For Hawks GaL and Alexa Twitch: Maybe you won't have to shout at the screen anymore

The package didn't seem at all consequential when she'd gone to get the mail that morning, nestled in amongst the standard bills and junk mail it sat with an uninterested air. It was only when she turned it over and saw her fathers name that she felt the stirrings of curiosity. She still received mail and letters addressed to him, most from companies or distant contacts that hadn't yet heard of his death, each time one came through it tugged at her heart a little, but she'd never gotten a parcel.

It was a book, it was doubtful it was anything other than a book, her father had an amazing network of people all around the world that would send him old copies and battered books, relics of disassembled libraries and titles that he had once asked about.

The thick brown paper came away easily, ripping clean across the front and revealing the title in one heart stopping, mind freezing moment.

Inkheart.

She almost dropped it, her fingers suddenly numb as she gripped the pristine hardback: First edition, she thought dully. She choked, her legs suddenly giving out from under her and she hit the living room floor hard, the impact shaking free the tears that had formed in the wake of her shock. It was over.

She felt an almost overwhelming hysteria welling up in her chest, her breath suddenly lacking air as she was faced with the agonising truth that it was all over now, he would want to leave, and there was nothing she could do to stop him from leaving, that there was no argument that could keep him here away from the home he had been so desperately trying to get back to for sixteen years.

She shook, pressing the book close to her chest as she felt the first of her tears spill hot and tumbling over her cheeks, her living room blurring behind the wall of tears.

She would be alone now, truly alone, and she knew in that moment that his loss would kill her, would somehow hurt more than her parents because he had become her very heart and soul, her every breath and waking moment was for him.

She could lie, she could pretend that the mail never came today, or that she never received it, things got lost in the post all the time. But she knew she couldn't, to hold something as big as this from him would be the ultimate betrayal, the guilt would burn a hole in her heart, and should he ever find out his hate for her would be a terrifying absolute.

She could see her life without him, cold and empty, endless hours filled with the monotony of simply waiting for the time to pass. And the nights would become agony, with nothing to fill the cracks in her heart. Her tears fell faster, her breaths became more ragged as she tried to breath around her painful sobs.

It was how he found her, hours later, the door shutting softly behind him as he fell to his knees beside her, his hand hot through her shirt as he stroked along the curve of her back as she sat curled up on the floor, her head resting on the arm of the chair, her face awash with tears. She couldn't speak, could only listen and cry as the concern in his voice only highlighted the grief that had begun to envelope her heart. He whispered her name, his hands carefully brushing the hair from her face, wiping at her tears as he tried to get her to look at him, but she couldn't, to look at him now would hurt her more than she could bear, to see his eyes so bright for the last time.

She let her arms unfold, revealing the book that she had clutched so tightly and felt it slip from her fingers as he took it from her, his breath stilling as he turned it over in his hands. It was a moment that lasted an age, and she felt the tears stop as she waited for his reaction, his face expressionless as he stared at the book he held, the one that he had searched the world over for, the one that held the promise of his old life. She didn't know what she expected from him, but she wasn't prepared for when he would walk away from her, the book held tight in his white grip as she watched him leave, her body succumbing once more to the aching misery.

He was gone for what seemed forever, she only realised that he'd left the house when she'd gone to the kitchen to make herself some tea, her throat sore and dry. It had been left on the kitchen table, the dark purple cover glaring up at her with an animosity and malevolence she'd never felt from an inanimate object before. She started to worry when the sky grew dark outside, the day had slipped by with her training her ears to listen out for the smallest of sounds, sometimes finding herself once again overcome when her mind turned invariably back to what would happen when he came back, to the words she would hear fall from his lips when he asked her if she could read him back.

She picked up the book, holding it distrustfully as she flipped through the pages. She had only ever read it once, could barely remember the words and she scanned them now, trying to remember the key points, eyes resting briefly on the woodcut illustrations that marked the chapters, remembering with a stark vividness the sight of those black and white pictures coming to life. At the end of the book she slowed, eyes reading every word and filling with pain as she slowly familiarised herself with the one chapter she had always tried to forget, the words that made up his death had once been imprinted on her mind, the bizarre idea that they could actually happen had once been something that had horrified her, but now they terrified her and she once again wondered whether his time away could actually change the fate that the book had in store for him.

