Sorry for the long delay on this one! This season of Once is wreaking havoc on my muse. A little angst here so I apologize in advance, but hopefully the end makes up for it! Enjoy!
Emma pulled her blanket tight around her shoulders as she sunk into the cushions of the recliner she'd had for years. The room around her was empty of light and life, lit only by a lamp that made its home on a nearby end table. Killian had gone into the hospital a few hours earlier when an urgent trauma code had summoned him to the emergency room unexpectedly. She'd opted to go home, a place she hadn't seen for several days and the collection of walls and windows that once provided her with comfort that nothing else could.
That wasn't true anymore. He had somehow proven just how capable he was of offering that and quite a bit more.
The real vexation was pinpointing the instant of when exactly she decided to accept that. The moment she'd kissed him against that alley wall just after leaving his office had been a real turning point, especially because she hadn't allowed herself to be scared of him. She had every right to - he was technically dangerous and by some opinions perhaps even some sort of monster.
He wasn't a villain though - and Emma knew she'd spend the rest of her life trying to convince him of it if she had to. The irony of spending her remaining years with the man who had endless ones was almost tragic. Well, tragically perfect in a manner of speaking.
A smile snuck it's way across her lips as she quietly remembered the effort she'd put in on the matter of saving his self worth earlier in the day when they'd returned from the crypt. They'd gone to a place that housed the dead in exploration of his past, but when she finally came to, she couldn't help but notice just how quickly it had followed them back. She'd never seen him quite as fragile as he clearly was in the dreary aftermath of the midday storm.
Water pitter pattered against the large glass window of what Emma quickly realized to be Killian's bedroom. It was only right that she'd sort out her location rather quickly seeing as how she'd been spending an awful lot of time there lately. The quilt that had been drawn around her was thick and warmly woven, the kind that waited for winter to come calling. She sat up slightly, cringing a bit at how stiff her body felt. God, how long had she been out?
"About three hours or so, love," he said softly from the doorway, his words answering the question she did not ask. "You were, umm….pretty out of it."
He looked as handsome as always, but with more uncertainty than he'd had the last time she woke up to find him in this stance. He'd pulled on a blue and black flannel shirt she hadn't seen before, one that would have certainly emphasized the color of his eyes if they hadn't taken on such a sudden gray hue. He'd obviously spent a good part of her midday slumber engaged in the old habit of self loathing.
"Yeah it seems so," she agreed, her head tilting as she decided to try and lighten the mood. "What happened to my mind being an impenetrable steel trap?"
She gave him a playful smirk with her returned quip, the line forcing him to give up a weak smile. It didn't reach his eyes though and as her head pulled together a few fragments of memory, she soon remembered why.
The history. The crypt. The pain. The bite - and the blood loss.
"I've never had much luck in your head, love," he assured her, moving a little closer. "The lack of lucidity works against your defenses so you were easier to read given the circumstances. Poor form, I know - but I needed to know you were okay."
He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, tilting his head to analyze her appearance. It was an act that he did often and one that would have made her uncomfortable if it was anyone else, but he had a way with making it so intimate. His lips pressed gently together as his hand gave a shaky reach toward the space on her neck that was still slightly achy. He let out a soft gasp as he touched the bite marks familiarly with those guilty fingers. She shifted, trying to pull his attention away from what he'd done back to her.
"You're never going to stop doing that, are you?"
He smirked at that, his expression settling just enough that she extended her hand to take his free one. His eyes brightened slightly and a sudden satisfaction of being able to reassure him filled her bones. Being able to save him from any percentage of his agony was something she'd wanted since the first time he'd pierced her skin.
"There's a long list of things I'd prefer to never stop doing, love," he replied with a teasing smile. "So you're going to have to be more specific."
It was something that happened in those recent moments of shame and self loathing - his deflecting use of charm showing up to combat the painful feelings she knew he was burying. Emma knew there had to be an unfailing way to comfort him, but she'd been having a hell of a time learning just what it was.
"You know what I'm talking about," she replied, stroking his forearm before letting her fingers find his as they pressed on her neck. "I'm fine, Killian."
"I….I know," he stuttered, lowering their hands and threading their hands through one another's. "I just….I haven't done that - the whole losing control like that in a very long time, love."
