"I—I don't have my phone!" Olivia pats her clothing and the space around her, "We have to go back for it!"

"We can't go back," Elliot glances at her through the rearview mirror again.

"We have to, I need to call my mother. She's probably worried sick because I never called her back," she pleads.

"Okay, look." He's careful not to tell her to calm down. "You can use my phone."

He lifts the device from the center console and reaches toward the back seat but she nudges his hand away.

"No, it has to be my phone. She'll have too many questions and she won't stop until she finds out whose number I'm calling from. Then she'll want to meet you and it'll turn into a whole thing."

"Okay, I've got you." He didn't have to ask what her mom's deal was, remembering how Olivia had described her before. "How about you call from your roommate's phone when you get back and then we'll get you a new one tomorrow?"

She drops her head back onto the headrest, letting the feeling of despair slowly swallow her whole from the feet up. It tightens as it crawls up her body, coiling like a boa constrictor crushing its prey, and when its creeps up around her throat she suddenly remembers the white box sitting in the top drawer of her desk. The pressure releases and she's relieved to have an alternative that will save her.

"Actually, I've still got that phone you gave me."

"You've been walking around with a broken phone this entire time?"

One side of her mouth quirks up into an apologetic smile, her head tilts to the side.

"Never mind," he shakes his head as he looks back at the road ahead. "That's good. You can sync all of your information to that one and your number will stay the same."


When they get to her building, he insists on escorting her up while Fin waits in the car, giving Phoebe a very vague update over the phone. From the last that Olivia hears, his girlfriend doesn't ask many questions. She wonders if Phoebe knows of the dark lifestyle that her boyfriend lives when she's not around.

Elliot can see that she's still visibly shaken, but when they're standing shoulder to shoulder in the elevator, she's got tunnel vision. She's going over the steps in her head, how she'll respond to Dana's inevitable questioning, how long it will take to set up her new phone and call her mother. It makes her think of that morning when she opened her bedroom door to the box sitting at her feet.

"I never did get to ask you," she looks over and up at him, "how did you know where my room was? When you left the phone at my door."

"I didn't," he looks her dead in the eyes. "I found the RA on duty and asked if she knew you, left it with her."

She hums in response, stepping onto her floor when the door slides open. He follows silently, footsteps almost nonexistent behind her. She stops just outside of the door with the laminated paper Hibiscus flowers scattered from top to bottom, her and Dana's names written glossily across the two closest to the center.

"This is me," she turns to him, thumb jerking in the direction of the door.

She thinks that she should thank him for potentially saving her life, again, but she can't bring herself to say the words. Resentment is still so fresh within her for him and his shadow life for what it's brought into hers. As if he can read her mind, he saves her from the anguish.

"I'll check in as soon as I can. Call me if you need anything and call me if you need to leave campus." He sees the irritation and defiance shutter in her eyes at his regulation. "Please?"

She looks down at her feet, shaking her head. "Fine."

"I gotta go," but he stands there as if he doesn't want to leave. "So… good night, I guess."

"Night."

She watches as he shoves his hands into the singular pocket of his hoodie and turns to head for the stairs instead of the elevator, only pushing her door open when he's out of sight.

On the other side, Dana jumps up from her desk with her cell still plastered to her ear.

"Forget it, she's here. She's okay," then she ends the call. "Olivia where have you been?! I've been calling you for hours, your mom even called and I had to lie to her."

She pulls Olivia in for a tight hug, squeezing her with the force of a bear.

"I was so afraid, Liv." She leans back at arm's length to look her over. "What happened?"

Suddenly, she feels washed ashore, finally safe from nearly drowning in choppy waters, though still nauseous from the struggle. Her eyes flood with the tears she's been fighting to hold in for the last few hours.

"Oh no, honey. Tell me what you need."

She didn't know what she needed in this moment or if she could even tell Dana about the ordeal she'd been through tonight.

"I just need a moment," she whispers.

"Okay," Dana leads her to sit on the edge of her bed, gently brushing the hair out of her face. As always, she is the definition of a perfect friend. She sits with Olivia, silently comforting her until she's ready to speak again.

"Dana, I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

She looks at Olivia with fire in her eyes, "Liv if someone hurt you, I will kill them."

She blanches at the mention of killing, visions of the multiple dead bodies she'd seen tonight flashing before her mind's eye.

"Please Dana, I need you to promise."

Reluctantly, she promises, then listens as Liv recounts everything that happened after she left work earlier in the day. She still doesn't give the explicit details of her relationship with Dean, glazes over the incriminating confession that Elliot had given her, only tells her of the abduction and how Elliot had come for her.

"You asked him questions about his family and how he could afford his car. Well, I think I know now."

There was still so much that she didn't know, so much that she couldn't tell her best friend about, but for tonight this would suffice.

"Liv, don't you think we should call the police or something? Maybe talk to the RA about this?"

"No, absolutely not."

"You just witnessed several murders, not to mention you were the victim of a crime."

"I'm not a victim."

"You know what I mean."

Olivia stands, moving to her wardrobe to retrieve her shower necessities.

"Right now, I just need to wash this day away and get some rest." She snaps, "Is that okay with you?"

"Livie… I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make sure that you're okay."

"No," her fingers rub circles at the center of her forehead. "I'm sorry Dana. I just—the RA, cops, they're all off limits for now. I can't risk digging a deeper hole for myself."

"I get it, I do. I just wish I knew how to help you."

"Honestly, Dana. I just need you to be here for me, that's all."

Her best friend walks over to her, setting her chin on her shoulder as she envelopes her in another hug.

"Then that's what I'll do."


"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." Again. "My last confession was three weeks ago."

Elliot unclasps his hands, keeping his eyes forward on the deep purple curtain that separates the confessional booth from the open nave.

"This week has been…" he searches for the appropriate word to cover the events of the most previous days. "Strenuous, to say the least."

The priest is silent on the other side of the wall, waiting for the young man to continue.

"There's someone new, a girl from school, who has somehow been dropped into my life. Everything has been happening so quickly and I – I feel so guilty for what she's seen in such a short span of time. I think it would be better, safer for her if I left her alone, but I just… to be honest I just don't want to."

He casts his eyes down to his feet, feeling the heaviness of shame in the pit of his stomach.

"She's not used to the life that I live and I know that if I don't remove myself from her, things will only get worse. But all of a sudden, I only wanna be near her. I wanna protect her."

