Hello everyone! Sorry this chapter is a lot shorter than the last one- it's pretty much just a filler but I'm in the middle of exams currently. So I'm just biding my time with not so important chapters until I get them out of the way so I can concentrate on getting the important chapters really good!

Minion- Thanks for being my first reviewer! It makes me very happy to know at least someone is reading it!

Guest- Thanks so much! I'll probably start with Anna seeing some of Luc's memories before I attempt a whole chapter in his POV? And more will be revealed in chapter 3, when we'll find out more about the plot... so please bear with me!

"We're home!" dad shouted as I heard the front door slam. I made my way downstairs just as the oven timer went off. "Perfect timing, as always!" I told him, rushing past quickly whilst trying not to limp, seeing the potatoes beginning to boil over. "Oh, so the potatoes are more important than me then!" he shouted playfully after me. "Yes, of course!" I bantered as I brought the pie out.

He caught a glance of my face and my swollen eye, which I could barely see out of, and did a double take. "What happened?!" he exclaimed, stopping me and looking closer. "Oh, I er…" I stopped, trying to look embarrassed. "I fell over," I admitted, perfectly truthfully. "When did this happen?" he asked, still concerned. "It looks bad, you need to go see the doctor," he told me, pushing back my hair to see the wonderful shades of green and purple it was already going. I waved his hand away. "Dad, come on, it's fine, head wounds always look worse than they are!"

He looked unconvinced, but let the subject drop, inhaling the smell of pie deeply. "Ah, you always know what I need!" he exclaimed, helping himself to a huge mound of potatoes. I don't know how he wasn't fat, the way he ate. "Did they starve you then?" I asked jokingly as he took half the pie. "Hey! There won't be enough for mum when she gets back!" He shrugged as his mouth was full to bursting, then swallowed hugely and said "as you would put it, 'she snossed, so she lost'." I spluttered over my own pie. "What? You can't say that!"

"Why can't I say that? Was that not the right phrase?"

"Um, well yes it was, but 'you snossed, you lost', i.e. the past tense of 'you snooze, you lose', is only for people under 30."

"Aw," he pouted humorously, "why?"

"Because you're supposed to say something boring like 'she didn't come in on time, so she missed out'."

"But it takes so much longer to say," he whined.

"I've learned that people, especially adults, always say things that take 10 words when 1 will do."

"Spoken like a true Fairclough!" he joked, "The family that never wastes words!"

We finished dinner in this way, chatting companionably, until he got a phone call from Mum. Her flight was cancelled due to high winds so she was going to go straight to wherever her next conference was rather than coming via home. Sometimes I hated it that my parents were always away, especially since I turned 18. I used to see my dad each evening when he came in from work, but when I became old enough to be left alone in the house, he began to stay up in London for the week as it was a long commute. Mum worked in lots of different countries- often for long periods of time since she was an interpreter for peace talks. Peace talks were always going on, so she was often away.

So, I spent my time mostly alone in the house, but the rules weren't too strict. I sometimes invited friends round, but I was lonely and missed the sound of people in the house, especially since my brother Jaime left last year to go to university in Wales. It was good that I passed my driving test when I did so I could get myself around rather than having to beg lifts from everyone. After I had cleaned up, Dad went to crash, having, no doubt, barely slept and ate all week. I watched him carefully until he left the room before limping to the sofa to watch TV. I was also trying to ignore the ache I was beginning to feel, especially in my back and legs. I started to feel a bit shaky, so I went to bed, hoping I hadn't gotten ill from my earlier stint in the rain. There was this niggle in the back of my head and a certain face kept invading my thoughts. I forced myself not to think of it. I hoped Luc could reverse it or something; because I was not going to put up with this- I couldn't believe he would suddenly decide to make it so that it physically hurt to be without him. Thinking about him just made it worse, so I tried to get some uneasy sleep.

The next morning I felt terrible when I woke up, and looked it too when I saw myself in the mirror. I looked paler than I normally did, which was saying something as my normal skin tone was pale anyway, and I had big bags under my eyes. I felt worse than yesterday and debated staying in bed, but I didn't have a temperature, so I hoped it would go away soon. In the meantime, I put on some makeup to conceal the worst. I toyed with my breakfast, not hungry, until there was a knock on the door and I went to open it, still limping slightly, expecting the postman, dad being the lazy bones he was and still in bed. He was more of a teenager than me! But it was him. He looked surprised for a second, then swallowed. My eyes followed the movement, and my body began to fight with me. It wanted to rush to him and feel his arms around me, it needed to be with him. I fought the impulse to throw myself into his arms and crossed them instead. He held out some letters and cleared his throat.

"Um, we got the post addressed to your house, I guess because we're both number one. I'm staying round the corner with Maggie and Caleb."

"Oh, thanks," I heard myself say and reached out to take the letters and various other things, making sure to avoid brushing my fingers as I… no, my body so wanted to.

"Please, let me explain." he asked simply.

"Why would you do this to me?" I asked, low and fierce.

"I had no idea it would happen," he began softly.

"No," I said, my voice beginning to rise, "you knew it might happen if you touched me, and now you expect me to be fine with it, well it's not real, you can't just fake love!" I was nearly shouting by now, annoyed beyond reason with him, but also knowing, in my heart, that I was being more than a little unreasonable. I forced myself to take a breath, glancing up to make sure Dad hadn't woken up. Luc spoke calmly, but his accent slightly stronger before, indicating he was probably upset. No, I knew he was upset. I didn't know how I knew, but my body was telling me to comfort him because there was something wrong. He didn't look at me as he spoke.

"I told you I would wait. And I will, as long as it takes. And when I have explained, I will go, if that's what you want." He paused, then looked right into my eyes.

"I will put what you want before what I want, but I'm sorry, there's no way to reverse it. I can't stop an imprint, no-one can. I'm sorry that this happened to you. Even though I wouldn't want to, if it stopped you hurting and if I could, I would stop the imprint. But I can't." he finished gently. That was the sweetest thing a guy had ever said to me, and my heart jumped in my chest until I remembered that this was not real, none of it was. That was the only explanation, the emotion was faked. It was just his imprint talking, not actual affection for me. He saw my face harden and the look on his face made me want to run into his arms. No, made my body want to. I shut the door, waiting until I heard him leave before leaning my back against it, cursing my shaking legs. I stood, glued to that spot, for what felt like ages, until finally I gathered my spinning head and went to watch TV again, hoping I'd feel better soon.

It didn't get better. I felt worse and worse as I moped around, doing nothing. Dad even commented that I looked ill and he was normally in a world of his own. I went to bed early again with only the pains and kinks in my muscles telling me that some part of this was true. It didn't help that Dad was going away for 2 weeks to India tomorrow. He was very worried and wanted to postpone it, but I persuaded him to go anyway, saying that I'd be fine soon and saying he was being melodramatic. I was pretty sure that was a lie.

The next day was worse. And the next. How was that possible? I felt absolutely drained, and not just tired drained, even though I'd done nothing for 3 days, absolutely exhausted, life-sucking drained. I began to regret sending Dad off, was it two or three days ago? I didn't get headaches, but this felt like a steamroller had run over my head. My legs cramped, my stomach cramped. I hadn't eaten anything since the pie, so I heaved uselessly over and over. It couldn't get any worse, surely.

Ooh, cliffhanger (slightly!) I'm sorry nothing was particularly revealed apart from some back-story for Anna, but I want to have more time to reveal the plot, so I probably won't be uploading the next chapter until at least the 20th. Sorry :( Anyways, hope you enjoyed it, any comments 'please keep going!' or even 'I hate it, write better' would be appreciated, I always love feedback, even negative! :)