The crease between his eyebrows deepened as he continued to watch her, his studious pupils trying to decipher her emotions. She matched his expression as vexation set in. Was he upset? Was he angry with himself? Whatever emotion it was that was taking over his features was unsettling and though her mind was anything but clear, she began trying to think of ways to push away his uncertainty.
"Killian-"
"Emma, I…."
Their words followed each other's fast, their simultaneous need to fill the insecure expanse of air hanging between them suddenly evident. His weak grin flexed just barely at the corners of his mouth as he looked back down toward their tangled hands and let his lips part before pressing them closed once more. What was going on in his head?
His mouth had barely opened again when his phone buzzed on the nearby dresser. His eyebrows furrowed as he snatched it, offering a rough greeting and several 'okay' confirmations followed by a 'be there soon'. Emma's heart sunk slightly as he ended the call and tossed the device onto the sheets with a sigh.
"You have to go."
"Aye - emergency surgery," he nodded, taking her hand and pulling it to his lips. "Can….can I see you later? I was hoping we could still talk-"
"Yeah….yeah, of course," she agreed. "Just call me when you're done. I'll grab my stuff and head home-"
"Nonsense, love," he cut in, squeezing her fingers and reaching to tuck back a stray strand of her hair. "I, uh….I got some things I thought you might like to eat for breakfast. You're welcome to eat before you go or you can even just….stay. If you'd like to."
It startled Emma how much she did want to in that moment, but the hope flickering in his eyes wasn't quite enough to outweigh the uncertainty that had evolved between them since she woke up. She knew she should go home - at least for a little while.
"How about you save whatever you bought-" she started, summoning her best fake smile. "-and you can make me breakfast another morning?"
The way his lips pressed together told her it wasn't the time frame he was wanting to hear. His insecure posture and unsteady hands needed to hear her label it as 'tomorrow morning'. Her tongue in her cheek seemed to keep her from giving him that confirmation, though she had zero reasons why. He mustered that casual smirk of feigned ease and Emma felt the odd tension of unfinished business settle between them.
"Of course, love," he nodded. "I suppose waiting won't be the worst thing in the world."
He was right about that. It was this whole notion of leaving his bed and going back to the real world that might be though.
Emma groaned softly at the memory, spying the clock on the wall and glaring at how it mocked her waiting. She couldn't remember how long she'd been sitting there in hopes that he'd land on her dusk drenched doorstep, but it had definitely been long enough. Her phone chimed at the moment she finally decided so and the screen lit up with a lead on a new perp. She scanned the profile quickly, her eyes darting back to the time as she contemplated whether or not the job could be the distraction she needed.
Well, there was no reason not to find out - especially since her preferred diversion was medically preoccupied.
She rose to her feet with a huff, checking for the text or missed call alert she'd yet to receive from him before heading to the front door where she'd left her boots. Tugging her jacket from the wall hanger and pulling it snugly over her shoulders, Emma tried to remind herself that she should go - she had to keep busy while he was busy. Besides, emergencies could take hours and it wasn't like he wouldn't know exactly where or how to find her when he was finished.
The smirk that curved at the corners of her mouth reddened her cheeks as she slipped out the door, clicking the deadbolt behind her. Something about being a minor stakeout and one arrest away from seeing Killian again set Emma on a slight jog to her car. Just a few hours of work and then they could go right back to play.
Son of a-
The incomplete string of curse words tumbled around in Emma's head the instant she suddenly came to. The room was dim and empty of sound, leaving only the droning beep of a machine to meet her ears as she tested consciousness. Her mind shifted slightly as she forced her eyes to peek open just enough. The battle wasn't fairly wagered though and her gaze fell shut again quickly before any sense could be gathered. She wasn't sure where she was yet or even how she'd ended up in such a disoriented state, but as her vision made its second attempt, two things became somewhat clear.
She was in a hospital room - and she was hurt. What the hell had happened?
Her head turned limply to the side as she took in the sterile surroundings vaguely. She felt weak, a throbbing in her head making blink heavily as she fought her dwindling awareness. A soft whimper escaped her as she swallowed hard, a noise that was slightly amplified when she tried to move. It was so oddly and shakingly reminiscent of the last time she'd woken up there, but this time, there was no mysteriously comforting doctor to open her eyes to. Her addled mind flickered with the memory and she nearly fell back into oblivion again.
Killian.