"I see," says the priest. "And is that the extent of what brings you here today, my son?"

"Oh, that's not even scratching the surface." He sighs, "She, uh… she was abducted last night and it was because of me. Because I'm not strong enough to set my feelings aside and do what's expected of me."

"Is she…?"

"She's fine now, but obviously traumatized. The whole situation was a mess and now I think she sees me as some kind of monster, but I can't really blame her, can I? The things that she saw last night were horrific. She knows that I've… taken life. Once, since my last confession."

"Corinthians 10:13, 'No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it'. Though you may be confused, feeling guilt, and even afraid of what is to come, know that the Lord does not give you more than you can handle. He does not put obstacles in your path or want in your heart that you cannot manage."

"It's just so hard to see the point sometimes."

"I understand, but in those moments of doubt and confusion, I implore you to trust in him. To call upon him and seek guidance with undying faith in your heart. He will surely steer you."

"And what should I do about her?"

"Well, you've expressed a longing in your heart for this young woman and a desire to protect her. I would suggest a sacrifice."

Elliot's brows knit together in confusion and fear begins to creep upon him at what the priest might say.

"For a time, sacrifice your immediate desires to ensure her safety. Do not put yourself before her needs. If after so long you cannot bear her absence, then know that it is not what God has in store for you and seek her once more."

"Okay," he whispers.

"Is there anything else that I may help with today?"

"No, Father. For these and all my sins, I am truly sorry."

"Your penance shall be an apology to the young woman who you have endangered. Then give her the courtesy of safety by distancing yourself. Lastly, I suggest that you fight any urge to take justice into your own hands. Seek alternative measures. Do what is necessary and no more. Now, please pray an act of contrition."

Elliot breathes deeply, hands sliding down his legs to squeeze his knees before doing as instructed.

"Amen," he says when he is done.

"The Lord has freed you from your sins. Go in peace."

"Thanks be to God," he stands, pushing the curtain aside to leave.

On his walk to an empty pew, he still has this nagging feeling deep in his belly. He'd meant to come here today and confess to torturing, killing, and burning another man's body. But instead, she was the only thing on his mind. It was no fault of her own, but Olivia was dangerous. She'd been in his life for less than two weeks and he was starting to feel like he couldn't see a future without her.

He fully intended to follow the penance that Father Mason had given him, but not before tying up some loose ends.


He'd gone straight to class after his confession, finding a seat in the row behind Olivia when he arrived. There wasn't time to talk as class started shortly after, but he'd be sure to go to her when the lecture was finished.

Class lets out and he follows a few feet behind her down the steps. When he walks out of the building, she's talking to another classmate nearby. He begins making his way to her, but before he can take more than two steps Kathy is calling his name from the top of the stairs.

Olivia turns her head at the mention of him, finding Kathy and following her line of vision right to the man of interest. She waits with baited breath; after last night she thinks that she would die right here if he actually went to her. For what they suspected of her, Olivia couldn't think of any reason for him to talk to her, especially here.

The seconds feel like a lifetime in some matrix, watching him stare up at her with an unreadable expression. She nearly gives up hope that he could ever choose her over the blonde, then he does the unthinkable. His attention shifts back to Olivia, ignoring the rest of Kathy's calls as he walks toward the person who deserved more from him. She politely dismisses their classmate, facing Elliot as he approaches her.

"Hey," he says apprehensively. "Can I walk you to your next class?"

She tucks her hair behind her ear, eyes shifting to Kathy watching them with rage in her eyes, then back to Elliot.

"Yeah," she nods her head. "It's this way."

"I know," he smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes.

They turn their backs to Kathy, leaving her seething in the dust. He knows that she'll tell her father about this, there's no doubt in his mind, but after last night he could care less about the Murphy family. His father was now aware of their transgressions, so he no longer had to pretend with her.

"How'd everything go last night?"

"It was alright. I spoke to my mother, told her that I lost my phone." She shrugs, "She had some choice words for my 'carelessness', but I'm used to it."

"And what about your roommate? I'm sure she had some questions."

"Of course she did. But don't worry, I kept some things to myself."

He only nods, subtly checking their surroundings.

"I, uh, saw the text you sent to the group about my work. Thanks for that."

"Oh, yeah." He'd almost forgotten about the texts in the project group chat. "It was no big deal."

"Still, I appreciate it."

"No problem," his left hand covers the right, cracking his knuckles and then switching over. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about, though."

She bites her lip nervously, wondering what the next terrible situation would be. He must feel the worry radiating off of her, because he stops, placing a hand on her shoulder to squeeze and look her in the eye.

"It's nothing bad… well, nothing terrible. But I did want to let you know that one of my guys will be shadowing you until everything blows over."

"Elliot, come on."

"I know, I know. It's not what you want and I respect that, but I'm not leaving you to fend for yourself against these people. You don't know them, Olivia; they are ruthless."

"Why do I feel like I'm losing the little bit of control that I had left in my life?"

"That's the last thing I want to make you feel," he rakes his fingers through his hair. "But I feel like this is my fault, so I have a duty to make sure that you're sheltered during the storm."

She shakes her head, willing her rising tears not to fall.

"I don't know how we got here, this fucked up and in the thick of it all, but I know that it's on me. I'm sorry for that Olivia, but please, please let me make this right."

"Do I at least get to know their name and what they look like?"

"My guy Nick, from last night."

She rolls her eyes, beginning to walk again.

"That guy looks like a kid, Elliot. Wasn't he the one following me in the first place? He was right there when I was taken and he couldn't do shit about it, so why would I feel any safer with him around?"

"Last night was on me, I told him to keep his distance so there wasn't much that he could do. He was just following orders, but I won't make the same mistake twice. He's trained for this; you can trust him."


When she comes out of class, Nick is waiting for her no more than fifteen feet away, and for the next several hours he escorts her around campus. At the end of her day, when she's finished her shift at the library, she trots down the main steps but who's waiting for her is not who she expected.

"Elliot," she says confused. "What are you doing here? Did something happen?"

"Nah, nothing happened. But I need you to come with me."

She's hesitant, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

"Where are we going?"

"To see my dad."

"Can I say that I don't want to?"

"Of course, but we don't really have a choice. If I don't bring you to him, he'll find a way to see you and I'd much rather be there for the meeting."

"How did I get involved in all of this?" She sighs.

