A/N: I mean I should probably be studying for my last final but the only way i've been able to keep my sanity is by writing after every exam so this is why you have this chapter now.

Chapter 5- F.W.B.

I don't even have time to consider changing my mind about all this because the next thing I know, Killian's mouth is attached to my neck and I can't help but let out a moan. God, I love it when he does that. I love that I can feel every single one of my pores alight with fire, every single one of the hairs on my skin standing on edge. Out of the corner of my eye I see the partition roll up behind the driver, giving us our privacy. Meanwhile, Killian has been busy tracing kisses along my jaw as his hand presses against my core, adding pressure where I need it most.

"Fuck, I want you, Swan." He murmurs against my ear before he turns my head towards him and kisses me full on the lips. I want him too. I want more than the pressure he's adding against me, I want more than his hand fisted in my hair, and more than his lips moving perfectly against mine. "I've wanted you since I first saw you this afternoon." He confides as his hand drops from where it was nestled inside my hair and finds the zipper on the back of my dress. He undoes it in one swift motion and pulls down the top part of my dress down to my torso.

"Get on top of me, lass." He demands with a raggedy breath, his hands caressing my legs underneath the sheer skirt as I move to straddle him.

"You're bossy." I tell him and he laughs. I like it that he's dominant and that he's telling me what to do right now. But of course, I'd never admit that to him out loud, he'd never let me see the end of it. He grins at me and with his hand on the back of my head, he pulls my head towards his and kisses me again, moaning against my lips as I move my core against the unmistakable erection that's straining against his pants. He drops his head against the headrest, a string of curses leaving his mouth as I keep grinding on top of him.

"Are you okay?" I ask, unable to keep the smirk off of my face.

"Aye, you bloody minx. I am, but just barely." He says before pulling himself back up to me and attaching his lips against my collarbone and dropping kisses all along my chest. God, this feels so good—and yes—a million times better than my dream.

"I like this." He says about my bra as he pulls a little ways back from me, both his hands cupping my breasts through the fabric. He grins as I moan when he lightly thumbs his finger over my nipple against the fabric. "You like that, don't you Swan?" I nod, not able to say anything due to him dragging his tongue on my skin along the edge of the fabric. The anticipation is driving me crazy and I'm about to tell him just that, but he must have sensed that I was getting fed up with him teasing me because I feel his tongue finally swirl around my nipple before he nips lightly on it, making me moan rather loudly.

"If he didn't already know what we were up to, he definitely does now." He laughs against my skin.

"Are you going to fuck me or not, Killian?" I ask exasperatedly, grinding my core against his hard on if only to release some of the tension my body is feeling.

"Are you getting restless, Swan?" He asks, his breath hot against my skin as he drags his lips against it.

"I'm just wondering if you're going to go through with it, since you seem to be having more fun by teasing me." I say while tugging on his hair, pulling his head back so his gaze meets mine.

"Maybe I just like riling you up." He says and his grin is borderline wicked as I suddenly feel his fingers slip inside of my folds, making me momentarily lose my train of thought. God, that feels good. "Not so tough now, are you Swan?" He murmurs as his fingers slide out of me. I almost protest at the withdrawal but he rapidly thrusts them back into me, settling into a rhythm that's sure to drive me insane. I bite my lip just to refrain from moaning loudly, his every thrust undoing me further. My head is nestled tightly into the crook of his neck, my mouth alternating between breathing heavily and leaving a mark on the base of his neck. I can feel the orgasm build quickly inside of me, part of me embarrassed that he's making me come undone so soon and the other part of me incredibly ready to fall over the edge again. It's been so long since I was intimate with someone that it's a wonder I'm lasting as long as I am.

"Let go, love." He says hoarsely and that's all it takes. With a muffled scream I comply with his command almost instantly, the orgasm washing over me intensely. My breath comes out in sporadic bursts, as I struggle to regain my composure. I feel him laughing and I look up only to be met by his trademark smug grin.

"I knew you'd be a screamer." He says, his smug grin getting wider. I roll my eyes at him and slide off his lap and kneel on the floor in front of him.

Two can play this game, I think as the smug grin dissipates off his face into a look of sheer awe, his chest rising quickly with anticipation. I make quick work of his belt and undo his zipper, and he lifts his hips to help me in lowering his pants and boxers down to his calves. Without thinking I lick the palm of my hand and take his cock into it—relishing in the fact that my sleeping consciousness hadn't imagined the size of his member—and start gliding my hand down his length.

