them, it only fueled her reasoning behind turning him down.

She didn't want him to know the kind of person she had turned into.

"Tell you what," he murmured, shoving his hands in his pockets. The new confidence in him she still wasn't used to faltered for a moment, the boy she remembered flashing across his features. Still, he tried to hide it. "If we make it to dessert and you're still having a good time, I'll never ask you to do it again. Plus, I'm only in town for a couple weeks so you'll probably get your way regardless. Deal?"

Eyeing his hand warily, it was her turn to cock an eyebrow. "Fine – but you're not getting in my pants."

He snorted. "Since when is chocolate synonymous with sex?" Hesitating for a moment, he shook his head and she couldn't help it as she cracked a grin. "Don't answer that." Biting his lower lip, he looked at her once more. "So deal?"

Pursing her lips together, she fought back her hesitance and told herself that for maybe just one night, she could pretend to be the Leah Clearwater he remembered.

"Deal."

She made it to dessert as well as two rounds of drinks before going home.

Leah had forgotten how easy it was to be around him. It was hard to fight the smile when he talked. Smiles were something she saved for rare occasions. When he looked at her, it wasn't like she was a prize. He didn't make her feel like damaged goods, in desperate need of rescue from her bar stool.

It was a feeling she never knew she hated until he gave her a reason to.

So when he called her the following day to thank her for the evening, it was Leah who didn't hold up her end of the deal. It was she who broke her own rules, asking if he wanted to check out her favorite local band the following Wednesday night. She told herself she was simply reacquainting herself with an old friend, that she was simply thanking him for being there for her so many years ago.

But that very same fact, the familiarity of his presence – the way he made it so easy for her to remember the person she used to be – was what caused her to panic by the time Wednesday arrived.

So when they went to see the band, she did what she always did. She counted on the same ways that got her through the last years, stumbling day to day in a place lost somewhere between living and simply being.

On the dance floor, when she felt him press his body against her back and his hands slide tentatively around her waist, she let him. She moved in for the kill, tilting her neck to one side, feeling his lips ghost across her skin, ignoring the shudder that rocked her body.

She assured herself it was done.

Doing things her way guaranteed it would all be over by morning. When she woke up, he would be gone, taking all the memories with him.

Just to make sure, she treated him like all the others.

When they got back to her apartment, fumbling fingers struggled with buttons and words were lost between frenzied, urgent kisses. When he steered them toward the bedroom, she shook her head and took his hand. She never allowed the others in her bedroom. The bed was a place for relationships, for an intimacy she didn't want.

Instead, she let him take her on the kitchen counter. He didn't complain because he didn't know the difference. He didn't know what it meant.

He didn't know she was getting rid of him.

When they finished, she turned her head when he tried to kiss her. Leah told him it would best for him to leave – best for him or her, she wasn't fully sure. The request was meant to be cold. It was meant to be distant, and it was meant to hurt – to create a steel patch over the tiny fissure he already managed to leave in the impenetrable wall surrounding her.

Yet, he still smiled. The softness in his eyes held her gaze despite what she asked him to do.

Leah's mouth fell open slightly when she saw the care reflected in them, the adoration. Like this was something he always wanted.

Her stomach wrenched with an emotion she barely recognized. In that moment, she realized her plan backfired. Not only did it backfire, he saw right through it. He saw right through her.

Just like he always did.

Leah avoided his phone calls and text messages for the next several days. She told herself she was doing the right thing. She was sparing him the mess she'd become. He didn't deserve to get tangled up with someone like her.

She told herself she wasn't good enough for him.

She told herself he deserved better.

The following week when she sat down at her computer and automatically typed in the web address to her hometown newspaper, she was reminded why he deserved better.

Her eyes fell to the bottom left corner of the page to a birth announcement, to the photo of a mother that should have been her with the man who had ripped out everything good inside her.

She wasn't sure how she ended up at his hotel, standing outside his door. Maybe she needed a reminder. Maybe she needed someone to show her there was more to her life than this hollow feeling, to prove to her she had some kind of purpose.

He did remind her.

He reminded her against the hotel door and once again in the shower. But between all that – what made it different – was that he reminded her with tender hands, soft kisses and whispered words she wasn't used to, words he saved for years.

Words he meant only for her.

Which is why when he took her hand and reassuringly pulled her toward his bed, she let him.

A booming clap of thunder echoed through the room as her eyes lazily drifted open. She wasn't sure how she'd fallen asleep, but it took her just a moment to remember where she was.

She could feel him. She could hear the sounds of his relaxed, even breaths and his scent – a delicious musk mixed with natural sweetness – flooded her nostrils. The cool sheets beneath her cheek were a definite contrast from the temperature of his bare skin pressed against hers.