She follows him to his car and the ride to what she assumes is his father's house is nerve-wracking. She wonders what he'll be like, what he'll say. Would he blame her for some of the things that occurred or tell her to stay away from his son? And if his brother's personality were any indication, she thinks that the man in charge will be so much worse.

They pull slowly onto a street where the brownstones are pristine. The cars on the street are expensive and she feels out of place.

He turns up onto the sidewalk, slowing to a stop in a three-car garage. She didn't even know that this was possible in the city. He hops out, coming around to her side to help her out.

"I'm scared, Elliot."

"We'll be fine. Just listen when he speaks, look him in the eye, and be honest."

She takes a deep breath, tossing her bag back into the car before letting Elliot close the door.

"C'mon," he leads her to a red door, passing by two SUVs, salt and pepper.

On the other side is a small room, two black chairs with an end table next to each sit inside. There's a shoe rack next to the door that they'd just come through and he instructs her to put hers on there. She counts the ones already present, three in total. A pair of tan loafers, a long pair of black Chelsea boots, and some scuffed up oxford sneakers.

She slips her shoes off and neatly places them in the rack, wiggling her freed toes as she watches him do the same. When he's done, he turns to one of the tables, bending down to retrieve two pairs of packaged slippers from a basket underneath it.

"Here, put these on."

Her feet slide in easily and she's a little confused when Elliot performs a sequence of knocks at the door on the opposite side. He stands up straight, she hears movement on the other side, and then the door slowly pulls open.

There's a man standing there, taller than Elliot, wearing all black. He smiles quickly, greeting Elliot as he steps out of their way. She follows Elliot inside and it's like a completely different world in here. It's not simple and bare like the entry room was, in fact, it's the complete opposite. Everything looks sleek, shiny and clean; the wallpaper looks expensive, textured with swirling silver patterns.

"Hey Bill, where's my dad?"

"In his study," he turns to close and lock the door, allowing Olivia to spot what seemed to be a communication device in his ear. "Your uncle's here too."

Her arms shiver at the mention of him. Elliot must not have known that he'd be here, because he certainly hadn't mentioned it to her.

He just nods and turns, heading up the stairs. The further up they get, the dimmer the lights are. Downstairs, the lights were almost clinical and she assumes that it's because it's the main course of entry. She looks around when they reach the top; the wallpaper is the same and the furniture still looks like it costs more than anything she's ever owned.

A long red runner extends down the hallway, guiding their path to the senior Stabler's private space. On the way, they pass a living room, if it could even be called that. It didn't look like anyone did much living in there, everything was so clean and looked untouched.

Elliot keeps his head forward as he leads the way, but she chances a look deeper inside the room, only to be met by the unwavering glare of his uncle. Her head snaps forward quickly and she speeds up a bit to stay close to Elliot.

"Wait a moment," he says. Once again, he knocks on one of the double doors ahead, but this time there's no pattern to it. After a few seconds, he pushes the door open just a sliver, announcing himself to his father. "Dad, it's me. Can we come in?"

"Come on," he says sternly from inside.

Elliot turns his head, giving her a reassuring nod before pushing the door open and walking inside. He waits by the door for her to step fully in, then closes it behind them. She's unsure of what to do, stopping in the middle of the room with her fingers clasped together and her head slightly down.

"Dad," he walks up beside her. "This is Olivia. Olivia, this is my father."

"Mr. Stabler," she acknowledges him.

He doesn't really greet her, just tells her to have a seat in one of the plush chairs in front of his desk.

"I don't have much time today, so let's keep this short and sweet. I need one hundred percent honesty from you, young lady."

She nods nervously, looking over her shoulder to make sure that Elliot was still with her.

"Don't worry, he's not going anywhere."

She turns her attention back to the elder, letting out a rough breath.

"What happened last night? From start to finish, but make it quick."

She hesitates, unsure of where to begin, quickly deciding on when she clocked out of work.

"I finished my shift yesterday and listened to a voicemail that my mom left me, she was saying that a body had been found near campus. Then I ran into a friend, who also mentioned it, but they let me know that a bunch people suspected it to be a missing student from our school."

She pauses, afraid that if she said what happened next his father would become upset with her. But Elliot told her to be honest, so she would.

"I knew who the missing student was and I knew who I'd seen with him last. It was some guy from a party, he assaulted me and Elliot was there to help. So, when I heard the news, I…"

"Go on."

"I- I thought it was Elliot."

His father leans back, but she needs this to be over with so she pushes on.

"I was angry, because I felt like Elliot lied to me about not knowing where he was. So, I decided to stop by his place and ask him about it in person. I got there and I kinda went off the rails, started yelling at him and then stormed out."

"And where did you go from there?"

"Nowhere. I didn't know where to go, so I just walked."

"Got it. What next?"

"I started to calm down, wanted to go back to my dorm and I stopped for just a moment when this van pulled up beside me. It was black and the door slid open, a man and a woman jumped out grabbing at me. I fought, or at least I tried to, but the woman put a cloth over my mouth and the last thing I remembered before passing out was being pulled into the van, hearing the woman talk to the person in the driver's seat."

"What did she say?"

"She told him to call his boss."

"Mhm," he nods his head. "Now I'm assuming this is where my son comes in?"

"Yes, when I woke up, he was there."

"Okay, I think I've got a visual on that situation. I just have one more question and then you're free to go."

She nods.

"How did you get here? Involved with my son."

"To be honest, Mr. Stabler, I don't know. We have a project together for class, but outside of that I'm not sure how we got here. What I can say, though, is that he's been nothing but a gentleman, a protector. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that he's tried to keep me out of this." She looks over her shoulder once more, looking at Elliot with his head hung low. "This isn't his fault, he's a good person."

His father stands slowly, straightening his cable knit sweater.

"I need you to follow my son's instructions and allow him to shield you. I don't know where you come from, but I can assure you that it is nothing compared to this life. You seem like a nice girl, so you probably don't agree with how we do certain things. But as long as you keep your mouth shut and your head down, this family will protect you. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Good, now you're dismissed."


"That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," she says from the passenger seat. "Don't get me wrong, he's scary, but better than expected."

"Agreed," Elliot turns onto her street, but decides to circle the block.

"Where are you going?"

"Just around the back, you should go in that way. Less people."

"How did you know there was…?"

He looks over at her, silently saying that she should know better by now.

"Forget it."

She sits silently, waiting for him to park the car, but she feels like there's something she should say. After meeting his dad and seeing how scary his uncle was, she had a better understanding of his role in life. She wanted him to know that she got it, that she didn't blame him anymore.

"You know, I wanted to hate you. From the very first day that we met, I thought you were an asshole. Then when you defended me at that party, it knocked me off kilter, completely obliterated the version of you that lived in my head."

He turns the car off, looking over to her again.

"But as I found out more about you, I started to resent you… because I was confused. I couldn't figure you out and it was getting to me. I still haven't figured you out, not all of you, at least, but I think I've got an idea now. You're not a bad guy, you're just who your family needs you to be."

"This is the real me," he says stoically.

"Elliot, I've watched you with your dad and uncle, even with Fin. I can see you trying to be who they need, but that's only a fraction of what you are. You try to do good, take pain from the world, but your methods are what were given to you. Not what you've taken for yourself. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't blame you, like I did before. I had to take a step back and see that you didn't have much of a choice, like me with my mom."

He has to look away, her words hitting a deep wound inside of him. He was supposed to be the strong one in all of this, her protector. But how could she trust him to have control of the situation if he couldn't even control his emotions?

"There are things in your life that I'm not used to and I don't know if I'll ever get used to them, but I know that I like having you around."

"That's good to know, cause I like being around you."

"I am amazing, aren't I?" She jokes.

"You are something else," he laughs.

He scans the street outside of her tinted window, turning to look around his side too. He had to be sure that no one followed them back from the city. He thinks that they're in the clear, turning back to find her staring at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," she says smiling softly.

But he's transported back to the day that they almost kissed, right here in this car. He feels that same intense energy filling the space between them, the magnetic pull getting stronger and stronger as the seconds ticked by.

He fights the urge to lean in, to cup her cheek and pull her lips to his. But as he watches her eyes, sees the way that they drop to his mouth, he knows that she wants the same thing. Suddenly, he was praying that she'd make a move.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes flicking up to his once more and he sees the change in them, like a switch is flipped. She rests her elbow on the center console, leaning over to his side. He meets her halfway.

When her lips touch his, he finally understands what his mother meant when she said that there would be fireworks when he met the one. All this time, he had mistaken it for trials and tribulations, hard times that tested the strength of a union. But this, this was it. The feeling of everything he'd ever known being washed away to reveal a new beginning.

She could be his new beginning.

Her hand lands on his thigh as she deepens the kiss, parting her lips to slide her tongue against his. Immediately, he grants her entry and their tongues intertwine, fighting for dominance.

"Mmm," she's starting to retreat. Grinning against him before pulling back, but he follows her.

His hand settles against the side of her neck, bringing her back to him and she comes willingly. The kiss is hot, wet, and so fucking arousing; he can feel himself hardening in his pants. She must feel it too, the arousal, because she's leaning back again, demanding that he give her his hand.

She grabs it, using her other to undo her jeans.

"Liv," he says. "We don't have to do this."

"I want to," she pulls the zipper down then stops. "Do you?"

"I wanna do anything that makes you feel good."

"Good," she guides his hand to her exposed panties. "Touch me."

She'd been clear; this is what she wanted. So, who was he to deny her? To deny himself?

She gasps when his fingers press into her lower belly, sneaking past the cotton waistband to slide down the smooth skin. He looks up at her, making sure that he wouldn't miss the moment if she changed her mind.

"Keep going," she slides her hips forward.

His hand moves further down, coming into contact with her moist clit and she must want him to stay there because she opens her legs a little wider. With her jeans still up around her waist, he doesn't have much room to maneuver, but he can slide his fingers up and down.

He pulls his hand up as if he's removing it, then pushes back down, letting the pad of his middle finger pass over her clit again.

"Hmm," she breathes, looking down at his hand in her pants.

"Is that good?"

She nods eagerly, "Keep doing it."

He'd been with a few girls before, but those experiences were nothing like this. Before Olivia, they all wanted to please him, wanted to be what he needed because they knew what was in his future. He was usually on the receiving end of these encounters, so, he'd never done this before.

He would hang onto her every word, follow her directions because he wanted her to feel good. But he also wanted to learn, to prove to her that he was worth giving herself to.

"Tell me what else."

"Make circles around it." She gasps as his fingers quickly switch motions; it was too much too soon. "Slow down."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she groans when he adds a bit more pressure. "Just listen and we'll get there."

Her hips have started to roll slowly with his movements, adding more friction between them. He watches her facial expressions, watches as her eyes get low and her irises go dark. Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips and he could live off of this, the sight of her vulnerable and pliant under his touch.

"Okay," she grabs his wrist. "You ready?"

"Yeah," he whispers, blindly agreeing to whatever she needed.

"I want you to put a finger inside," she looks up at him through her lashes and he almost blows his load right there. "Just one. Slowly."

He keeps his eyes on her, inching his hand further down until he's cupping all of her. He uses his middle finger to wiggle his way between her lips, exploring what feels like heaven on earth. She'd felt warm before, but this was even better. She was hot and soft, coating his fingers in her wetness.

"Slide your finger down," she instructs and he obeys. "There, now push inside."

He wasn't an idiot, he knew the basics of female anatomy, but he needed this to be perfect. So, he kept his mouth shut and simply followed along. He starts to push into her, ever so slowly, because she's tight and he doesn't want this to be over so soon.

He watches as her lips part and her jaw drops. It tells him that he's doing something right and he pushes in deeper.

"Oh God, that feels good."

"D'you want another one?"

"Uh uh," both of her hands are gripping his arm now. "S'perfect."

She holds him there, grinding her hips a little harder now. Her eyes are closed and her head is tilted back, leaning against the headrest. Even as she loses control, she's so damn gorgeous to him.

"You're so fucking pretty like this."

"Yeah?"

He can feel her around him, closing in and getting tighter. He's felt this before, albeit around another part of his body, but he knows that she's close to cumming.

"I want you to feel good, Olivia. Do you feel good?"

"Yes," she whines. "I'm so close."

He does his best to push deeper inside, but his range of motion is limited. Still, it doesn't seem like that hinders her or her impending orgasm. She's pulsing harder around his finger, faster and faster until her nails are digging into his arm, her thighs clenching together.

"I'm gonna cum—fuck."

He watches her eyes squeeze tighter, her body folding in on itself, and her hips slow as she rides out the soft climax. He's in awe of the fact that even when blissed out, she can look so perfect. She finally stops moving, slumping back into the seat and he gently pulls his hand free.

The car is silent, save for her trying to regulate her breathing and he sits there contemplating what to do with the finger that's just been inside of her. Was it sick that he wanted to taste it? Place it in his mouth and savor what he already knew would be his undoing.

"Do you have napkins?"

He snaps out of his trance, looking over at her watching him.

"In the glovebox," he tips his chin toward it.

She sits up, opening it to pull a few free. He thinks that she'll use them on herself, but to his surprise, she reaches for his hand and begins to wipe his fingers clean. When she's done, she closes her jeans and pulls her shirt back down.

"Thank you," she whispers.

"I should be thanking you," he responds and it earns him a shy smile.

"Well, I should head upstairs."

"Yeah," he says awkwardly.

She lifts her bag from the floor and opens the door, pausing to quickly turn back and place one more kiss on his lips.

"See you later."

He sits there watching her disappear into the back entrance of her building, hoping that she didn't regret what transpired. Because he sure didn't; his only wish now was for it to happen again and then some.


A few days later, Nick is still acting as Olivia's guard, following her around no matter where she went. Currently, he was waiting for she and Brian to come out of the movie theater closest to campus; with all that was happening in her life, she'd become overwhelmed. So, when Brian invited her to hang out today, she jumped at the opportunity.

It's been a while since they've done this, just chilled with nothing else on their brains and it is so refreshing. As they walk out of the front doors, his arm is wrapped around her shoulder and they're laughing uncontrollably at some silly part of the movie. They're about to walk back to campus, stop by the dining hall for lunch and then she'd help him study for his exam this week.

They're halfway down the street when she spots him, Elliot, barreling across the street in their direction. He looks upset, something must've happened, so she stops and pulls Brian's arm down.

"Liv, what's up?" He asks confusedly.

She's about to tell him that it's okay, to give her a moment, but Elliot whisks into her personal space demanding to speak to her.

"I need to talk to you."

Brian doesn't like the way that he's approached and his sour mood doesn't make him look any better in his eyes.

"Woah," Brian puts an arm between them. "Liv, you know this guy?"

"How about you stay out of this?" Elliot snaps, taking a step closer to Brian.

"How about you back up?" He doesn't back down.

"Guys, stop. Elliot, what the hell are you doing here?"

But he ignores her, completely focused on the man who dared to challenge him.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, so I suggest you back off."

Olivia's heart sinks because he was right, Brian had no idea what this man was capable of. She steps in between them, pushing Elliot back as she tells Brian that it's okay.

"Just wait here Bri, it's okay."

"Who the hell does this clown think he is?"

She's pushing him further down the street, away from Brian so that she can calm him down.

"Elliot, stop it right now."

"Is this who you hang around? Fucking guy couldn't even protect you if he tried."

"You don't get to do this! My God, you're in-fucking-sufferable."

"Well, he should've stayed out of our fucking business."

"Elliot, that is my friend. Of course, he's gonna try to protect me when some guy that he doesn't know comes at us all hostile."

"I was not hostile, I-"

"Look, I have let so much of your shit slide in the past few weeks. But this? I'm not gonna deal with shit like this. You don't get to barge into my life and taint every damn part of it. Brian is my friend and I will not let you do this to him, do you understand?"

He stares blankly at her and his lack of a response pisses her off.

"Answer me!"

The emotion in her voice, the anger and frustration, it pulls him out of this selfish episode.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, what?"

"I shouldn't have come here, done this."

"You got that right."

"But with everything going on right now, I just felt uneasy when Nick told me that you were with some guy. I can't afford to let just anyone get close to you. If something were to happen, I'd-"

"You know, I was doing just fine before you came along. The least that you could do for me is trust my judgement."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm just… I guess I'm just confused."

"Confused? What is there to be confused about?"

"I mean, the other day you and I…" Saying the words out loud still felt too raw. "Now you're with this guy and I just- I guess I thought that we-"

"So… you're jealous? Is that what this is?"

"I'm not jealous."

"You certainly have no reason to be. There's nothing going on between Brian and me, Elliot."

Not anymore, at least.

"Well, maybe you should clue him in."

"Don't push it. He's just protective, a very good friend, and I appreciate that."

"Funny," he laughs. "So, it's just me that you don't want protecting you then?"

"Elliot, I meant what I said the other day. I really did. But that doesn't mean that I'll tolerate this kind of behavior from you." Her hands slip around her waist and into her back pockets. "And Brian, he's been there for me. He knows my life in a way that no one else does and I trust him. But that doesn't mean that there's anything more going on. We're just friends."

"I believe you," he sighs. "This is all just so new to me and it's overwhelming, if I'm being honest."

"It is for me too."

"This was stupid," he shakes his head.

"Yeah, it was kinda stupid." She laughs and it makes him smile.

"How about this?"

"Hm?"

"I want us to get to know each other better, outside of this madness. Why don't you let me take you out sometime?"

She can't believe she's actually going to say this, but…

"I'd like that."

"Great. I'll plan it, you just look pretty."

"Is that all I'm good for?" She jokes.

"You are so much more than that," he uncrosses his arms. "But I should get going."

"Don't do this again, Elliot."

"I'll try not to," he sighs.

She wants to touch him, let him wrap his arms around her and just feel him. But they're standing on a public sidewalk, other students milling about, Brian still eyeing them from his position down the street. So, she settles for his hand, reaching out to grasp it in hers.

"See you soon," she presses her index finger into the center of his palm.

His brows quirk at the bold, yet subtle gesture. This woman might just ruin him.


The stream of hot water soothes the muscles in his back as he faces away from it to lather his neck and chest. He'd barely gotten a moment of true rest this past week, so he's extra appreciative of the hydro therapy. His hands move further down his body and he feels less tense with every passing second, relaxed enough to let his mind wander to more pleasant things for a change.

He thinks of the amazing lunch Phoebe made earlier today; the woman could cook. It was one of the reasons why he didn't mind having her at the apartment so often. Aside from that, she was a good person; loyal, honest, and fierce as all hell. He knew that one day Fin would marry her, and if he didn't, he was an idiot.

It makes him think of Olivia, of whether she could be that girl for him. She was good too, great, in fact. It was sad, but of all the women that he ever had any interest in, she was the first one who he felt was truly genuine. She didn't give a shit about who he was, hell, she didn't even want anything to do with him in the beginning.

