AN: Here's another chappy. Sorry for the wait; real life can be a demanding little *blank* sometimes.
Enjooooy. :]

I can't believe I just did that. The whole situation was wrong, and we shouldn't have let it come this far. It took me more effort than I want to admit to leave his bedroom, and in my stupid Eric induced high I took his shirt with me. He smelled so good, and made me feel comfortable and safe. Which was stupid, because Eric and I were nothing. And we couldn't be. No.

Amelia was the wake-up call (ironic right?) that I needed. She saved me from doing something wrong and stupid –slurring out her words while crying and sobbing in the speaker- and saved me the problems I didn't need or want.

The best friend of your ex is always off limits. Getting caught being with the best friend of your ex for the whole nation to see, not to mention the other countries airing the show and the media, would cause a total frenzy. My privacy was already limited, and I didn't want it to stop excisting. Eric also had quite the reputation, and that still ticked me off. He did admit to liking me, and said he wanted to do what we just did minutes ago for a long time, but how much can one trust him? There was a sincere tone in his voice, and the actions only proved them, but Eric is a character on a real life show; he knows how to play people. It's not my goal to become another notch on his bedpost, and after the drama with Bill I wasn't looking forward to get hurt again.

When I said that we would 'forget it even happened' it felt like the right thing to say at that time, but as I was walking home it dawned on me that forgetting wasn't an option. My skin was still burning from his kisses and touches. Eric had set me on fire with the simplest of touches, while Bill would only have a tiny spark. Eric's kisses were amazing and I lost myself in them. He could make all rational thoughts disappear from my mind by just looking at me. We almost had sex. We would've had sex, if it weren't for Amelia. Did I want it to happen? Yes. Was it smart to let it happen? No, because the chance of dealing with the repercusions was too big.

The next morning I woke up in Amelia's bed. She and Tray had a fight, and it turned out that Amelia did care enough for him to feel hurt, and get really drunk and have an emotional breakdown. After crying on my shoulder for a while she passed out, her makeup smeared all over her face and the dress she was wearing wrinkled. She was still sound asleep, so I carefully slipped out from under the covers and walked into the kitchen, turning on the coffeemaker. My blackberry was lying on the countertop, indicating that I had a message. Turns out that one message were 5, and as I picked it up there was another one coming in. Nobody should have that many messages at 11 in the morning. Weary, but curious, I opened the first one and read it through. When I had finished reading it I wanted to throw my blackberry out of the window. The voicemails Sophie-Anne had left also weren't sunshine and rainbows. Since he was also in this situation I called Eric. He picked up after the second ring, groggy, but still with an ever so sexy voice.

"Miss me already?" I rolled my eyes. He didn't agree with me on the 'we can't do this' part, that much was clear from the tone in his voice. "You can keep the shirt by the way, but you have to promise to wear it for me sometime soon."
Ten seconds in converation, and I was already bright red. Mentally I braced myself to telling him, the news clearly hadn't reached him, or he was very pleased with it, but I knew that wasn't the case. Eric also had boundaries when it comes to privacy.

"We have a problem." Eric told me to explain, and immediately my mouth went running.

"There are pictures. Of us, together. Behind the club and us getting in the same car. We're not kissing, so it's not clear what we did, but they're suspecting something."

Eric sighed exasperated, cursing the media and muttering in a foreign language I didn't recognize. I scrolled down on the site that had the pictures -before calling Eric I had turned on my laptop- and observate the damage. The pictures weren't bad, it was just me and Eric, talking and getting in the same car, no pictures of us kissing or touching eachother. I was ready to dissmiss the photos and continue the day with a feeling that I had dodged the bullet. The feeling of relief disappeared when I saw those pictures. I gasped into the phone. This was one of those times you wanted to fall into a huge hole, and never come out of that black nothingess again. It was that bad.

"Sookie? What's wrong?" Eric's stern voice brought me back to reality. I wanted to speak, but my mouth was dry and my eyes were glued to the pictures on the screen. Eric wasn't pleased with my silence.