She read over those lines once more and when she looked up he was there, standing like a shadow in the doorway, his hair casting shadows over his face, obscuring whatever emotion he held in his eyes. Meggie sniffed, hastily wiping the back of her sleeve across her face and soaking up the tears as she looked anywhere but at him.

The sound of his footsteps echoed in time with her pounding heart, the trepidation rising in her chest with every step he took that brought him closer, his shadow blocking the light and darkening the pages in front of her. She couldn't look up at him when he spoke, hoping desperately that he couldn't see the tears that shimmered in her eyes or the way they fell on her cheeks when she closed them in anticipation of his damning request.

"I think perhaps that you have misunderstood how I feel about you." He said softly, tugging the book from her unresisting fingers.

Meggie felt a sob tighten her throat, she hadn't realised just how much those words would hurt. She tried to stand, to put some distance between them but he caught her arm when she would have backed away from him. "Meggie…?"

"Please don't." She whispered, finding her voice. She couldn't get her eyes to meet his, so she stared instead at the book, that hateful object that had so thoroughly ruined her life. "I don't think I can hear it right now." She leant against one of the counters when he let go of her.

"Oh." He sounded devastated.

She chanced looking up at him, at the weight that seemed to settle on his shoulders and the way he traced the edges of the books hard covers with his fingertips. He wasn't looking at her, instead he stared at the cover, at the single word that was embossed on the cover. It was as though he was fighting a battle, his body rigid as words formed and died on his lips. "I thought maybe that…" He looked up suddenly, catching her eyes and making her stomach lurch at the depth of hurt layered in their depths. "You seemed so upset that I thought perhaps you…felt…" He sighed roughly and threw the book onto the table, the loud thud it made as it landed punctuated his tight words.

Meggie blinked, the faintest of frowns creasing her brow as she stared at him, still conscious of the way her cheeks felt tight as her tears dried. Her eyes flickered back and forth between his troubled face and the hastily thrown book, his utter disregard at its preservation saying more than his words ever could. "Dustfinger?"

He looked up, arms folded in front of his chest in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. She had a sudden and fleeting impression, a bright spark of hope that maybe she had been wrong. They looked at one another, the seconds slipping by and becoming heated, fairly vibrating with the words left unsaid, such unbearable tension mounting until finally he spoke, his broken whisper filled with such hope and agony that Meggie nearly cried. "Ask me to stay." He closed the distance between them in only two steps, his hands holding hers tightly, clasping them between them as he looked down at her.

"What?" The warring hope and confusion that clawed at her chest made the word shake as it fell from her lips, taken in completely by the encompassing heat of his hands as they held her. She trembled, her legs felt weak as she realised with a flowing warmth that she had been wrong, that she had misread all those far away looks, those darkened glances, that maybe what she had hoped was reciprocated love in those long, slow kisses that he bestowed upon her at night was real. Her hands shook within his, her heart beating frantically in her chest as she read the obvious emotions in his eyes.

"Ask me to stay," He said again, looking desperately hopeful at her face "Tell me that you feel just a fraction of what I…."

She kissed him, hurried and desperate as her heart burst, her hands untangling from his so that she could throw her arms around his neck, capturing the soft exclamation of surprise before he kissed her back, his hands at a loss until she felt them on her back, pulling her tight against him.

"I love you." The words were pressed against her lips and she could taste the truth of them, claimed them and whispered them back, feeling him smile into the kiss, pulling her up against him, almost crushing her in his enthusiasm.

When she cried this time it was because of the ecstatic light that blinded her soul, pressing her face to his chest and laughing through her tears as he held her tight, his muttered words whispering through her hair.

She could feel the difference his admission made, the brush of his lips on hers stirred a fire that burnt so much brighter knowing that he felt the same as her, the gentle way his hands held her face so much more loving, the feel of his fingers sliding into her hair made her heart stutter and stall, the slow roll of her happy tears kissed away.

"Stay?" She whispered against his lips, feeling his hands tighten in her hair. "Please stay."

She shuddered as he kissed a slow and burning path underneath her jaw, his breath hot in her ear as he breathed, "Always."

She gasped as he pressed her back against the counter, the heat of his body seemed new to her, making her sigh and tremble as though this were the first time she had been subject to his pressing ardour. And in theory it was, the confessions of love opened up their hearts anew, revealing new depths of electrifying desire, the heady feeling of wondering hands on her body leaving her breathless.

She shivered as they found their way beneath her shirt, warm and soft against her skin. "Upstairs." She gasped, his hands tugging at her shirt.

