Disclaimer: I dont own Hollyoaks or its charactors. Hiya! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. Your comments have been great and they really push me forward and help me keep writing. This chapter is kind of sad :( I'd really love to hear from you regarding what you thought of it. It's all very angsty but also full of stendany love! Enjoy! xx

Brendan

Two days came slowly, I sat at home, staring at the phone, waiting. Waiting for anything: a call, a text, a knock on the door, anything that would show he'd made a decision. I needed to know. But nothing came. Two days came and passed and nothing. I thought of going to see him but I recalled his words, 'I just need some space, okay'. I was scared, scared that he'd already left and had decided not to tell me. That would've been cruel. But so was this, making me wait. I didn't just wait two days, I waited three. I felt like I was going to explode. I even went to his house, when I was about to knock on the door, I chickened out. I suppose I was too afraid, afraid that Amy would open the door and tell me it's too late. So, I hid. I hid in the house and was content to do so until someone came and told me what had happened. The only reason I actually ever left the house was because of Cheryl. She forced me to go to the club - apparently she couldn't handle it on her own, not now she was a student. So, I dragged myself out of bed and went to work and then came home alone because Cheryl then decided to go out drinking with her uni mates. How childish. Could she not see that my world was preparing to fall apart?

So I was sitting on the couch, nursing a glass of whisky in my hand, when I heard a knock on the door. I froze. I swear that I'd never heard such an ominous sound. I almost didn't answer it.

Man up, I thought to myself, I was being a coward. So I slowly made my way towards the door. I couldn't help but feel like a man walking towards the gallows knowing very well what fate had in store. With a deep breath, I collected all my courage and bravado together and put on my best, unreadable poker face. And, of course, Stephen was the one outside.

"Can I come in?" He asked, meeting my gaze with an equally unreadable one of his own.

I stepped aside to allow him to pass, "Be my guest." I replied.

I couldn't help but notice the heat from his body as he passed, his arm just brushing my chest. Even that had my heart beating twice as fast. Some would say that I was suffering from withdrawel, Stephen was my drug and I hadn't had him in a while. I needed him. After closing the door, I turned to see him staring at the room, as if in a daze. I could almost see the memories playing in his head. This room had seen some important moments in our relationship. It had seen some disasterous moments, and some perfect ones.

"So you finally showed up." I told him acidly. I wasn't really angry, I was glad to see he was still here actually. But it was just an act to cover up my true feelings - to cover up the sheer desperation that lurked under the surface, to cover up the waves of lust and longing that were rocking my body.

"Yeah," he licked his lips nervously and I couldn't help but stare. God, where was my self control? "I'm sorry it took so long."

"Well, like you said, it's your life." I replied.

"You're angry." He noticed, studying me curiously. What, did he think I would be happy or something?

"No, Stephen. Not at all. I'm great, really great." I said, before picking up the glass of whisky from the table and taking a gulp. When he saw the alcohol, Ste rolled his eyes but otherwise stayed silent. A first for him, I suppose.

"So have you finally made up your mind?" I questioned, sounding a lot less interested than I actually was.

"I think so." He replied, looking at me warily, as if he could see that this was an act.

"You think so?" I repeated, "Make up you're mind Stephen. Stay or go. It's not really rocket science, is it?"

"Do you want me to stay?" He asked, and suddenly he was infront of me - close enough to touch. And then I could feel my mask slipping and, once again, Stephen had managed to draw me out from inside my shell, like only he could.

"It's not my desicion." I replied, my voice uneven.

"Why are you doing this?" He frowned as if I was one of the great mysteries of the universe and, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure me out.

"Doing what?"

"Pretending!" He exclaimed, "You can hide and pretend you don't care all you want but I can see straight through you. Have you forgotten that I used to be exactly the same? Have you forgotten that I know you, Brendan? You don't want me to leave. Why can't you just admit it? It's always the same with you! What are you so afraid of?"