"Not so tough now, are you Jones?" I say echoing his earlier taunt in response to his now slack jawed look. He shakes his head, his eyes locked squarely with mine as I slowly take him into my mouth. He gives a low groan, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, which he drops onto the headrest. He threads his hand into my head as I take him deeper into my mouth, his hand fisting around my hair guiding me up and down his shaft. I hear him drop a slur of unintelligible curses out of his mouth, his breath hitching as I bob up and down his length, alternating between sucking in my cheeks and swiping my tongue around the underside of it.

"You're fucking incredible, Swan." He lets out gruffly, his accent thicker. I know he's getting close, the familiar saltiness of his pre-cum and the tightening of his balls alerting me to it. Opening my eyes, I take the sight in front of me. His eyes closed shut on the head that's tilted back on the headrest as far as it can go, his teeth biting on his lips to keep from screaming out. "I want to hear you." I say, as I pull back my mouth from his cock, grinning at the pained expression on his face due to my withdrawal.

"Swan." His voice strains out, reprimanding me for the loss of contact. I grin wider if possible before I take him in my mouth again, adding my hand into the mix, not really caring how sloppy I'm getting or how sticky it all feels. He moans my name then, grabbing on my hair tightly before letting me know that he's going to cum.

"Swan, if you don't get out now I won't be able to hold off any longer." But I keep at it, wanting to feel him inside me. I deep-throat him one more time before he lets go, his seed salty and bitter in my mouth and my name a hoarse whisper on his lips.

What happens between me wiping the saliva off my face with the back of my hand and getting out of the limo is a blur. After that all I remember is Killian telling the driver to take us straight to his apartment and spending the rest of the ride kissing each other. It could have been ten minutes later or it could have been ten hours later, but all I knew is that suddenly we were outside his building and the tension was boiling between us. The moment the elevator doors closed and the car lurched upwards towards the penthouse, his lips were on mine again, his hands reaching under my ass and lifting me up against the wall. My legs instinctively wrapped around his middle and he walked us out of the elevator, our lips still attached to one another's. Instead of reaching for his keys, he pressed me up against the wall next to his door, his hands unzipping my dress again and pulling down my bra before palming my bare breast. I was basically half naked before he opened the door and made our way inside.

"Do you want anything?" He breathes, his lips momentarily withdrawing themselves from mine. Really? Now is when he decides to be a good host?

"Yeah. I want you to give me those benefits you promised." I say, crashing my lips against his again.

We tumble into his bedroom and he all but pushes me onto the bed. He takes off my shoes, slips off my dress, unhooks the clasp of my—probably ruined—bra, tugs off my panties and throws them across the room. He stands above me, staring at my naked body—and if I wasn't completely drunk and turned on, I would've started to feel really insecure by now.

"What?" I ask him, desperate for his touch and so over his teasing.

"You're just bloody gorgeous." He says before hooking his arm around my calves and pulling me towards the edge of the bed. Before I have time to realize what he's going to do I feel his mouth against my center, his tongue lapping and fucking my already wet self. He's down there for a while, his mouth working furiously against me, making me come undone once again. Part of me thinks we're done and that I couldn't possibly take another go at it, but I hear him fumbling through the things in his drawer and the unmistakable sound of a wrapper being opened and a condom being slipped on.

"Do you still want this?" he asks genuinely, standing in front of me. He knows as well as I do that after this there's no going back. Not that there was any going back when I swallowed his cum or when he made me cum twice in the past hour, but that's nuance. Sex is all the way, it's the three bases being run with what's basically a coworker at this point.

Fuck it.

"I do." I say and that's all he needs. In one swift motion he has slid into me and is moving inside of me, filling me up with every delicious inch of his cock. He's vocal, and he alternates between telling me how amazing I feel and how tight I am, but I don't care. All I know is that what I'm feeling right now is so sinfully good that it's probably enough for me to black out at any second. I honestly don't remember how long it lasts before I feel the build-up again and my walls clench around his member, my orgasm making my body spasm sporadically and taking him down the edge with me.

We passed out almost immediately after that, but the moment the first ray of light started creeping in through his window, my eyes snapped open and I knew that I had to get out of his apartment as soon as possible without him noticing my absence. We might have slept together and we might want this "friends with benefits" deal going on, but I will not wake up in his arms. Friends, don't do that.