The letters of his name loosely arranged in her head as she allowed herself to default back to him as her newly found safety net. The hospital - she was in the hospital. He had to be somewhere close by. Her fingers reached toward the bandage on her arm that was holding the IV in place and she fumbled with the adhesive corners in an attempt to disconnect the tubes.
Yes - Killian. She had to find him.
"Emma."
The sound of her name was so faint in the low light of the room that she was almost certain she'd imagined it. She hadn't though and the labored gasping for air that followed the whispering voice was suddenly everything she needed to hear.
"Killian?"
Her own voice was heavy and a bit slurred as she hovered on the brink of consciousness. She caught brief flashes of him as she faded in and out - the way his eyebrows knit together with utmost concern, the deep and anxious blue of his irises, the manner in which he'd thrown his scrubs and lab coat to the chair by the door before barging to her bedside. She was enough about her wits to catch the conflict in his stare and to hear the jagged pattern of his breathing. He'd probably been about to head home, his post surgery attire made up of the sweatpants that hung just right on his hips and a plain white tee. They were clothes that suggested he'd had the intention of stopping by to cozy up next to her at home and maybe even spend the night tangled up in her sheets this time.
They weren't there though. They were here - and the worried look he was wearing told her he had no idea why.
"Killian…."
She tested the tense air with his name once more, still a little uncertain that he was real in that moment. His hair hung in that lengthy unkempt style, shielding his eyes partially as he scanned her skin. He touched her in a gentle and extremely cautious method, his ghostlike fingertips trailing the length of her arm as he quickly removed her IV and wrapped her arm. He tossed away the rest of the monitoring tubes and loosened the blood pressure cuff in a fluid motion that Emma barely felt. The machines beeped as they were pushed aside and the sound nudged her toward reality just a little more.
"I'm going to get you out of here," his voice hurried. "Just hold on, love."
The blankets were pulled back and his arm carefully slipped under her legs, wrapping his embrace supportively around her weak frame as he lifted her. His chest was firm and familiarly strong as her head fell gently against his chest. One of her hands reached for support against his shoulder and he steadied his protective hold around her helpless body.
"Stay with me, love," he all but whispered, his feet turning them into the dim hallway. "I've got you."
The words were well practiced ones - she'd heard them several times from this man. Her brain suddenly put together the recollection of the first time he'd said them and how that verbal reassurance had brought her to the safety of a room much like the one they were now leaving. It wouldn't have made sense to anyone else, but even as injured as she clearly was, vacating the hospital for his care was definitely her desired plan.
No other doctor would fight to heal her like Killian would - and right now, he was her best chance at a safe and sound recovery. The world cloaked itself in irony as her eyes dropped closed and she let the vampire who had a certain talent for saving her do it one more time.
The air was cool when she awoke, the remaining slivers of a day's sunlight filtering in through the breeze gathering curtains in Killian's bedroom. Emma's head pounded heavily, only adding to her confusion about what time it was. It had been pitch black outside when his careful footsteps had carried her from the corner room of the hospital, but the dwindling light just beyond the window promised a fast approaching sunset. Had she slept an entire day?
Her breath caught slightly in her throat as she looked down at the cuts and two rather large gashes on her hands. Her fingers flexed as she tested out just how painful her injuries were. She winced a bit as the silence circled in around her, an uncomfortable sound that caused her to wonder where he might be. She didn't have to wait long to find out.
"Emma…."
She heard him before she turned to see where he stood, that breathy tone of his voice a strange mix of relief and fear. He lingered in the doorway in a manner that felt suspicious. It was unsettling and Emma straightened up against the headboard of his bed, her hand smoothing the space on the sheets where she was hoping he'd sit. This time, it didn't appear that hope was falling in her favor.
"How do you feel?"
"I'm….I'm okay," she replied, lifting her hand to her scalp. "My head hurts."
"You fell pretty hard," he nodded, holding up a plastic bottle. "Some water and some more rest - you should be feeling better soon."
Emma squinted at his directions, the edge of his words cutting into her quite awkwardly. There was something very off about the way he was acting so businesslike. He crossed his arms over his chest after a moment and she couldn't help but analyze him. Something was wrong.
"Killian…."
The way she said his name seemed to strike a nerve and he shuffled his stance, taking a subtle step backward. Emma moved without thought, lowering her feet to the floor without breaking their locked stares. She paused a moment when his eyes begged her to and her gaze fell to the scrapes on her knuckles.
"You didn't…."