Was I afraid? The answer was, unfortunately, yes. I'd gone and did what I'd warned myself from the begining not to do: I'd started to care. And, not only that, but he cared too! Stephen, the man I'd lied to, the man I'd threatened and beaten up, the man I'd let down time and time again. I'd messed with his mind and his realationships, I''d broken him and mended him and then broken him again; and yet, he cared. I could see it in his eyes. A little piece of him was dying inside, the part that had loved me from the start, and it was in that moment that I knew without a doubt as to what decision he'd made. This may be hurting him but it was nothing compared to what it was going to do to me.

"You. I'm afraid of you." I whispered softly. "I didn't mean for this to happen - I wasn't supposed to care about you. But I do care."

"Bren..."

"No, just let me speak. I know I'm not good with all this." I said gesturing to us both, "But that doesn't mean that I don't care. I do. And I know I've hurt you, and I know I lie and I cheat and I play games. I know I'm controling and jealous and possessive. And I know that I don't treat you right and sometimes I act as though I'm heartless. I've made alot of mistakes but I never admit to them. But if I lose you, that'll be the biggest mistake I'll ever make."

Ste

This hurt. It hurt so much. Why had I let myself get in so deep? Why him? Of all the people I could love, why did it have to be him? I hadn't chose this, no one in their right mind would choose this pain. But it hadn't been a choice. God, I just wanted it to stop. This feeling in my chest, it felt like a part of me was slowly disintergrating into dust. Every word he spoke, every second I stared at his face and another part died. At this rate, there'd be nothing left of me. Just an empty shell, a hollow reminded of what had been. That's all the future had instore for me if I let go of Brendan: a half-life full of what-ifs and relationships that will never be quite right because they'll never be with him. Was I really doing this, was I really going to let him go?

"But if Iose you, that'll be the biggest mistake I'll ever make" He told me. How cruel of him to say that. Didn't he know how much this hurt? I was shaking now, silent streams of tears were sliding down my face. Gently, Brendan reached out and wiped them away. Instead of removing his hand, he slowly caressed my lips with his thumb like he'd done many times before. God help me.

Brendan

His lips were soft and full, I noticed. I pulled him towards me but not for a kiss - I didn't want to preasure him or confuse him. This time I wanted it to be his decision and his alone, no influence from me. But I wanted him to know I was here, if he wanted me. I rested my forehead against his and looked him in his eyes. The tears that gathered there showed me how much he was suffering. I was drowning: his body heat, his hot breath on my face, the scent of his lynx deoderant, his beautiful face staring into my own. I was itching to be closer to him, to touch him, taste him; to mark every inch of that flawless skin with kisses. It was funny that we were barely touching - apart from our foreheads, the only other contact we had was my hands resting on his shoulders - and yet it felt more meaningful and more intimate than a thousand kisses or a thousand

nights spent with anyone else. Because this was Stephen and he knew me better than anyone. But that wasn't nessessarily good thing.

All my life, I'd been convinced that love was a lie, a fantasy, an illusion. Something people always talked about and thought about but it wasn't real, it didn't last. People were selfish, every last one of 'em. They would just let you down and the only way to survive was to look after yourself first. Self Preservation. What's the point of getting close to someone when they were only gonna leave?

Then, Stephen arrived in my life. At first, he was just a toy, a game, a distraction. He was attractive and I wanted him: simple. But then it got complicated. Now, I love him. That very thing that I swore to myself I wouldn't do. I promised myself I'd never fall in love, I was too smart. I wasn't the same as everyone else, I wasn't a fool. But I was. Because I went and fell in love and now Stephen was going to prove that I'd been right all along - that everyone leaves eventually and that there's no point getting attached because it'll only get you hurt. Ironically, I wanted so badly to be proved wrong - I wanted him to kiss me and say he'll never leave. I wanted him to prove that love is real, and beautiful and that it can last. It was strange to think of how much I'd changed. It was Stephen who'd changed me; no one else could've done this.

"I'm sorry." I told him and, this time, I actually meant it.

"Oh God, I'm gonna regret this."

"What?" I asked. In answer, his hands snaked around my neck and pulled my lips down to his.

Ste

God, how I'd missed him. He had become a permanent fixture in my mind; every kiss, every touch had been branded onto my soul for all eternity. I knew that it was a mistake; some distant part of me, the sane part, was screaming to run away, to hide. But, in that moment, I was finally alive again. I could do anything, be anything because Brendan was by my side.

