This chapter is dedicated to my ol' writing partner KJ

The air was delicate and silent. Evey waited for him to make a move but he appeared to be considering something. His head tilted upwards over her head, distracted. She continued to wait, broiling for a moment in her own thoughts.

She was forcing him into this. He was drunk, practically. In comparison to his usual condition he was at least out of himself. She was pressuring him, but without a doubt in herself, she needed this to happen, she couldn't have stopped him if she tried. Finally he muttered:

"If you would please…?" …do the honours?

He wanted her to do this. Evey could hardly move her body at all. This wasn't her. This was him. He was asking. Before she could force herself to make a move he slid his hands behind his hair and unclasped the black straps himself. Almost by magic her hands were in the air hovering just in front of him, preparing to lift the shell off of his face. It wasn't until then that she realised just how close they were sitting. Evey could feel his warmth on her face. Skin touched against the cold porcelain and stayed there a moment. He covered her hands with his own, holding them still.

"Evey, if you would please close your eyes? For just a moment."

After a second of drunken reflex, she did so. V took a moment of breath before finally pulling away the mask. Cold air on his face. He took another. One gloved hand reached above him and slid the wig from his head. Then he opened his own eyes. As always the first thing he took in was the light. Immense and golden the sandstone room. It was always an adjustment, which was why he kept the lighting in his own quarters quite low. Looking down from the ceiling, his eyes finally fell on her face. V felt his breath catching. This was the first time, he realised, that he'd seen her without the gauze of black fabric. Her delicate arched features, her tiny form, her open curved lips.

"May I..?"

"Wait." His heart sank. V felt hot and cold chills in his chest. She was too beautiful. He couldn't do this. Her eyes on him. Disgusted.

Rejection was one pain he hadn't accustomed. From her it wouldn't be survivable. V couldn't even imagine…

…Her eyes were already open.

To V, the fragile oxygen crumbled into the silence. There was no air here. No heat. No light. Everything was gone. It was just those two, in a spaceless space. Words couldn't exist here, he thought. He needed to leave. He would do anything to bring back the hot black gauze. To bring back the few moments that had alluded him.

"V?"

V couldn't even bring himself to move and inch.

An inch..?

This was his inch. Dangling in front of him. About to be taken away. Before him was the frayed end of his rope.

"V..?"

He could see it now, so clearly. Astonished at his blindness only a moment ago from something so obvious. Dread surged in him, this was possibly the greatest mistake he'd ever made.

"V... can I see your eyes?"

I've closed them.

Why?

Evey found herself uncertain of where to look. She felt absolutely, wonderfully out of touch with everything else right now. Everything but him. This was his face. His secret treasure, shared with her and only her. She felt so humbled suddenly at that idea.

His skin was that same ridiculous specked shade of pink and rose that hers was but smoothed much more in patches. Contorted and glossed in the light. V was dipped and stretched endlessly. There as no patch not worth seeing. He was amazing, she realised. Beautiful even, in the most abstract of ways. Yet he refused to meet her eyes. This moment was precious, and she was wasting its seconds. She blurted his name out again nervously, if only to pick at the tension. It was doing her no justice. He wasn't moving a muscle.

"V, please?"

He'd gone this far, V considered, Why not go another step? You're at the edge, the only dignified way to go is to leap..? He lifted his chin as if to meet her eyes again but turned his head away. To her, he looked so ashamed. The wrinkles around his eyes contorted.

Heat under his chin. Strokes of tiny fingers.

Like fire.

She was touching him.

V quickly caught her hand in his own and held it away. He valued the impulse and hated himself for it all at once. Twitches around his eyes.

"I am an idea. Not a face." He said. His voice, she thought, coming from this face. The two seemed so distant. Evey felt strangely entranced in he feel of his skin on hers. Rock on rock. Sandpaper on sandpaper. Slowly, he started to move as if to stand and leave. Evey caught his cheek with her other hand.

"You could be both."

"That's not possible." He turned towards the door.

"Please don't go." The hand that held hers released and moved for the mask. Her now free hand cupped his other cheek. "V please?" It wasn't until she said it that Evey realised just how close she was to him. A few tiny inches held them apart. V felt her breath against his lips. Finally his eyes cracked open.

Hazel met into Blue.

Blue into Hazel.

The two sat locked. Lost. V felt fantastically out of himself. His heart was on fire. His mind was blank. Evey knew he wasn't going anywhere. He could still feel her breath on his skin, drawing his eyes down to her lips. Despite their stretched pocked nature, to him they retained their full beauty. She would always be beautiful. Inside and out. He caught himself staring and looked back up into her eyes. They seemed sadder somehow.

A shaking thumb pressed against his own lips.

An inebriated thought came into Evey's mind. Without any restriction, she acted upon it.

Her breath heaved slightly. Louder than before. She leaned in close, closing the gap between them. The man could hardly breathe at all. A centimetre was all that remained. Evey's eyes fluttered shut. Panicking, V's mind instinctively ran over things to say to break the connection. Nothing came up.

It was too late anyway.

Her lips met against his and he was drowned completely out of his depth. Any inhibitions he had evaporated. She pulled him close. Leaned to press herself fully against his chest. One arm snaked around her back and the other at her waist. As he shifted, she moved his top lip between hers and pulled him closer. V held her tighter, heat blistering between them. Almost by instinct, she grabbed a hand full of his tunic. The mans heart hammered.A moan escaped her lips against his, the sound reached into him and crushed him from the inside. It was spiritual, this moment and he endeavoured to sink as deep into it as he could. Slowly, he dipped her back onto the bed, supporting her back with his hands as she held his face to hers.

Her fingers smoothed over his skin, exploring his heat. It was such a strange friction. Rough yet not distracting. Soothing in its own way. Evey pulled away a moment to breath.

It was heaven, this feeling, this movement. V was amazed at how well he was containing himself. The unmasked man poured over her long swan neck as it faded in and out of vision. Glasses of champagne. Just two. Since the beginning of the year he had abstained from touching rum. This was too much. He was in too far. He breath sagging, V looked up into the eyes of Evey. They were closed…

By the time they were open again he was gone, mask in hand, out into the darkness of the gallery.