Despite her defensive stance, there was truly nothing to defend herself against. Just a man she cared about, standing in front of her, in a small, private room... Nope, there was really no way this would end well for her.

The brush of his fingers against her cheek sent a shiver down her spine, and it took everything she had to fight the impulses to pounce on him. It was not a desire to kiss him that pushed her, but rather the knowledge that doing would be the easiest path. There would be no discussion of the future, no answering questions she didn't have the answers to, and most importantly, she knew he wouldn't fight it. She knew that. She knew he knew that.

Somehow, she managed not to budge. Maybe it was the fear of what would happen next, or maybe it other reservations she couldn't pinpoint—but nevertheless, she stood frozen, watching his every move like a hawk. "I... I don't know what you want me to do. Really," she admitted, all too aware of how fast her heart was beating. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do." Was there actually a right way to handle this?

---