Flashes – snippets of the hours leading her here – came back to her hazy mind, allowing a comforting warmth to spread through her veins.

Leah didn't want to turn her head but it was necessary. She had to make sure it really happened. Reassurance was needed – a guarantee she wasn't imagining things and that somehow, if only for a moment, she let down the wall just enough to let him in.

So she did, blinking in disbelief as her fingers gripped the sheet beneath her and her dark brown eyes met his already open ones. His face was confident – certain – and when he offered her a content smile, the twisting in her stomach was enough to knock the breath from her lungs.

Her hand reached out without waiting for permission, her fingertips drawing patterns on the dips of chest. He watched her every movement and she watched him, this time seeing everything she once possessed. Everything she wanted.

Everything she could have again.

She wanted this feeling all the time. Forever.

But she knew better than anyone that forever didn't mean a thing.

"Will you stay?" he asked her quietly.

"I can't..."

His face was a mask of stoicism, but his eyes gave away his disappointment. "Leah..."

"This is how it has to be." Propping herself up on her elbows, Leah pulled the sheet tightly against her chest, almost like it was guarding her. Like it was creating a barrier.

Like a thin piece of fabric could protect her and hold everything she felt inside.

"I can't be what you want me to be."

"How do you know what I want?" he replied, tucking one arm behind his head while shifting his gaze to the ceiling. The darkness obscured most of his features, but the faint glow of the streetlight allowed her to see the troubled look on his face. Even now, he was beautiful to her. "You've never even bothered to ask."

"Well, I don't have anything worth giving you," she murmured.

With a sigh, he let his face fall back toward her. The hand next to him reached out just before she felt fingers in her hair, his lips curled into an assured smile. His expression lightened, like the words he was about to speak would dissolve a weight deep inside his body.

"You're wrong," he whispered, the words permeating every inch of the small space between them. "You're what I want, Leah. All of you – just like I always have."

She did stay, staying awake long after he fell asleep, his words repeating in her head. They held the power to heal and destroy. After all, similar words brought her to this city, to the bar she found him in after six long years. Similar words brought her feet to his door, seeking an escape from the scars of the very thing he was offering her.

But somehow even after she left his bed, the truth in the words she told herself didn't change how she felt.

They didn't change her mind either.

It wasn't a risk she was willing to take. It wasn't a risk she could convince herself to take, even if he made her feel something else – something real – beyond the synthetic buzz caused by the drink now in her hand. Her past proved kisses weren't contracts, words weren't guarantees, and promises weren't always permanent.

He was supposed to leave the following Friday.

She let him.

Leah pushed the past fourteen days as far out of her mind as possible and shut her phone off after he tried to call. She ignored the throbbing in her chest and the guilt tearing apart her insides. The tears came out of nowhere and mixed with the water cascading down her face in the shower. Leah swiped both away, each circling the drain before she could give either a second thought.

She would prove she didn't need him. She would prove to them both life was just fine the way it was, that she had everything figured out. She would prove this panic rising in her gut, at the thought of never seeing him again, was a figment of her imagination and a product of fear.

But she was failing.

Miserably.

The changing of songs on the bar's jukebox brought her back to reality as she realized there was once again a presence behind her. The tall man had come back and this time, his insistent gaze was more demanding and less cryptic than it was before.

He gave her a cocky smirk. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Those words were a guarantee. They were a promise a woman could always count on. Yet, even as he spoke them, she drew in a deep breath and couldn't stop the gnawing in her gut, a painful reminder they weren't the words she wanted to hear.

Her hand stretched toward the bar, fingers gripping her clutch. Leah offered him a discontented smile. "No, thank you, I was just leaving."

The man looked surprised but smiled anyway, nodding as he stepped back. He made room for her as she stood and brushed past him, turning as she impatiently squeezed through the bodies packed into the small bar. With each step she felt like she was drowning, an anxious heaviness settling in her chest as she fought the nagging voice inside her head.

You don't belong here.

As she elbowed past the last man standing between her and the door, her footsteps stopped and her heart stuttered when her eyes fell on the person pushing his way into the bar.

His name fell from her lips like a prayer she never knew needed an answer.

"Embry."

His shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths when she spoke his name. Taking a step forward, Embry reached out and seized her hand, pulling her away from the crowd of people and leading her through the exit to the outside world.

The door swung closed behind them and he turned to her, hand still holding hers, ignoring the groups of laughing bar patrons pushing past them inside.

"Why didn't you pick up your phone?"

Leah yanked her hand away from his, crossed her arms, and tried to look away – anything to avoid his intense, onyx gaze.