"That's it. I'm coming over. I'll be at your place in 10 minutes, don't worry Sookie." Eric said and hung up. That he sounded like he cared didn't escape me, but the fact there would be papparazzi lined up in my street, not to mention his, and he was now coming to my appartment wouldn't help killing this gossip. The gossip that was true, and confirmed by the pictures now flying around the internet. Oh God, what would Jason think when he sees them, or Gran. She would be so dissapointed in me. Jason on the other hand would want to kill Eric, like he always did when a guy showed only the slightest of interest in me. Boys at my school were scared of him, and very few of them had the balls to pursue me.

There was a loud knock on the door, followed by more. It was Eric, looking flushed and confused. His eyes were in puppy-mode, his now short blond hair tussled. The outfit he was wearing was clearly put on in seconds, a sweater and jeans, paired with black flipflops. It would be adorable, if it wasn't linked to the situation we were in now. Without any greeting, he pulled me in for a hug, pressing me against his body, calming me down with just his touch. Every doubt I had about Eric was gone in that moment, it felt so right. He came here, to support me and comfort me, without me asking. That was something Bill never did, and Bill told me he loved me. Eric hadn't, he liked me, and yet he was showing me his feelings in a way Bill was oblivious to. Maybe Eric was what I needed right now, what I wanted. We stood like that for a while, his face nuzzled in my bedhair, my faced pressed against his pecks. Now it was his phone that ruined our moment.

He cursed under his breath and picked up.

"Hey Pam."

The conversation was held in the language that he used on the phone with me, and there wasn't anything I could pick up. His body language said enough. His hand went through his hand over and over again, and the adorable confusion was now replaced with a blank stare. The conversation didn't last long, and before meeting my eyes again he added another 'fuck'. Eric had sweared more in the past minutes than me in a whole year. No, he wasn't happy.

"That explains the media..." he mentioned with a grimace. "You've already seen the pictures, I haven't. Can I see them now? Fucking pigs with their fucking cameras."

I led him to the kitchen, and he sat down on one of the barstools. His big hands made scrolling down the page hard, and my laptop looked so tiny when Eric was using it.

"Do you want coffee? I just made some." Eric nodded and thanked as he took the cup from my hands. Again our fingers brushed, again we shared a look. The tension in the room shot up again. I was leaning against the granite counter, observing Eric's movements and features. The amount of concentration he had in this moment baffled me. His eyes were fixed on the screen and he barely moved at all.

"How can they even do this? I can't believe this shit."

I walked over to stand behind him, and placed my hands on his shoulders. His body tensed up for a moment, but relaxed afterwards. We were both looking at the pictures. Me and Eric, in his bedroom, on his bed, in our underwear, in very compromising positions. There was no doubt that this was us, the quality was that good. The text that explained the photos was bullshit; I wanted to get back at Bill by sleeping with his best friend. Eric wanted to hurt Bill because Bill was seen having dinner with one of his 'ex-girlfriends'. Apparently, I was emotionally in a bad place, according to Bill who had the guts to comment on the story, and had been bugging him for a while now trying to get back together with him. Bill was 'astonished that his best friend took advantage of someone so dear to him'. That asshole.

Eric had tensed up again after reading the story, his fists were clenched together so hard his knuckles were white as snow.

"That asshole. That fucking asshole."

"Tell me about it," I rubbed up and down his upper arms trying to calm him down. It helped, and he softly leaned back again my body.

"What the hell are we going to do?" I whispered. In response Eric turned around and pulled me on his lap, my body let him. The touches we shared felt familiar and comfortable, and we both became more relaxed. I let my head rest on his shoulder, while his fingers drew patterns on my arm. This whole thing felt right, and yet it was so wrong.

"Go out with me." It wasn't a question, and his tone was serious.

"What?"

"Let me take you out. I was serious when I said I liked you, and this whole situation is shit, but I want to make it work. You and me." A small smile crept on my face. He wasn't letting it go, but maybe that was a good thing.

"You just don't give up, do you?"

"No." He deadpanned.

"I'm tired of fighting you.." I sighed out.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah."