In hindsight, this had been a terrible idea. She was going to leave soon, had not said anything to suggest that she would choose him even despite their unexpected detour to the couch, and would likely return to her other lover and leave him used as well as heartbroken. He should have said no, he should have said something—

But he couldn't deny that he'd enjoyed it. How could he, when she was sprawled across his chest with her head perfectly centered with his heart. He continued to run his fingers through her hair, his hands occasionally running across her shoulders and as far down her back as he could reach. In all the times he'd told himself that she was just a plain girl, he'd never imagined how beautiful she'd look like underneath the layers of fabric. Her outfits were always so practical, almost mannish at times, but underneath all that was a soft, feminine body. Her skin was creamy and soft, the remnants of old bruises still visible. She was freckled down her shoulders, too, and he took to tracing patterns on her shoulders while he waited for her to say something.

Anything.

"Are you cold?" he asked softly. He knew his old tartan blanket had been draped somewhere over the couch, but there was no telling where it was—or rather, where it had gotten—over the past few minutes.

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"A bit," she admitted. Her sensitivity to the cold was still amplified from the tundra. Even a light breeze caused her to yearn for a sweater. Still, she made no move to search for whatever blanket he had nearby. Moving would mean extracting herself from his embrace, which would then lead to them having to talk. Where that would lead, Fallon hadn't a clue.

The choice seemed to have changed again in the matter of minutes. An hour ago she was trying to convince herself to appear here and break Lachlan's heart and now they just crossed a line they could never uncross. He loved her, wanted happiness with her, wanted her to stay here with him. But, that still meant saying goodbye to Jesse. Her body began to tense as the panic grew, her spine rigid, her shoulders tight.

She should've let Jesse walk away. It would've been easier for all involved if she had. Fuck. "What happens now?" Fallon asked, her tone betraying her racing thoughts more than she would've typically let on.

  

Lach sat up carefully, making sure not to let her slip too far from his grasp as he felt around him for the blanket. Less than a minute later he discovered it somewhere behind his head and tugged it out from between the pillow he rested on and the arm of the chair. He rested it across her shoulders and tucked the sides under his body. He felt her body go rigid and he knew what was coming. He didn't say anything, though, and continued stroking her hair as she remained silent.

It was only when she spoke that he allowed himself to realize that this—the sex, the snuggling, the intimacy—wasn't real. It was completely fabricated, a parting gift in essence. It must have been a way for her to remember, a way for him to feel like he was allowed to have a part of her if he couldn't keep her heart. Her words did nothing to soothe his fears, and he unconsciously tightened his arms around her body.

He shook his head, his body shifting under hers. "Don't go," he pleaded quietly. She could leave later, after they'd rested and spent time together in quiet silence. It would hurt more afterwards, but he wasn't ready to watch her go. "I'm not ready."

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His pleas were too reminiscent of hers to Jesse, almost a word for.word repetition if not for his last statement. Fallon's fingers flexed on his side, giving him a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Everything was so muddled, so bloody confusing. A few moments to hide from reality wouldn't hurt.

"Okay," Fallon agreed quiwtly. She would stay as long as needed her to. The only obligation Fallon had was work in the morning, but that was still hours away yet. She burrowed further into him, her hand reaching up to grip his. "I'll stay," Fallon promised.

  

Lach pulled her higher up on his chest so her head rested on his shoulder. He managed only a half-smile as he peeked down at her. Anything else was too hard. There were no words that he could say that would come close to expressing his love or the grief that hid behind the veil of affection. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her forehead, taking the moment to blink away a tear.

The moments, the minutes, and then hours passed. He drifted in an out of consciousness, waking from his sleep at the slightly shift of her body. She wouldn't be able t leave without him noticing. It would have been easier for her to slip out, for his last memories of her to be ones of such tenderness, but it would only strengthen the blow of her absence. Sometime during the evening, an autumn gust washed through the house and Lachlan woke with a startle.

She was still there, tucked against his chest. He reached down and curled his arms behind her knees before pulling her up into a position reminiscent of their time together in the tundra. It was the that the reality of this really hit him. He couldn't speak.

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Fallon drifted off at some point unknowingly. He was so warm against her and, after days of disrupted or nonexistent sleep, she was exhausted. Her back would regret this decision tomorrow, as sleeping on on the couch wasn't overly comfortable, but they were peaceful for the moment. She wouldn't disrupt that.

His movements woke her from sleep. If not for the tundra, she might've woken with a start and shot from his grip, her auror senses moving into overdrive at the strange wake up. Instead, Fallon moved groggily to rub her eyes and turned to look out the window. It was still dark, but wouldn't be for long she didn't think. "I'm going to have to go soon," Fallon stated quietly. Sooner than later most likely considering the state she was in. "I have work in the morning, I didn't bring any of my robes with me."

  

There it was. He found himself choking on all the words he wanted to say. Come back. I love you. Call off sick. Don't do this. There were plenty of things he could say, plenty of things that he was probably well within his right to say after their previous evening. Instead, he did the next best sensible thing he could imagine and leaned down to press a tender kiss to her lips, in stark contrast from the rough, desperate ones they'd shared the previous evening. He looked at her, taking in the sight of her. He didn't know what she was thinking or what she planned on doing, but even after taking her virtue he couldn't imagine a future where she came back to him after leaving. He wasn't easy enough—which, given their current predicament, he might have laughed at if not for the dread that currently consumed him.

"Choose me," he said in a quiet voice, one last ditch effort for her heart. "Choose me and I'm yours." If she said no, he'd let her go. He didn't have much choice at this point, no time left to convince her otherwise. He'd opened himself up to her, made a fool of himself last night with the tears and emotions he'd let run wild. Hell, he'd had sex with her, right here, on this couch—a far cry from his usual goings, but unsurprising when he looked back on it. If she didn't think he really loved her now, he didn't know what else he could do.

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Her hand gently cupped his cheek as their lips met in a kiss so unlike those of last night. It was over before it began, too, much to her dismay. Ultimately, the soft kiss was for the best, as she really did have to go to work. Fallon couldn't miss more time, not after a month and a half of being out of the office. Any good will she had for sick days vanished when she became a victim instead of an officer. Even if she wanted to stay (which she did) she simply couldn't.

Choose me. And just like that, the tranquil moment snapped. Gone was the quiet peace they'd established in their sleep and in its stead was the resumed panic of having to make a decision at all. Fallon moved to sit up, her cheeks flushing at the sight of her torn blouse and missing trousers. As discreetly as she could (which wasn't very discreet at all considering their eyes were locked onto one another) she pulled the two sides back over her shoulders and shut. Being exposed while this vulnerable was new to her, she didn't like it.

Had her choice changed? She felt like it had, but every time she thought of saying goodbye to Jesse a fresh wave of panic washed over her. It dragged her across the rocks, leaving her heart broken and exposed. "Lachlan," Fallon began as she struggled to find the right words to express her thoughts. Yes, her decision had changed, but she hadn't the slightest idea on how to break with Jesse. "I love you." Fallon settled on instead and offered him a small smile.

Then, after taking a deep breath and pushing her hair behind her ears, she said, "I already did."

  

She didn’t answer him immediately. The silence was long and painful, and he knew what was coming. It didn’t help that she would have to deliver the crushing blow while sitting on his lap, half-dressed, and still flushed pink after a night spent together. He watched her dress, wanting to appreciate the sight of her bare skin but unable to with the worries weighing him down.

Finally she spoke, and it was nothing but his name. He could hear everything that would follow in his head. Lachlan, I’m sorry. I chose him. I love you but it’s not enough. Maybe she would be kinder, but that was the gist of it. Maybe she would say nothing more and merry get up to slip her trousers on and leave. What else could he do? He’d exhausted every word, every action. He’d proclaimed his love, taken her virtue, spent the night cradling her to his chest. There was nothing left.

I love you, she said, and his eyes dropped from her face to her torn shirt. He ought to respond and remind her that he loved her, too, though he knew that would not change nothing. He gaze fell back on her as she smiled at him, and suddenly his dread turned to confusion. What? he was about to ask, but she spoke before he could.

I already did.

Lach’s eyes went wide and he stared at her in a stunned silence. And then, saying not one word in response, he pulled her in for another kiss—not as gentle as the last, but not as desperate as the night before, either.

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Choosing Lachlan was the right decision, or so she silently hoped. The depression would improve, their paths would straighten out, and they would be alright. Fallon would keep working and Lach would do ... whatever he decided to. (Distantly, she wondered if he might finally be accepting of any comforting words she had to offer or if he'd continue to box her out.) Together, they would carve a space for themselves in the world. They had to.

Her hands wound through his hair as they kissed. Any progress she'd gained in leaving was lost as she was pulled back down to him. Fallon could've easily spent the day tangled in his grasp, caving into the one fantasy she never thought possible again and again. There would be time for that, though, now that they were to be together.

Reluctantly, she pulled back from the kiss and rested her forehead against his. "I really do have to go to work," she murmured. "Much as I'd like to stay for longer." Merlin, she hoped Malou was either asleep or at work when she got back. Explaining the events of last night was on the bottom of her list of things she wished to do. And, judging by Lachlan's appearance, it would be fairly obvious what she had gotten up to.

  

Lach nodded in understanding, though he did nothing to try and hide his frown. Though she’d been there for hours, it didn’t feel like it. Now he would have to wait days to see her again, and that was assuming she didn’t change her mind between now and then. He would only relax once she returned; maybe then he would finally get the chance to take her on the unofficial tour.

He pulled back and helped her to her feet, laying the blanket across his lap to limit both his and her embarrassment. It had been too long since he’d slept with anyone, and they hadn’t exactly had much build-up to it. He stole a glance at her bare flesh, but then looked up to meet her eyes.

“Write to let me know when you’ll be back. I won’t avoid my mail anymore.” Except the ones from his coach, maybe. Those could wait another day or... five.

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Fallon stole a glance back towards him as she stood and blushed as he pulled the blanket over him. Aside from the few glimpses she got last night, Fallon had never seen a man fully undressed. Though, if the few glances were to be believed, she very much wanted time to explore his body at a later date.

"I will," she promised. And she would. There would likely be check in letters when they couldn't be together, too. Fallon didn't wish to overwhelm him, but she thorughly enjoyed her frequent letters to Jesse. Perhaps that would translate to Lachlan as well. Fallon scooped up her discarded pants and slipped them on without doing a thorough search for her underthings. Her clothes would all need mending and cleaning after this, going home commando wouldn't be the worst thing.

She dug her wand out from her pants and did a basic repair on her shirt. It wasn't perfect, not by anyone's standards. "I'll see you soon," she murmured before pecking him one last time. "Bye, Lachlan."