Her voice hung in the thick air, the question of why he hadn't healed her making her stomach turn. He drew a deep breath and dropped his own gaze to the restored wood floor below. Something was definitely wrong.
"Why?"
"Because it's just….not right, Emma."
"Not….right? What does….what do you mean?"
She moved a little closer, her feet cautious so as not to spook this deer in the headlights he'd become. He shook his head slightly as he ran a lazy hand down his face. The lessened distance provided her with a better look at his appearance and the lack of confidence it seemed to hold. His eyes were bright blue but very bloodshot, their irritated color bringing out the red of his flannel shirt. His hair had obviously become the victim of his frustrated hands and it stuck up in a few different directions. He looked exhausted, an observation that concerned her greatly considering the fact that this man didn't require sleep.
"Killian," she said softly. "What's wrong?"
"This, Emma," he replied after a moment, his tone foreign and quiet. "This….this is wrong."
"This? Us?"
"Emma," he sighed, toying with his ring and staring at the floor. "What do you remember about last night?"
Her mind spun in circles, trying to push aside how much his answer had hurt like hell while she tried to sort through the events that had left her physically a little worse for wear. She squinted as he waited, her heart sinking in her chest as his whole body seemed to slump.
"I was working….chasing a guy who'd been on the run for a couple of weeks," she started, trying to stabilize her voice. "I fell and I woke up in a room - a hospital room I think."
"Then after that?"
"You….you found me," she recalled. "You brought me here."
"Aye," he confirmed, his jaw flexing familiarly. "That was almost a whole day ago. You've been sleeping this whole time and….I didn't want to give you blood. You weren't able to make the choice for yourself, but I had to - just enough that you'd be okay."
"Oh," she said with brief confusion. "So you took care of me….again? Why is that wrong?"
"It's not that, Emma," he continued. "It's just….while you were asleep, I did some research on this man you've been after. Some guy named Walsh from New York. It appears he had your name as much as you had his."
"Had my name? You're saying he-" she swallowed. "-wanted to hurt me?"
"Aye," he answered in that unstable tone. "I was so….angry when I found out, Emma. I….I had to do something."
His speech was tumultuous, crisscrossing in confusion and some shade of dread as he tried to explain himself. Emma found herself scrambling a bit for clarity as she tried to process his words, but it didn't take long for the color to drain from her expression once she realized what he was almost saying.
"Killian, you….did you hurt him?"
"I think….more than that," he answered, the fading sunlight highlighting the pain in his features. "I found him and I….bit him - I bit him hard, Emma."
"But what….how….is he-"
"I-I don't know for sure," he stammered. "I left him by the bridge near the woods. He was bleeding terribly and I….I could have saved him, but I didn't….I didn't want to."
The agony of consequence was scribbled all over his stressed expression. Emma's eyes hovered on the way his entire body tensed and the way his lip quivered with the words he just couldn't say. As much as he never had been to her, she could see how much he felt like a monster - and she hated that look on him more than any other.
"W-Why?"
"He hurt you, Emma," he replied, his words clipped and bitter. "He could have done more than that, but somehow a passerby saw you and called an ambulance. Nobody knew it was him….nobody was going to hold him accountable. But Emma, I….I felt it - the pain and the fear. It hit me just as it did you, but not hard enough for me to find you. I-I couldn't help you….so I had to stop him."
The tension between them thickened with the admission hanging in the air. He'd done what he had lived in constant fright of - he'd been unable to stop himself from hurting someone. Even more than that, he couldn't bring himself to regret what he'd done. Emma wasn't sure which one of those facts was harder for his soul to carry.
She moved tentatively toward him, her worry and need to keep him close outweighing the emotions that had been hindering her. He straightened, his eyes hovering over her as the moment seemed to hit him like a bag of bricks. The words were there - the ones that she thought might stop him - but as she reached for his hand, he pulled back with a quick shake of his head.
"Emma, you have to go," he said brokenly. "You can't be here anymore."
"Killian - no….stop," she pleaded. "I know what you're trying to do and please don't….don't do this to us-"
"I don't want to do this! But I'm a vampire, Emma….I'm selfish and thoughtless and I take what I want. I'm not good. I don't do the right thing! I lose control and it's….it's wrong, Emma. But I….I…."
"Killian," she cut in, reaching for his hands. "Please-"
"But I have to do the right thing-" he decided, taking her touch and lowering it back to her sides. "-for you. I can't allow my choices to haunt you anymore."