He chuckles at the thought.

Although he hated the circumstances of their initial bonding, he was grateful to be in her presence at all. She was intelligent and kind, a real person who'd been through real shit. So, even though she'd struggled to accept what he'd come from, he had faith that she was capable of learning, of someday understanding.

He was a guy that cared about character, not just looks, but he would look at this woman all day if he could. She was beautiful, and that special something on the inside only made her shine brighter to him. He remembers the night that he'd intended to stay home, but when Fin called him from a party telling him that she was there, he couldn't keep himself away.

She was pissed at him that night, and rightfully so, but in the back of his mind he couldn't quiet the crackling of his burning desire for her. It was the first time that he actually saw her femininity, all of it, in that cliché, physical way. At the time it felt wrong to admire that part of her, him not wanting to be another wild animal that just saw her as prey.

But now? Now that she'd let him peek inside the garden of her temple, he didn't feel that bad indulging the persistent fantasies that sometimes commanded his will.

They usually started with her voice; how it dropped an octave when she'd rip him apart. Then he'd think of her face, her eyes specifically, how he could see everything that she was feeling through them. But the thing that got him every time, every single time, was the sight of her perfect body in a state of undress. He hasn't had the pleasure of seeing her in all her glory, but the visions of her always feel so real, doing something ferocious to him.

It changes most of the time, how she's displayed, what she's doing. Sometimes she's dancing for him or showing him how she likes to be touched, taking control and riding him with those perky tits just out of his mouth's reach. He often thinks of what they'd feel like, the weight of them in his palms, her aroused nipples under the pads of his thumbs. In his fantasies, she was always in charge, taking him on her journeys to mind shattering climaxes. He longs for the day when he can have the real thing, all of it and not just a fraction or a figment of his imagination.

He wonders what it'd be like to have her here, on her knees in this shower, chocolate brown irises looking up at him with those hazel flecks glinting. His fingers wrap around his cock, gently stroking as it grows thicker in his palm. Suds creep between his splayed fingers and up his wrist, coating the hard length in his hand. He imagines her wet, his cock twitches at that and slips free, smacking against his lower belly. He takes the opportunity to caress his balls, thinking of how the water would cascade over her, dripping down every dip and curve of her body.

He grips himself again, twisting and adding more pressure when his fingers reach the head of his cock. If she were here, he'd cup the back of her head, ever so gently, stepping forward to press it against her lips. He wouldn't have to tell her to open up, she'd be eager and more than willing to flatten her tongue, run it up the underside of him. To make him shiver, tracing the lightning bolt veins that run down his length and then take him between her lips.

She'd be in control again, his hand only a supporting fixture tangled in her hair. His fist tightens, mimicking what it would feel like if she hollowed her cheeks and sucked him in deeper. Already, his knees are buckling, shoulders tilting backward just so when his hips jut forward. His hand moves faster, and in his mind, she's working double time to get him right where she wants him. But he was already there, in the palm of her hand, wrapped around her finger; anywhere that would please her.

He closes his eyes and he can feel that faint tingle in his belly; his orgasm a thunderstorm, slowly rolling in from the distance. He holds that firm grip, twisting his fist on every slip upward as the rain draws nearer. And when that tingle morphs into a smoldering white heat, he knows that he's about to be caught in the torrential downpour.

His back straightens and he guides his cock downward, his index finger and thumb creating a tight ring just under his head, strokes short and frantic. He uses his free hand to tug gently at his heavy balls, his eyes shoot open and he looks down at his pulsing cock, angry and red. The sight of it commences a debilitating explosion that nearly takes him down.

"Fuckkk," he groans.

He reaches blindly for the wall, unable to rip his eyes away from the erratic spurting of his cum. His hand knocks into something and he hears the loud thud of whatever it is falling behind him, but he's too overcome to give it a second thought.

When his orgasm begins to subside, his grip loosens and his hand slows, but his heart is still beating madly in his chest. Oxygen gradually returns to his lungs, helping him breathe easier as he slumps against the wall.

A solid knock at the door startles him back into reality, Fin on the other side asking him if he's alright.

"Yeah, man. I'm almost done," he shouts back.

"I heard a loud noise, was just checking."

He looks over to the far side of the shower, on the floor lay two teal bottles of shampoo and conditioner that Phoebe kept here.

"Knocked over a couple of bottles, s'all good."

"You got it," Fin says before walking away.

"Shit," Elliot whispers in disbelief.

He feels drained. He rarely came that hard before Olivia and he hadn't even been inside of her yet.

He moves himself back under the water, rinsing any lingering soap from his body, then reaches out to shut off the valve. He pulls the curtain back to step out onto the stone mat, lifting his towel from the fixed bar on the wall, quickly drying himself.

Once he's wrapped the towel around his waist, he reaches into the shower again to pick up the bottles, placing them back on the shelf. He opens the door and walks down the hall to his bedroom. Fin is in his own room getting ready, music flowing lightly through the slit in his door.

Elliot closes his door behind him when he reaches his room, heading to his dresser for a fresh pair of boxer briefs to pull on. He hangs his towel over the back of his desk chair as he walks to his closet, sliding the door open in search of something to wear.

He quickly finds a pair of black dress pants, pulling them off the hanger and tossing them onto his bed. He turns back around, just beginning to sift through his collection of polos when his phone pings loudly from its place on the nightstand.

He thinks that it'll be his dad or uncle demanding an ETA, but when he lifts the phone, tapping the screen awake, he can't fight his smile.

Olivia: Hey friend. How's it going?


Two hours later, he's sat at his father's side at the dinner table barely paying attention to the discussion. The texts he's been receiving from Olivia are much more interesting to him.

He balances the phone on his knee under the table, nodding his head every so often to give the illusion of his involvement. He taps the photo that she's just sent, pushing down his urge to smile when it enlarges. The small red note that he'd written for her after that first party is tucked into the corner of a picture frame, the photo itself is cut off.

Olivia: I'm surprised by how pretty your handwriting is.

He feels the burn of blush creeping up his neck and he prays that it doesn't reach his face. He'd never hear the end of this if his father or uncle clocked it. He uses a thumb to slowly type his response.

Elliot: Thanks lol

Olivia: You're not offended that I called it pretty? Most guys prefer something more masculine or neutral.

