Last chapter, Chloe's explanation. As I said before, not an excuse, but an explanation. I wrote and rewrote this chapter over and over trying to figure out how I wanted to end this. To appease all of you, to stay true to the story, to give myself the ending I needed. This wasn't it, but the original will never be seen and I feel this was the better option. Being honest here I'm glad this is over, is was just as draining to write as it was for all of you to read.

He couldn't do this much longer, his sanity and soul wouldn't allow it despite his low-self esteem and body refusing to give it up. Her voice had rang out, filling the room and echoing back, the sound reverberating inside his head. Her chest heaved, eyes slid closed, and a wide smile appeared on her lips, her face the picture of perfection as she gasped and panted, movements never stopping. She had gotten what she wanted, as always, but this time was worse than ever before. Without warning she rolled off of him and grabbed her clothes, ignoring his wide-eyed stare. It was only when she was ready to leave a moment later she offered a quick explanation.

"I really have to get home. You can finish right?"

And with that she was gone, leaving him painfully hard and completely unsatisfied. Not that it was truly fulfilling any time they met but this was something else entirely. She hadn't hesitated at all which was the undeniable proof that she really didn't care in the slightest. Pathetic is what he felt but the worst thing is how used he felt, how broken. Sex had always been about the pleasure but now he was almost afraid of it. It hurt in so many ways that he was essentially a callboy, nothing more. His feeling didn't matter, his hurt didn't matter, his pain didn't matter.

Trying to ignore the ache in his gut from the feeling of pressure that he didn't feel like fixing he rolled onto his side but winced and rolled back to his original position when pain sparked in his shoulder. It wasn't just the emotional pain any more but physical. If he didn't know better he'd say she wanted to hurt him. A bruise surrounded by teeth marks sat at the top of his shoulder from her pushing the boundaries, wanting to see how much she could get away with and how much he would allow. He would allow all of it because he finally realized he loved her, that the reason he was allowing this was because he could finally name the feeling.

The night had started out so well, almost like it used to be before the catalyst. She had spent the evening with him, sharing drinks and joining him on the piano bench, speaking about nothing in particular, leading him into a false sense of comfort. It had been everything he wanted, just being near her, getting to make her laugh and watch her almost shy movements. This was what he wanted, to enjoy her and she him. He wanted to show that he could offer her more than just a temporary release from her everyday life. And then like all the other times something changed. One moment it was him teaching her notes on the keys and the next she had shoved him off the bench and onto the floor before mounting him and shoving her hand into his slacks to get him ready for her.

The elevator doors slid back open, the noise hitting him and he buried himself deeper under the covers, not wanting Maze to see how he had allowed a mere human to damage him so badly. A familiar scent caught his attention and his eyes snapped open to see Chloe searching for something. She smiled triumphantly when she grabbed her phone from the floor behind the nightstand and stepped back.

"Forgot this."

He had to say something. Anything. Had to save himself while there was still something left to save.

"This was the last time," he managed to get out, his voice only cracking once.

"For what? Sex?" She laughed at the absurdity of it, at his joke.

Under the covers he refused to make eye contact, needing to not look at her beautiful face that he might not see again after this. It was hard to swallow, his throat dry but he still answered, "Yes." He had expected the anger but it still hurt, still made him flinch.

"Is this because I didn't get you there?"

She didn't get it and probably never would, had no idea what she was doing. The Devil wasn't some mighty being, he wasn't immune to physical or emotional pain. He was fragile after being rejected by his father, weak after being away from Heaven for eons, broken after being used by her. But he didn't know how to say this, put it into words so he didn't. He stayed quiet and closed his eyes again, for the first time just wanting her gone. Maze was supposed to protect him from threats both noticed and unseen yet the most threatening thing of all still stood here and his demon was nowhere to be found. Despite the fact he could tell she was standing there he kept his eyes closed, trying to close himself off from the world, create a barrier between himself and this human.

"Are you ok?"

He once again snapped his worn red-rimmed eyes open because she had never asked that before and he couldn't stop the unease when she climbed onto the bed and laid on top of the covers facing him only a foot away. It was silent and his eyes moved of their own accord to meet hers. Neither spoke and he could see she almost seemed to be looking for something, searching yet he had no idea for what. He watched her raise her hand and he tensed, unsure of what was to come and stilled when she pulled the covers back a bit and traced the bite mark with her finger. Gooseflesh prickled at his skin and he watched her face curiously when her hands trailed over the redness.

"Why didn't you stop me?"

Because I love you didn't seem to be a good response, at least he didn't think so, he went with the safer reply.

"Because it's you."

It was just as good as saying it he supposed because her eyes flew to his, fearful and filled with something he couldn't identify. He had no idea what was happening or what was going to and he refused to even entertain the idea she reciprocated even a fraction of his feelings because every time she built him up she knocked him down, harder than before. The soft feeling of her hand on his cheek was so foreign that he shied away, retreating to the opposite side of the bed, as far away as he could get without leaving it and sat up.

"Hate's easier than love."

He didn't understand and his blank stare made it obvious. She looked like she wanted to move closer but refrained, instead biting her bottom lip and matching his seated position.

"It's easier to hate you, to hurt you. To not let you close. To leave before-"

A shaky exhale met his ears as he listened, holding his breath but for what he didn't know.

"To leave before I do something stupid like kiss you. Or stay. Or tell you that I cry every time I leave you because I know I'm hurting you. Tell you how much I love you. "

She was crying silently now but he moved no closer, fearful of misunderstanding what she was saying even though she had spelt it out for him.

"I tried not to, tried to go back to Dan. Tried to make you hate me, tell me to leave, but you never did."

Her tears fell to the blanket, the drops of pain ignored.

"Now you're as damaged as I am. Do you finally hate me?"

And of course the answer was no because he could never hate her. Regardless of her actions in the bedroom she made his existence brighter, made him smile and laugh and show him how amazing humans could really be. He scooted only a bit closer, a sign to the other in his bed that he was open but unwilling to go further literally and figuratively for fear of getting hurt, again. She moved closer to him, almost touching, noses only an inch apart and did what he thought would never happen. She kissed him. It was timid, shaky, and tasted like the salt from her tears but it was also comforting, honest, and the connection he had wanted since the beginning. It lasted only a second before she pulled away and licked her lips, looking unsure and asked the single question that had been on his mind every single time.

"Stay with me?"