"This isn't the right thing, Killian."
"Emma, I….I love you," he finally admitted. "Which is why I have to do this. I have to let you go."
The world fell out from beneath her feet, the possible happiness she'd thought they could have slipping through her grip faster than was fair. Emma felt her heart breaking into shards as she scrambled for the words that might stop him. She needed him to stay. She needed him to give them a chance.
"No….no, I don't want that, Killian-"
"Why not?"
"Because I love you!"
His eyes went wide as she gasped, nearly choking on the words she wished she'd said a long time ago. The expression working its way across his features was full of conflict and disbelief. It wasn't exactly the reaction she'd hoped for - but then again, these weren't exactly the circumstances she'd imagined they'd be in when she first said those three important words.
"Then you have to stop-"
"I can't!"
The reply left her in the form of a yell, surprising him as he appeared to fight the way the declaration begged to be accepted. Emma stepped confidently into his space, her mouth trembling as she tried to push back the breakdown she was approaching. She'd said it now. She'd told him. There was no turning back now.
"Even if I could," she said, tears lingering in her eyes. "I wouldn't."
His defenses fell almost instantly, a soft sigh falling from him as he finally let her take his fingers between hers. His touch was cold, but the way it started to warm when his palms pressed into hers made her hope spark just slightly. He looked down at the way their skin fused together, studying the lines of her hands like he was trying to memorize them. She understood why - she'd been doing the same thing with the hypnotic color staring back at her.
"Fine," he breathed, his eyes that fiery blue and his shoulders straightening. "Then don't."
It took Emma far too long to process his defiant words, the time suddenly frozen in that expanse of space. His breath was ragged as he tried to calm the energy he'd held behind his argument and his bold stare pulled Emma closer by a fraction. Something shifted between them and the tension snapped, everything collapsing into a pile of submission at their feet as she waited for certainty that this was truly happening. He took a steadying breath as his hands flexed at his sides, his control dissolving as the seconds ticked by at an excruciatingly slow rate.
This had to be it - was he giving in?
"Kil-"
She wasn't able to complete the collection of sounds that pulled together his name before his lips found hers. One hand cupped her jaw while his opposite palm pressed hard against her back, their bodies flush against one another as their tongues tangled passionately. He held her firmly as his lips fell to her neck, tracing the long line of her collarbone while her fingernails dug densely into his scalp. He grunted softly at her forceful touch and nipped softly at the heated flesh of her chest when her head fell back.
"Emma…."
His tone was labored as his fingers fumbled, slipping the fabric of the shirt she'd borrowed from her shoulder and laying his lips gently over the exposed skin left behind. Emma was positive she was going to combust at any second, but his mouth was relentless as he set her further ablaze with his skilled kiss and soothing tongue. Her hands gripped his shoulder blades and he lifted her, speeding them across the hardwood floor of his bedroom and back to the four post bed where they'd first engaged in this burning act of what felt a lot like making love.
Love? Was that what this was?
The question was lost in the deep, confused recesses of her brain as he pulled her shirt over her head and quickly set back to work on devouring her neckline. The mess of hair hanging across his forehead fell against her chest and the feel of it softly brushing against her flesh ignited a subtle shudder. Emma moaned at the feel of his mouth on her and her body tingled with the memory of just how attentive he'd been with those lips in the past. Her bare back was flat against the sheets in mere seconds, the cool feel of the satin pulling her attention back to the immortal man hovering over her.
"Emma-"
He'd paused, his arms holding him up as his hands rested flat against the mattress. He stared down at her with every ounce of desire and a few fractions of the denial she'd seen only moments ago. Emma found herself powerless to know what he was thinking as she fell right back into his blinding blue gaze. He was every bit as disoriented by this new and perhaps dangerous territory they'd entered as she was, but the flicker of light she could see in the dark mystery typically shrouding this man told her just what she needed to know.
He wasn't giving up. He was giving in to love - and surrendering to being completely in love with her.
That lightning speed he possessed rendered them naked in a matter of moments, their scorching skin equally bare as her hands followed the contours of his back. He held himself over her as his fingers wrapped around her thighs and he jerked her closer. Emma felt her legs move of their own volition as they wrapped around his waist and his achingly hard length rubbed slowly against her core. Allowing her head to fall further into the pillow, Emma let her hips rotate as he slid through the growing wetness between her legs.