Elliot: Nah, doesn't bother me.

Olivia: I like that.

He doesn't know why, but the simple statement has his stomach doing backflips. Maybe it's the approval that's doing it for him and he only wants more.

Elliot: I'm glad you do.

He watches as the ellipsis sits at the bottom of their thread, then takes the opportunity to focus again. One of his uncle's associates is describing some location owned by another family, planning for an infiltration job within the next few weeks.

His phone vibrates.

Olivia: So what did you end up wearing?

And because she's got him wide open, the only logical response in his brain is a picture of himself, wanting her to see him. He slips the phone into his pocket and scoots his chair back.

"May I be excused?"

His father tilts his head to the side, signaling his approval, and Elliot stands quickly. Walking down the hall with an extra pep in his step, he opens the single bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He pulls his phone out, placing it on the counter beside the sink as he rights his clothing in the mirror. He had to look good for her.

He grabs the phone and takes a step back, snapping several pictures until he's satisfied with the final one. He can't think of a message to go along with it, so he settles for just the photo.

After pressing send, he nearly tosses the phone back onto the countertop; all of a sudden, he's anxious, hoping that she'll like what she sees. He leaves it, walking over to the urinal to relieve himself. He finishes quickly walking back to the sink to wash his hands and check for a response.

He dries them and reaches for the phone, quickly opening up the text thread to see three words make him want to leave this restaurant and run to her.

Olivia: You look good.

Elliot: I try lol

He opens the bathroom door with a stupid grin on his face, only to be met with his visibly displeased uncle leaning against the opposite wall. He uncrosses his arms, pushing off of the wall to come toe to toe with Elliot.

"Having fun?"

"I-"

"Save it," he says coldly. "You've been distracted all night and I'm sure I know what it is. Or should I say who?"

Elliot can't even say anything, his uncle put more fear in his heart than his own father.

"If you want to prove to your father and this entire family that you deserve to take over, you need to be present. Don't let a little pussy blind you."

He spins on his heel, walking off quicker than Elliot can blink. If his uncle noticed from the far end of the table, his father had to have noticed too. His father was usually jumping down his throat about following in his footsteps, so with the pressure of the recent events, he was even more overbearing.

He needed to be on his A-game and unfortunately, that meant no distractions for the next couple of hours. So that meant no Olivia.

He opens his phone to the text thread still open. She hasn't responded yet, but this warranted a double text on his part.

Elliot: Hey, I gotta go. I'll give you a call when I get home.

He thinks that was probably too presumptuous.

Elliot: If that's okay with you.

He doesn't have time to wait for her response, quickly shutting his phone off and shoving it in his pocket before returning to the dinner table.


A few hours later, they're back at the apartment and he's finally slipping into bed, immediately unlocking his phone to check their text thread. Relief and excitement flood him when he sees her response, a simple yet promising yes.

It's late, but he gives it a try anyway, quickly tapping her contact and praying that she was still awake. She answers on the fourth ring.

"Hello," she says in a breathy voice and he knows that she's in bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," she says quickly. "I was just… laying here."

She couldn't possibly tell him that she'd been knuckle deep inside of herself, trying and failing to recreate the feeling of his fingers stretching her. If only she could bare herself to him, tell him to get over here now, but that wasn't them yet. Plus, she'd already pushed the envelope by initiating what happened in the car. She didn't want him thinking that she was so easy.

"You sure? Cause we can talk tomorrow."

"I'm sure. How was dinner?"

"Dinner was dinner, business as usual. But I'm more interested in how your night was."

"Was okay," she says softly. "Dana decided to spend the night with her new friend."

"Good for her," he chuckles.

"Yeah," she agrees and he can hear the hint of sadness in her voice.

"Would've been nice if I could've taken you out tonight, but you know how it is right now."

"No worries. I entertained myself."

"Doing what?"

She blushes at the way he asks, voice all deep and gravelly.

"Let's see; I read a little, watched one of those survival reality shows while I painted my nails, worked on the project…" Fingered myself into exhaustion thinking of you.

"Okay, that doesn't sound so bad."

"Did your dad make a decision about Kathy and her father?"

She catches him off guard, he'd left all thoughts of them at the door when he got home. For most of the night, she was the only thing on his mind, so they remained an afterthought. The hairs on his arms stand at attention as he's reminded of his father's words tonight.

The Murphy family, under their head's lead, has disrespected us for the last time. Tonight, I declare war.

"He did, but I don't want you to concern yourself with that."

"Elliot, please. If I'm in gonna be stuck in the middle of this, I should at least know what's happening."

She was right, he just hated to drag her deeper into the underworld with him. In some sick way, she was his Persephone; pulled unwillingly into the dark and held captive. He'd fed her the pomegranate of his fondness and now it seemed that she was bound.

"All I can say right now is that he's not happy and we are no longer working with that family. I'll tell you more when I see you in person, but let's drop it for now."

"I'll be sure to remind you if you happen to forget."

"I don't doubt that."

The line goes quiet on either end, both of them listening to the relaxed breathing of the other. In such a short amount of time, they've come so far, and yet he felt as though they were still strangers in a sense. A level of trust had been built between the two, but he didn't even know the simplest things about her.

"What's your favorite color?"

"What?" She giggles in that cute little sleepy voice and he feels like his world brightens just a little at this unlocked reaction from her.

"I know, I know. But to be fair, we never really got a chance to ask these silly little questions. So, I wanna know."

"Hm, that's cute. My favorite color is red."

He makes a mental note of that.

"Now I get to ask you a silly question."

"Go for it."

"Do you believe in aliens?"

"Oh, that's not what I was expecting."

"Gotta keep you on your toes."

She closes her eyes, listening to the low rumble of his voice as he answers.

"I guess I do. I doubt that we'd be the only planet with intelligent life in this universe. Earth is already so diverse, I'm sure that there's much more out there."

She's silent on the other end and he knows that she's falling asleep.

"Liv," he says softly.

"Mm?"

"Let's call it a night, okay?"

"Kay, g'night El."

"Night, gorgeous."

She's too tired to react to that, too tired to even hang up. He disconnects and she drops her phone next to her pillow, rolling onto her side just before being taken by slumber.


She looks around frantically, searching for him in the blinding white light, ears still ringing from the loud bang of the gunshot.

"Elliot?! Elliot, where are you?!"

"Liv," she hears him call in the distance.