I start tiptoeing around the room, trying aimlessly to find wherever he threw my clothes mere hours ago. However, even with the slight light that was seeping in through his windows, it was almost futile to find every article of clothing. Part of me wondered if he had thrown them out of the window.

"Swan, get back into bed. You're not being stealthy." Killian sighs exasperatedly from the bed, his voice making me jump.

"I'm not one to cuddle, Jones. I think it's best if I go home."

"Don't be such a prat, Swan. You'll need your rest before you can walk properly again." I can almost hear his smug grin in his voice. I don't know if I want to slap it off his face or kiss it off instead. Incidentally, the fact that I want to kiss him again is precisely the reason why I need to go home.

"Swan, don't make me come get you." He says again, before pushing a button on his nightstand, making metal blinds slowly dim out the light coming in through the windows until his room is pitch-black. Now I'll never find my dress.

Asshole.

"Fine." I say, walking back towards the bed—not before hitting my shin with the corner of it, cussing loudly and making him laugh—plopping back on the mattress, and passing out again.

-/-

I don't know who composed the Marimba ringtone but I think it's my destiny to kill them.

"Swan, shut it off." Killian groans next to me. He's obviously not a morning person. I leave the bed and start making my way towards the sound of my phone. I can't see anything, much less the way to the living room.

"I'm going, Killian. Jesus." This is ridiculous, how big is this master bedroom? How can he possibly maneuver his way around this pitch-black room? My phone stops ringing for a second and I've lost the only way outside of the black maze that is Killian Jones's bedroom. I'm walking back to the bed when Marimba goes off again.

Why do I even have that ringtone?

"Emma, for god's sake silence your bloody phone!"

"I would if I could bloody see! But I'm basically re-enacting The Miracle Worker here, Killian!" I shout back angrily, having half a mind to hit him with the first thing I find, when the blinds start going back up again and bright sunlight starts seeping into the room again.

God, what time is it? I think as I finally walk out to the living room and find my phone inside my purse.

"Yes, Mags?" I say. I should've known it was Mary Margaret.

"Emma, where are you? We were supposed to meet at Nobu an hour ago." Mary Margaret's voice chastises me through the phone. I totally forgot I had to meet her today. I don't even know what time it is.

"Shit, I forgot. I overslept." I say, looking around Killian's living room for something I can wear. I don't feel completely comfortable just standing buck-naked in the middle of his apartment. I settle for a fleece blanket that's on his sectional sofa, wrapping it around my chest.

"Emma, it's three in the afternoon. Oversleeping is putting it mildly." Shit, I can't believe I slept so much and in Killian's apartment nonetheless. Are we going to have a thing? Is this going to be a legitimate thing where we sneak around and fuck like rabbits? Or was he just planning on having a one-night stand?

"I know. I had a late night." And copious amounts of sex with the one guy I shouldn't have had sex with.

"How did the Lucas party go last night?" She asks me.
"It was fun." I say quietly, not that I remember most of the party anyways.

"David asks if you've heard from Killian. He's tried his cell a couple of times but he can't get a hold of him." She continues, but I barely register what she says because Killian has walked out of the bedroom completely naked and even though we had sex last night, it's as if I'm seeing him for the first time again.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret says my name and snaps me out of my reverie. I press my legs together to try and control the want that's settling between them. He cocks his eyebrows suggestively and walks towards me. I know the look on his face.

"No, I haven't." Liar.

"Are you guys going to see each other today?" She asks me and I barely register the question because Killian has brazenly tugged off the fleece blanket from my body and kneeled in front of me, settling his face between my legs again.

"I haven't talked to him yet. I don't think so, though." I say, trying my hardest to stifle a moan as his mouth works against my center again.

"You two seem to be getting along." I hear Mary Margaret tell me on the phone, but all I can focus on is the fact that Killian is sucking on my clit and fingering me right now.

He's absolutely ridiculous.

"He's not that bad." I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady as he pulls me down and fingers me deeper.

"The press seems to thing you guys make an incredible couple." She continues and I take the cushion that's next to me and bite it to keep from moaning.

"Except it's not real." I manage to say. I glare at Killian whose gleeful gaze is locked on mine.

"It could be. He's very handsome, and I think you guys would make a good team, don't you think?" Why is she still talking to me? Why does she want me with Killian anyways? She probably just wants to get closer to David Nolan, no doubt.