God, she'd missed this - every single movement she knew he was capable of making and the dozen different ways those efforts would make her fall into complete oblivion.
"Killian - yes," she breathed, reaching for his shoulders as they moved slowly. "Please-"
Her soft begging was met with a needy gasp and with a shaky exhale, he pushed inside harder than expected. A wanting moan escaped Emma as her fingernails pressed into the skin of his lower back with a dull pressure. The air was thick between them and Emma fought not to choke on it as he began to move, his muscles solid and flexing as he began that deliberate push and pull of his hips. Emma held tight to his back as her breath stuttered each time he shoved inside.
This was how it was supposed to be. This was right.
The realization threw her into a frenzy, one full of so much hazy and building pleasure that the painful words they'd shared only minutes earlier dissolved into the sheets beneath them. Her senses vibrated as his control continued to fade, his speed sporadic and her pulse pounding until she heard that sound - the one that should have terrified her from the start but somehow never had.
The strength behind his thrusts wavered, his hips circling lightly as he pulled back just enough for her to catch a glimpse of the feral version of him - the vampire that lived just below the complicated surface of Killian Jones. His fangs were that same piercing white, the fading sunlight in the room not darkening the hypnotic brilliance of them the least bit. His eyes were darker, the pupils blown wide over the navy blue as the veins throbbed in a deeper and somewhat menacing hue. He looked completely wrecked. He looked like he wanted to wreck her.
Emma watched him, her teeth worrying her lower lip as he tore his eyes away from hers. The war he was waging with the bloodlust was evident as he concealed his fangs and tried to catch his breath. The pain that started to consume him was too much to witness and Emma quickly lifted her hand back to the side of his cheek. His head turned back, following her touch as his vision aligned with hers again, the smooth effort of his still desperate body rubbing firmly against hers.
"Emma, love….I can't…."
"Killian," she coaxed, her fingers trailing to the back of his scalp. "Look at me…."
"Emma….I….I need….I can't…."
His head fell fractionally, the familiar motion of him lowering his teeth toward her neck making her heart race. His thick, dark hair skimmed the side of her jaw as she waited for the sharp pain typically brought on by his bite - but it never came. Instead, his forehead pressed gently on her shoulder as his pace quickened again, clearly fraught by the conflict he was feeling.
He was holding back. He didn't want to bite her - not like this. Yet as his breath fell hot and trembling on her collarbone, Emma realized how much she needed him to. She needed to feel that dangerous, unusual, completely unbelievable bond they shared.
"Killian," she managed, her hand stroking the back of his head as he lifted to glance down at her. "I….I want you to. Please…."
"Emma, I shouldn't-"
"I need you to," she pleaded, her body arching slightly as he pushed deeper inside. "Please….do it, Killian. Bite me."
"Bloody hell," he gasped, his accent heavy as his eyes blackened. "I….love you…."
Fire surged through Emma's veins as his teeth sunk into her neck, his low growl nearly a moan and her fingernails indenting deeper into his skin. Time seemed to slow as his hard length continued that torturous drag, moving in and out with a strength she'd missed more than she knew she ever could. Her head filled with that well known haze as he drank, taking life from the thick vein pulsing on her throat while her hand tangled in his messy hair.
He was holding her tight, right over the dangerous brink of destruction - and it was the most alive she'd ever felt.
The final jolt of his hips toppled them both over the edge, his bite weakening as he sighed against her skin and they collapsed together. The soft press of his pricked finger against the puncture he'd left behind barely registered in her addled brain, but as she settled back into a semi aware state, the invitation of sleep began to pull hard at her limp body.
"Killian," she mumbled, her words vibrating against his chest. "I…."
"I know, love," he said in return, his tone suggesting he knew where her voice was headed. "We….we can talk later. You need to sleep."
"I don't….I can…."
"Emma."
The way he emphasized her name was not to be trifled with. The darkness filling the room and the way his thumb traced her bare shoulder told Emma that they didn't need any more words. She only needed this - to be here in his bed, naked and happy on a level she still didn't fully understand. She only needed him.
"Will you stay here….with me?"
Her eyes flickered opened with the last bit of strength she could muster, the sight of his deep blue and very sated ones making her stomach flip flop. He looked at her in a way she had never quite seen before and that strange, confusing, coveted four letter word prodded her heart when he gave up a half smile.
"Yes, love," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'll stay."