His tounge explored my mouth, desperate to taste me, I knew the feeling. It had been a long time, too long. And I needed Brendan and, by the look of it, he needed me too. I knew if I didn't slow this down, we'd end up fucking on the floor again. So I pushed him away, my hand rested on his chest to try and maintain some sort of distance between us. He looked at me questioningly, wondering what was wrong, why I'd stopped.

I smiled and grabbed his hand in mine, pulling him towards the stairs.

We ran up, him chasing behind me, until we arrived in his bedroom. I walked into the middle of the room and turned to look at him.

Brendan was leaning against the closed door, admiring his prize, I suppose. Ever so slowly, he walked towards me, one agonizing step at a time. He stood in front of me and smirked. Gone was the uncontrolable passion of before. Don't get me wrong, it was still there - lurking beneath the surface. But now, Brendan had himself under control. He was safe now, in his bedroom. He knew that he had me so he was going to take his time. He reached out and traced a line down my face, setting my skin on fire as he did so. Gently, his finger trailed down my throat to tug on the edge of my hoodie. He smiled slyly and placed a finger on my lips, silencing my words before I had a chance to speak them. It was a game: who could last longest before caving. Brendan was very good, but I was getting better, more patient. I knew what was coming and was prepared to wait for it. I grinned and bit his finger, causing him to remove it with a playful glare. People rarely saw this side of Brendan, the gentler, fun side. The one that didn't have to hide.

But then I changed the rules. No longer did I wait, but instead, pushed him onto the bed, me following. I grinned down at him and laughed at his shocked expression before capturing his mouth with mine before he had a chance to comment. Then the fire was reignited, the passion enveloping us and taking control. Gone were all thoughts of running away or turning back. Here was Brendan Brady and, even if it was just for tonight, he was mine. In our little bubble, we were free. He sloppily undid the buttons on his shirt before yanking my top over my head within seconds. We hurridly did the same with our bottom half and, as we lay there naked, he took a second to admire my body, Smiling with statisfaction, he claimed me as his and his alone.

I woke up happy. At first, I wasn't even sure why I was happy. Then, I began to remember where I was. Brendan's. Then I remembered last night. God, it had been amazing - like coming home. I swear there wasn't a part of me he hadn't kissed. And, naturally, I returned the favour. His hand was wrapped possessivly around my waist. I looked over at him and smiled. He had always been so peaceful in his sleep, he was almost unrecognizable. A part of me wanted to stay here forever but then I remembered why I'd come here in the first place. Alex. Moving. A new start. How had I forgotten? Brendan, that's how. He had a way about him that made me forget everything until only me and him remained. Brendan Brady and Stephen Hay, in their own private world. Gently, I slid of the bed. He moaned in his sleep. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I got dressed and stared at him sleeping. This was how I wanted to remember him, content and peaceful. Because I wasn't going to see him again. I knew I was being a coward but I couldn't face Brendan again, I just couldn't. I had barely had the courage to face him before, when we'd been apart for months. I could never tell him I was leaving with the memories of last night so fresh in my mind. So I found a piece of paper in the drawer and wrote him a note.

Bren,

I'm sorry. I can't do this, it hurts too much. I'm leaving with Alex, I'll be okay. It's a new start for both of us. Look after yourself.

Ste x

Tears had gathered in my eyes but I brushed them away angrily. I had to be strong. Silently, I walked towards Brendan. I reached out and stroked his cheek before bending down.

"I love you." I whispered before kissed him gently on the lips.

Walking out of that house had been one of the hardest things I'd ever done. When outside, I looked back at the door. So many memories. That's all I had now: memories. I smiled as I remembered the good times and even smiled when I remembered the bad ones. It didn't hurt anymore, what he'd done to me. Forgive and forget. Though that was a lie. I may have forgiven Brendan but I knew in my heart that I'd never forget a single moment we'd spent together and, to be honest, I didn't want to. I turned away, knowing that was going to be the last time I saw him. I would survive.

I walked away from that house a different person: free, unburdened, at peace but also broken. But as I walked away from the past, ready for whatever the future threw at me, there were no tears in my eyes.

Rachey Ayy xx