"Mags, are you talking to me as my friend or publicist?" I breathe, not sure how I've been able to keep on the ruse for so long. Killian is going to make me cum any second and I can't be on the phone with her when that happens.

"A bit of both. Are you okay? You sound breathless." She asks concerned.

"I'm fine. Can I call you back?" I ask quickly, failing miserably at keeping my voice calm and trying my best to keep the orgasm that's moments away at bay.

"Yeah, sure." She says and I end the phone call, throwing my phone across the sectional couch and letting Killian Jones's handiwork consume me again.

When I get home that night, my body is so sore that I'm not sure I could ever have sex again. I mean, I know I can but goddamn.

I've lost count of how many times we had sex today.

Killian Jones fucked me senseless and only one thing I know for sure, it's definitely more than a one-time thing.

-/-

January goes by fairly quickly, as quickly as it could with award shows almost every weekend and sneaking around to have sex with my fake boyfriend almost every night. Mary Margaret keeps telling me how impressed she is with my performance, the fact that Killian and I seem to be in an actual relationship blowing her away.

If only she knew that after every after party we end up in one of the other's respective homes, whichever is closest. We've even gotten past mindless sex now, we hang out like normal friends do. We've gone to bars, the movies, and parties together. The most impressive, however, is that we can hang out one-on-one without wanting to ring each other's necks in the process.

The past month has been a whirlwind, mostly because I'm starting to feel very comfortable around Killian. He knows that I was adopted now; it just slipped one night—after the Golden Globes, I think—as we were tangled in bed, my head resting against his rising chest in post-coital bliss. He said that he had figured something like that happened to me, and proceeded to tell me about his dad passing and growing up in England with Liam in their aunt's house, just off the coast.

I still haven't told him everything that happened with Neal and how I ended up in rehab, though. But he understands why I'm reserved. When I'm ready to tell him something about myself and he never pries for more information. And whether he does so purposefully or not, I'm grateful that he leaves the choice of knocking down my walls up to me, and no one else.

I'd be lying if I didn't consider Killian Jones my friend now, but I'd also be lying if I didn't enjoy his company just as much as the benefits provided. I'm not falling for him, I don't think. Yes, he's fun, caring, and quite honestly a perfect match to my wit, but I can't fathom being anything more than what we are right now with anyone, and much less with Killian Jones. Besides, he's made it perfectly clear that what we have is strictly a friendship with benefits.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Even though lately the sex has been far less reminiscent of two rabbits humping and more like two people actually being one with the other. Nor is it important that the last few times I've been at his house—or he's been at mine—all we've done is make out and binge watch Netflix together. And don't mind that right now, as I wait for him to pick me up in the limo and make our way to the Academy Awards I am a complete nervous wreck, because I don't feel anything for him. I really don't. I have no romantic inclination towards Killian Jones whatsoever, regardless of how this all may seem and look.

We're friends, nothing more than that.

Okay, we're friends who have sex, but really it's nothing more serious than that.

I smooth down the front of my champagne colored dress, feeling anxious because it seems like my breasts are going to pop out of my strapless sweetheart neckline at any moment, and I can barely breathe in this dress. But it's vintage Oscar de la Renta and I had to wear it, I had to.

Killian rings the doorbell and when I open the door I see him take a sharp intake of breath, and I honestly can't help but wonder if whatever I'm starting to feel for him, he's starting to feel for me. I shake the thoughts out of my head and give him a smile instead.

"You look dapper." I tell him, eyeing his tailored tux and approving of it even though his lapels seemed to be layered in velvet. He doesn't say much, he just smiles at me and offers me his arm, which I gladly take. Isn't he going to say anything about how I look? No, you look bloody stunning, Swan? This dress is worth, at the very least, forty thousand dollars, and he's just going to completely overlook how amazing I look in it? "You okay, there?" I ask him once he's slid in the limo and takes a seat next to me. He nods and smiles at me.

"You don't seem okay. It normally doesn't take you this long to tease me about what I chose to wear or how I'm wearing my hair."

"Your hair is perfect, Swan." He smiles at me. God, what is up with him today? He's never this quiet. In fact, he's always ready to jump into the conversation with a snarky remark or a snide comment. I'm not sure I like this quiet, stoic side of him.

