Liz had sat there at her kitchen counter for almost an hour, turning those two rings which had been at her ring finger in her hands until she eventually had made the decision to take them and put them in a box in the hallway before she left. She had found out his address months ago, lying to herself about the reason why, coming up with strange excuses that one should know such things about one's partner, but deep inside she had needed to know, just in case. And now it was that case.
While driving Liz tried to distract her mind from imagining and rather trying to figure out what made her start thinking about him in the first place. She couldn't even tell when it started, until Red's remarks. First towards Ressler which she wiped away as Red's usual torment, but then he started asking those questions and these annoying questions stayed in her head, circling in her mind like flies around a cadaver because there still was Tom.
It was ridiculous how similar they were - Ressler and her- just in different fields. Both going by the book: he in their job, she in her personal life. It was irony that she thought his behavior was wrong and hers right.
Liz squinted as an oncoming car's headlight almost blinded her, and disintegrated her strain of thought on which she had clung, hoping that when she had reached the end she would turn around. And now it was either that, or continuing. Her lips formed a thin line. She had made that decision already. There was no way of backing out.
Then she had imagined and had gone with it. How she would go there, knock at that door, watch him open it. She had seen his surprise on his face, how his reddish hair was slightly messy, the way they rarely would see at work, the way she liked it most, especially when imagining that it was the result of her hands. Liz had imagined that she would simply had grabbed him by his shirt and kiss him and leave him no other chance than to follow her lead. She had lined it all out, all the way to his apartment. And how this tension, this heat would finally turn into thin air and vanish and that they could move on.
It didn't happen. And now in that very moment as he turned around to her, after telling her for the second time that he was fine when she knew that he was hurting, he was so close, much too close and Liz could see right through the cracks of his unbreakable wall, his mask of stone, Because the moment of reaction, the moment everyone would have backed off, passed. He just looked at her, being just the opposite of stern, focused and rational.
Liz never would have expected from herself that she would freeze on this opportunity, and that she would hesitate. It was simply the way he looked at her. That gaze which explained absolutely everything that seemed to translate all the other glances and looks she never really had noticed.
"Let me take a look", Donald's deep, rough voice made her snap out of her thoughts and she could feel how her cheeks started burning of embarrassment and she scolded herself silently.
He had turned away and opened the fridge, hiding his face behind the door and Liz knew that it was exactly what he was attempting. She might not have been able to read him for a long time, but the more she had learned about herself, the more she seemed to get him and maybe that was the reason why she was drawn to him. Liz had to admit it.
"Maybe one beer", she suggested and slowly stepped towards him, watching how his shoulders tensed and she could imagine that typical frown that curled his brows and crinkled his forehead.
Even though hidden by that door she would see how this expression was accompanied with confusion, and how she would have been able to watch him ponder if it wasn't for that cover.
"You're sure?" he moved, already grabbing that bottle and looked at her with that exact composition on his face she was already expecting.
He turned towards her in surprise and bewilderment as he noticed that she was smirking and had caught up to him, and because a part of him realized that she might not have meant the beer with that. There was somewhat relief and a glint of disappointment when Liz reached out her hand adding a "Gimme that", with that radiant smile of hers, which was why he probably didn't expect her to continue stepping towards him, placing the bottle he just had given her right next to his. Not that Donald was able to move in that moment.
Her hand touched his shoulder just a breath take before she pressed her lips against his, gentle but determined to steal the air from his lungs and the thoughts from his mind. His always to strict and grim lips were so much softer than they looked like. He tasted of beer and something else: salty and yet sweet and terribly addicting. This kiss followed a second, one with his hands in her hair, framing her face, pulling her towards him, like there was no mind left. She left herself melt against him carefully and still relentlessly, being surprised by him moving her around to press her against that fridge, like he couldn't have her any closer.