"There was nothing left to say that hasn't already been said," she murmured before she finally met his stare. His chest was heaving with labored breaths he tried to hide, and the crease between his eyebrows deepened as he watched her.

"Why are you here?" she continued.

"Why are you here, Leah?" he countered with a cursory glance toward the bar.

Scowling at his pointedness, Leah clenched her fists against her body. "Because this is what I do, Embry! This is who I am."

He sighed, shaking his head, the kindness in his eyes mixed with a hint of sadness. "That's bullshit and you know it."

Her insides burned at his words, the defensive barrier she'd created around her heart trying like hell to solidify as she realized he was still chipping away at it, little by little. So she brought it outside herself in the form of an angry sneer. "Don't fucking act like you know me."

Ignoring the jarred look on his face, she turned and walked away, leaving him there as the clicks of her heels on the concrete marked the beat of her pulse pounding in her ears.

But he came after her and she didn't realize it until she felt a strong grip on her elbow, pulling her into the dark alley next to the bar.

"What the fuck, Embry? Let go of me!" Leah exclaimed, trying like hell to plant her four-inch heels on the cement and brace her feet.

However, the pull was too strong. He wasn't going to let her take control. He wasn't going to let her do this her way.

Not this time.

Before she realized what was happening, Embry spun around. He grabbed her by the shoulders and roughly pushed her body against the brick wall, knocking the wind from her lungs while his mouth hungrily sought out hers without restraint. Fingers curling around his biceps, Leah tasted the sweetness on his lips before the warmth of his presence infiltrated her senses. She was lost between both, the need in the way his mouth moved against hers enough to send her reeling.

He swept away every guard she was trying so hard to keep in place.

But even then she fought herself, squeezing her eyes shut before she pressed back against his shoulders. Leah pushed him away in one swift movement even as her trembling fingers absentmindedly moved to her still tingling lips.

She opened her eyes to see Embry watching her insistently, mouth pressed into a thin line as his hands fell to her bare shoulders. "I do know you," he whispered, a plea that somehow was not swallowed in the thick, warm air or the obtrusive noises of the alley.

The sound of laughter from a group of people on the street, walking by several yards away, caused her head to jerk in that direction before she looked back at him. "Why are you here, Embry?" she repeated, her mouth opening as she sucked in deep, calming breaths.

He took a step forward then, closing the gap she'd purposely created between their bodies. She looked down at the air-conditioning unit to her left and the fire escape on her right. There was nowhere she could go, nothing she could do except stay right where she was.

Still, she wasn't entirely sure she could move if she wanted to.

Instead, her eyes watched as his tall, muscular frame moved – as a strand of loose hair fell over his eyes and his tongue darted out to lick that full, bottom lip.

"You already know." Her eyes followed his hand as it traveled back to her cheek. By now she could feel his warm breath on her face.

"Please let me go," she whispered, her voice cracking with the hidden meaning behind it. The words came as a plea despite her face automatically leaning into his palm. The others never touched her like this but he made it a point to. Her hands lifted in front of her as if she could stop him. Yet he only moved into her grasp, her fingers instinctively curling around the fabric of his white, button-down shirt.

"I can't change who I am," she continued, blinking under the weight of his intense gaze. "You don't want this. You don't want me."

"You're wrong." His fingers ghosted down the length of her jaw, her body releasing a slow shudder that started at the base of her spine and slowly crawled its way up. His eyes burned and held her in place as she searched her head for what to say next.

"And I won't let you go," he whispered. "Not this time."

She swallowed thickly, chest tightening at the words she always told herself to question but was finally starting to believe. "You deserve better." She was now searching for reasons to give him as she felt an unfamiliar sting burning her eyes.

"You deserve to be happy."

Her stomach wrenched as his body brushed against hers because despite everything – despite her best protests – right now she wanted more than his words. She wanted more than his guarantees.

She just wanted him.

And she could have him – indefinitely, if she wanted – because he hadn't let her go this time. Despite everything she did to drive him away, he had come after her and pulled her back like no one else ever did.

So this time, she pulled him back too.

She moved swiftly, her fingers clawing at the skin on his neck as she pulled his face down, covering his mouth with hers. Leah poured her answer into the intensity of her lips moving against his, in the pressure of her hands as she pulled him impossibly closer, and in the pliable way she let her body surrender beneath his.

He responded longingly, bracing her against the wall and knocking the breath from her lungs. His fingers fell down her neck, using them to trace slow, measured patterns along her shoulder and clavicle as her mouth fell open against his. Somewhere beyond the heady taste of his breath, she felt his blazing palm work its way up her thigh, disappearing beneath the hem of her dress.