"So, you hate the dress?" I ask, trying to gauge a reaction from him. Not that I care about what he thinks of my dress or anything, it's just that this would be much less awkward if we were having an actual conversation.

"No, not at all." He says absentmindedly, switching between looking out of the window and scrolling through social media on his phone.

"Kil, what is up with you? Why are you so quiet?" I ask and he rolls his eyes at the sound of my exasperated voice, a smirk finally making it's way back to his face. His undeniably attractive face. Not that that means anything, of course.

"Perhaps, I can't seem to articulate a compliment that will do you justice tonight, Emma." So I do look good, then? I think as his eyes meet mine for the first time during this entire conversation and I sense the nervousness behind his voice. He looks away quickly, his hand going to scratch the back of his neck instead.

"Emma? You never call me Emma." I taunt him. If he's nervous then he probably feels the same way about me that I do about him. Not that it matters, we're friends and friends don't like each other like that.

Then again, friends don't kiss each other like we've been kissing each other and friends definitely do not have sex together multiple times a week.

God, this is a mess.

"There's a first time for everything, Emma." He emphasizes my name and not to brag, but I love the way his voice says my name. Somehow I can't stop thinking about kissing him, but that's not what we're supposed to be doing. The whole thing about this is that we're here for the benefits, to satisfy our carnal urges not to kiss in broad daylight with no alcohol to excuse those urges.

There are limits to this…thing. Whatever the hell it is.

"Like you being speechless? That's a first." I tease him and he grins at me.

"Aye, that's a first." We fall back into a much easier silence, the nervous tension from before being lifted from the air around us.

"I really hope that reporter from Royal Entertainment isn't here tonight." I say, simply to start a new conversation and have him talk to me again.

"Who, Lilith Page?" he asks and I nod.

"Yes, that one. She's been vicious towards me this awards season." His hand makes his way to my dress, where the slit of the fabric gives way to my bare thigh. His hand stills as the contact with my bare skin and I'm sure he wasn't expecting to feel that, because he swallows thickly before regaining his composure. His thumb grazes lightly against my skin, tracing light circles against it.

"Aye, she's pushy. I'll come to your rescue tonight if you need me to." He says comforting me. No one has ever said that to me.

"I'll never need you to." I say, trying to muster a tone of voice that covers my gratitude. He doesn't need to know that I find him comforting, or that I care about him in any way more than the relationship we have right now. It must have worked because he laughs and his hand leaves my thigh as he raises both his arms in mock surrender.

"Alright. I'll make sure to remember that, Swan. If she drills you tonight, you're on your own." I laugh with him, trying to rid my thoughts of how much I want his hand to be on my thigh again. We fall into an easy silence once more. I look out of the window and I notice that we've got at least ten more minutes till we get to the theater.

"The lads and I are going on tour in March." His voice interrupts my thoughts.

"I know, you've told me."

"Why don't you ever let me finish?" He teases, making me grin widely.

"I would've thought you were used to it by now." I tell him and he shakes his head at me.

"As, I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. I was just wondering if you'd like to come with us." He wants me on the road with them? Me? I know we've been having sex for the past month, but this seems entirely too serious.

"Oh, you want to keep this thing going on the road then?" I ask him, insinuating that the only reason he'd want me to go on tour with them is so he can keep whatever we have between us going. He shakes his head and gives me a rueful smile before looking at me seriously.

"Swan, surely you must know that you mean more than just a good shag to me." His blue eyes bore into my green ones, and if I wasn't completely confused as to whatever it is he feels for me, I'd say that he was trying to communicate that he wants something real with me.

But we both know that's not actually going to happen.

"I do?" I ask, and I immediately wish my voice hadn't come out so breathless and full of longing.

"Absolutely, you're a brilliant friend." See? There it is.

Friends. We are just friends.

"So, we're friends now?" I tease, trying to recover from the way my heart fell down to my stomach.

Friends, just friends.

"I would hope so."He tells me, giving me a lopsided smile.

"That's good to know then."

"So, will you join us this summer, then?" He asks hopefully, but I really don't know how good that will be for us to do. We have a decent thing going on right now, I really don't want it to get any more serious than it already is. It's already scaring the crap out of me.

"I'll think about it. I still don't know what Mags has planned for me this summer." I say hastily, wanting to shut down the topic.

"I'm not sure she'd object." He says, trying to convince me to say yes.