"You're so far away Elliot," she cries. "Are you okay?"

"Liv, I need you. Don't leave me."

"But I can't find you. Where are you?"

He continues to call out to her, begging her not to leave, as if she ever would. She begins to walk, following the sound of his voice and it feels like an eternity, until she finally spots him.

She runs to his weak form, splayed on the ground with a hand clutching his chest. There's so much blood; it covers his fingers and part of the floor beneath him, the stain on his white shirt spreading as the crimson liquid dyes every fiber of the fabric.

She drops to her knees, moving the hand that had begun to slip away to apply firm pressure.

"No, no, no!"

His hand drops to the floor beside him, his eyes slowly slipping shut.

"No, Elliot! Wake up! You have to wake up!"

Her head swivels around, but there's no one around to help.

"Elliot, please. You can't do this to me. Wake up!"

She gasps, jolting out of her sleep with her hand clutched to her chest. Her heart is racing and her too large t-shirt sticks to her sweat dampened skin. She'd never been much of a dreamer, but these last few weeks seem to have awoken some dormant part of her subconscious.

Some of them were miscellaneous, dreams triggered by memories of days past. But others, others like this one, they had begun to scare her. Most of them featured him and somehow, they kept coming full circle in her waking life.

This was one that she didn't want to come around again.

She's thought of telling him about them, but how could she do so without sounding like a complete maniac? She didn't even believe in seeing the future or whatever this seemed to be, she was sure that he didn't either.

On the flip side, she didn't think that she could live with herself if something were to happen to him and she didn't warn him. She just had to figure out how.

She'd be seeing him later this evening, it gave her enough time to figure it out.


Elliot holds his arm out to her, letting her latch onto him as they left the restaurant. He'd picked her up a few hours ago, the world around him halting when he caught sight of her in a flowing black dress, the neckline squared and showing off her plump breasts. He wondered what he'd done for God to bless him with a woman so divine.

Valet pulls up with his car and he helps her into the passenger seat, tipping the man handsomely as he places the keys in his hand. He slips into the car beside her then drives out of the lot, heading toward the Queensboro bridge to go back to Manhattan.

"Thank you for dinner, Elliot."

"Anytime," he says. "Hopefully, this means you'll let me take you out more often."

"We'll see," she smiles, pulling the sun visor down to utilize the mirror.

"I'll just keep asking," he chuckles.

She closes the sun visor as he comes to a stop at a red light, leaning back and tilting her head to watch him.

"Do you have dreams Elliot? Not like your goals, but actual dreams."

He takes the moment to look at her, longing to see her beautiful face as he answered the odd question. She seemed to ask a lot of those. Something behind her catches his attention though, a red sedan pulling up beside them, slowly rolling the front and back windows down.

He doesn't have a good feeling about this.

"Olivia, lean your seat back."

"Are you trying to get handsy with me again?" She asks lifting her brows.

Before he can say another word, he sees the guns being drawn in their direction and just as quickly, the sound of rounds being released bombards them.

"Fuck! Get down!"

His right hand pushes her down as his foot floors the gas pedal, peeling through the red light. He turns off of the avenue as soon as he reaches the next block, then turns again in the opposite direction. He couldn't take her back to campus now, they would have to go somewhere that he knew she'd be protected.

"Just stay down, Liv. I'm taking you to my dad's safe house."

"Who was that?!"

"I can't be sure right now, but I have an idea. Just let me get you inside and we'll figure this out."

Aside from making sure that he got her to the safe house in one piece, all he can think about is how stupid it was for him to take her out tonight with no guards. He wanted it to be intimate, just the two of them, but he knows now that it was the wrong move.

He was furious. They'd come after Olivia once, but this attempt on her life and his has sealed their fate. There was no turning back now. He would have to do whatever it took to stop this.


Olivia hits send on the text to Dana letting her know that she's staying over at Elliot's tonight and within seconds, she receives a response.

Dana: Date went that well?

Dana: Be safe, have fun, and tell me all about it when you get home. Xo

She locks the phone and places it on the end table when Elliot comes into the room, gun in one hand and the clip in the other.

"What are you doing with that?"

"Here," he flips it, placing the handle out for her to grab. "This is yours now."

"What the hell am I gonna do with a gun, Elliot!?"

"Learn how to use it first, then protect yourself, if necessary."

"No way. I can't—this is too much."

"It's either this or I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"This isn't right. It's not fair."

"I know it's not and I'm sorry, but this situation is about to get worse than what it's already been. You're a target now. I need to know that you can protect yourself when I'm not around."

"What about one of your guys? Can't they just stay with me like before?"

"They will," he uses his free hand to place hers around the handle of the gun. "But I'm not just passing you off to one of them. They are only one layer of protection, do you understand?"

"This is too much, Elliot."

Her eyes well with tears as she lays the weapon down beside her on the cushion. He sighs, resting his hands on her knees as he crouches down in front of her.

"This is fucking shitty, I know that. God, I wish I could've shielded you from it all. But we're here now, we're in this and I need—I need you to trust me, okay?"

Her tears begin to fall, she tucks her hands underneath her thighs and he gives her a reassuring squeeze.

"I know that you're scared, Olivia. And to be honest, I am too. Every damn day I am because I never know what twisted thing is just around the corner. But when I was a kid, my father started taking me out on these runs with him—wanted to show me what it meant to be his son and I hated it. My mother knew and she would try to comfort me by telling me that life sucked, plain and simple. But that we all have a purpose on this Earth and no matter what road we're tossed down, it's necessary to take the reins of your chariot and learn how to navigate. Otherwise, you'll just keep being dragged along."

She dabs at her face, drying her tears with the back of her hand.

"And can I tell you something? It's probably gonna sound crazy, but it's my truth."

"What?" She whispers.

"From the moment that I met you, I could feel this thing between us. I didn't know what it was or why it weighed so heavily on me. But with the things that we've already been through in such a short span of time, I know that I was supposed to meet you."

She looks up at the ceiling, willing these fresh tears not to fall down with her guard. Because truth be told, she'd been feeling the same way.

"I won't lie and say that I've got this all figured out or that I know where this is headed. But your presence has already lit up a dark space inside of me and I can't explain it, but I know that your purpose is bigger. So please, take the reins and learn to navigate?"

He picks the weapon up again, placing it in her hand and this time she doesn't fight it.

"The world needs you."

I think I need you.