"No…here." He grazed his teeth against her neck as she moaned at the raw hunger in his voice, the firmer grip he had on her hips as he suddenly lifted her, placing her gently on the counter top as he claimed her mouth in another sudden and bruising kiss.

She pulled at his clothes, breaking their kiss as she undressed him, tearing at his shirt as he pulled at hers, both items discarded and she could revel in the glorious heat of his skin so warm on hers, his arms strong around her as he dragged her up against him.

She felt drugged, something hot and heavy running in her veins, following the path of his hands as they ran down her back, smoothing gently over her hips, his fingertips burning on her skin as he ran them up her thighs, pulling up her skirt as she wrapped her legs around his waist, breath hitching as he kissed her neck.

"I wanted to tell you for so long." She whispered brokenly, her hands winding into his hair and pulling him back to look at her, punctuating her heartfelt confession with brief distracted kisses. "But I didn't think you would feel the same."

He shook his head briefly, silencing her doubts as he captured her lips in a soft kiss. "The night you came to me, when you trusted me to be the first to touch you…" His eyes were dark with the memory, his hands suddenly tighter on her. "I couldn't have…." He breathed raggedly, pressing his cheek to hers. "I wouldn't have, if I didn't love you."

She kissed his neck, drawing away his hair so she could run her lips over where his heart pulsed beneath his skin. "I loved you then too." She whispered quietly, realising how much time they had missed, sighing hotly, body arching as he did things with his fingers that made her shudder and moan, legs shaking as he lifted her, his nails grazing her skin as he pulled off her underwear, smothering the cries he stirred from her as his hand rubbed against her, feeling the heat of her desire spreading around his fingertips.

"Oh god, please." She gasped, pressing her face to his shoulder, her hands tight on his arms, holding herself up when she would have fallen. She ached for him, entire body thrumming with desire, made sharp and fever hot with the love she felt in every touch, every kiss. Whatever conscious thought she possessed now was in the fumbling motions of her hands as tugged at the waistband of his jeans, her thumb hooking into the soft denim and sliding along his skin, making him twitch and gasp, stealing the breath from her lungs, her fingers trembling with hurried movements as she pulled at the buttons, making his eyes gleam with a barely suppressed fervour. "I need you."

"You have me." He told her breathlessly, and she could hear every meaning in the words, could feel the truth in his kiss as he pressed up into her, releasing a soft sigh of pleasure as she found herself complete. It felt as though they were trying to claim the lost time, to try and turn back the clock so that every kiss was new, meant more because it was the first time. She breathed his name against his lips and felt him sigh in return, his hand warm on the back of her neck as he held her, his kiss deep and full of anguished love as he moved within her, capturing every whimper, every quiet moan. This wasn't sex anymore, this was definitely love, only love could have made her feel this way, like she was flying, held down only by the heat and weight of his hands.

She cried out softly, his hand on the curve of her back as she arched into him, breathing in time to the slow, grinding roll of his hips, the ecstatic friction that built up the fire within her. She felt herself letting go, his hands guiding her down until her back met the cool surface of the counter, her eyes closed as his hands ran in a meandering path, fingers fleeting over her lips before they trailed down her throat, over the smooth skin of her chest before flattening over her stomach, his tongue joining the paths he drew as he leant over her, his hair soft and tickling on her skin. Her hands shook on his shoulders, the back of his neck as he pushed her higher, his obvious desire for her turning her on more than the feel of him driving into her.

She swore, profusely and creatively, mixing in professions of love as he pulled her legs up higher around his waist, the new angle making her see stars, a new and consuming fire burning the air from her lungs and all she could hear were her own restrained cries, her hand reaching back to brace against the wall so she could meet every thrust, could feel it every time he hit that sweet spot inside her, each burning stroke driving her closer, higher, building her up until with a hoarse cry of his name she felt the tide of ecstasy rip through her, the dizzying rapture simmering in her veins as she felt him still against her, his own release making him grab at her, his arms beneath the arch of her back as his love for her fell from his lips, the culmination of his furious longing escaping in that one agonisingly sweet breath.

He slid to the floor, bringing her down with him so that they landed together, her legs still around his waist as she sat in his lap, his face pressed to her shoulder as they both fought for breath, Meggie's head tipped back against the cupboard door, her hand cradling his head as she breathed, the pattern of repeated words faint on her lips as she spoke them, over and over, finally free to say it.

"I love you."