"I'll let you know, okay?" I answer with an air of finality. His eyes widen and I see that he understands that that's all I would say on the matter. He nods and goes back to scrolling through his phone, but I can tell that he wants to say something more to me but he just doesn't know how to articulate it.

"Are you nervous about presenting tonight?" He asks moments later.

"No." I'm nervous to be around you, though. I'm nervous about the sudden development of feelings I'm having towards you and the possibility that you're developing the same feelings for me.

We arrive at the theater moments later and as the door to the limousine opens there's a familiar deafening roar of hundreds of people chattering and trying to get the attention of the celebrities that are walking down the red carpet. I grab Killian's hand, which by now I know is extended towards me to help me out of the car. We go through the same familiar motions we've gone through for the past months, answering the same questions, consciously acting as if we're mad about each other. He gives me space to answer questions and kisses my cheek as we pose for questions. We play the role of our lives and convince everyone that we belong together, that we are the lucky ones, that we love each other.

I've lost count of how many people I've talked to already when we reach the person I was dreading the most to talk to, Lilith Page. I really don't know what her problem with me is, all I know is that every time we talk to the other she asks questions that are entirely too personal and every time I leave feeling with the urge to punch her. Killian's hand squeezes mine reassuringly as we reach her.

"You'll be fine, Swan." He whispers in my ear and I squeeze his hand back in response.

"If it isn't America's Sweethearts!" Lilith starts enthusiastically before she goes through the usual questions. Who are you wearing? How is the relationship going? Are we going to see you on the big screen soon? Killian, when is the new album coming out?

"Emma, I've got to ask. All of our viewers are curious as to how you're fairing ever since you've been out of rehab. How is it going?"

"Well, Lilith, it's only been three months since I've been out but I've never felt better. I just try to take it one day at a time and I honestly couldn't do it without Killian. He's been amazing." I say answering her and looking up at Killian afterwards, smiling at him sincerely. He's actually been really good for me, whether I want to accept it or not.

"I'm so glad to hear that you're better. Hopefully we'll get to see you in the big screen again. Tell me, what are your thoughts bout the Cassidy wedding?" The what?

"I'm sorry?"

"Royal Entertainment confirmed that indie actor Neal Cassidy—your former flame and reportedly the reason you ended up in rehab in the first place—tied the knot last weekend in Honolulu." She clarifies and I swear a whole opened up underneath my feet. Neal is married? I struggle to keep my composure but I don't even know how to begin. The world is muffled around me and I can see that she's waiting for an answer but I don't think I could answer her even if I tried. My mind is reeling and all I can think is how Neal—my Neal—is actually lost to me forever.

"Miss Page, I don't mean to be rude but how on earth could you possibly think that's a fair question to ask?" I hear Killian say next to me, clearly coming to my rescue as he promised earlier.

"It was public knowledge," she counters defensively, "Royal Entertainment just wants to hear from Emma what she thinks about the whole thing, considering that the breakup is the alleged reason she ended up in rehab in the first place."

"Public knowledge or not, it's rude. Though, Emma might be a public figure or not, that's still her private life and she doesn't owe you any explanations."

"So, you're speaking for her now?"

"No, that's not bloody well what I'm doing." He counters fervently, "But when you stealthily attack my partner with questions you bloody well know not to ask, I will defend her till the ends of the earth." He finishes and I am in complete shock and so is Lilith Page.

"It was nice talking to you." I say before, grabbing Killian's hand, turning away and moving along the red carpet. Ignoring the fact that I still have at least half a dozen more reporters and photographers to talk to, I make my way into the theater, Killian following closely behind me.

"Swan, are you alright?" he asks me concernedly as I sit down at the table that's reserved for us.

"You didn't have to do that." I tell him, my voice wavering slightly. I still can't believe that Neal is married nor can I believe that Killian just defended me like that.

"I told you I would." He says quietly, wiping off a rebel tear that had fallen down my cheek.

"No one has ever done that for me." I say quietly, not able to meet his gaze. His hand reaches towards my chin and guides it towards him, making it impossible to not look into his eyes.

"Are you alright? That's all I care about." He asks sincerely, his eyes boring into mine intensely.

"I'm just shocked, I had no idea." I nod, bringing my hand up to cover the one he has against my cheek. "Thank you." I tell him and he smiles at me.

"Anytime, Swan." He counters, kissing my temple and hugging me close to him.

A/N: Reviews let me regain the small amount of soul that I have left!