She ignored the voices from the street, intertwined with the honking of a car horn and the sounds of her panting breaths. She curled one arm around his neck, twisting her fingers through his hair while an intoxicating heat burned through her veins.

Let them get caught; she didn't care. For once, there was nothing she was trying to hide. There was nothing outside this heated space, incinerating the insecurities of her past. There was nothing outside these lips on hers as she relinquished her power to the hand now impatiently pushing the dress up her body.

As he ran his nose along the slant of her neck, Leah let a breath escape her throat. Her head lolled back against the uneven brick, hand moving to cover the one on her hip. She guided it up her flesh with a shiver as he caught her eyes, a certain fire in them letting her know he heard and saw nothing but her as well.

Which is why she didn't protest when he hooked his fingers in her panties, his mouth pressing fervent kisses to her neck. She arched her body toward him, feeling the absence of silk replaced by cool brick against skin a moment later. He leaned forward, his lips brushing hers – so close but too far away – while she inhaled the sweetness of his breath, roughly clasping his face in her hands.

She wasn't letting go.

Not this time.

"Embry..."

This time the word was a plea, a request for release, and a question she desperately hoped he could answer.

He finally closed the tiny space between them, swallowing the word as the force – the promise – behind the kiss caused a violent tremble to fan out through every inch of her body. He pulled away entirely too soon, nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth. Unforgiving hands moved across her chest, lowering the dress down her abdomen as his hands greedily sought out her breasts.

Leah gasped into his mouth as his hands moved, his body grinding against hers. The wall dug into her back, creating a delirious pressure that pushed the heat all the way to her fingertips.

Her leg instinctively hitched onto his hip, barely registering the sound of a button popping and a zipper being lowered before she felt rough palms on the back of her thighs. The breath rushed from her lungs when in one swift movement her legs left the ground. Clamping each one around his hips, he trapped her against the building, her fingers writhing into his neck while his lips left a scorching trail along her already overheated skin.

His mouth abandoning her body, he pulled away to look at her, forehead pressing against her while he held her gaze. For just a moment she felt how effortlessly their bodies lined up as he grazed her entrance, just before he slowly lowered her onto him and a gasp fell from her lips.

Leah pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to stop the breath from leaving her, remembering to keep her eyes open. Unlike before, she latched onto his concentrated stare. There would be no forgetting. She could see everything this way.

She wanted to remember every movement, every expression that reminded her why this was different.

Fingers curling around the collar of his shirt, her stomach twisted in a frighteningly beautiful way when he held himself there for just a moment.

Surroundings blurred as he finally moved his hips, and Leah lost focus on everything around them when he pulled out and slowly pushed himself back into her.

She cried out this time, again ignoring any possibility someone could hear her as she trembled against him. Embry didn't wait for her to move, his own ministrations slow and steady. His face knit with determination, a thin layer of sweat glistened on his features. Fingers greedily dug into her flesh as her trembles erupted into a visceral shudder.

Leah leaned forward, breathing in the arousing scent of his skin as her foot found the air conditioner unit below her, bracing herself against it as she finally matched his movements and encouraged him to go harder, faster.

"Embry…" The word was a moan, fingernails raking across his back as the feel of him moving inside her caused an explosion of red behind her eyelids. The power – the promise – behind his movements, mixed with the soft, tender kisses he peppered along her jawline, caused a deliriously unbearable knot to form in her stomach.

She clung to Embry fiercely, unable to control the cries leaving her throat while he made no move to stop them. He wanted her to let go, silently encouraging her with every movement to be a woman who protected her heart but loved with it just as passionately.

Regardless, as Leah soothed his blazing skin with deep, open-mouthed kisses on his pulse, she already knew why she no longer needed to protect it.

"Say it," Leah whispered into his neck just as she felt the intoxicating pressure in her stomach starting to unravel. "Embry..."

A low growl erupted from his throat and he drug his teeth along her jaw although he never lessened his pace. She squeezed her eyes shut as one last whimper left hers.

She wanted the words now not because of what they meant but instead who would speak them.

"I need you."

His throaty promise was everything as it worked their way inside her, the tension inside her exploding as he drove into her one last time. An exhilarating wave of fire coursed through her veins in deliriously slow and steady waves, his breath drifting across her ear as she shook in his arms.

One last word escaped his lips between his exhausted and satisfied gasps.

"Always."

AN: Confession time. I desperately want to hear your thoughts on this one-shot because it is based closely on an idea I have for my next multi-chapter fic once Bluebird is complete. Would you like to see this continue? What did you enjoy most about it? Can't wait to hear you guys think. :)