In Your Eyes

17.

They both cried for what felt like hours. When the tears had finally came they found them almost impossible to stop, but on the other hand, lying in the arms of someone who needed you just as much as you needed them was a new experience for both of them. The lying together hugging suddenly became a frantic need as they staryed to kiss furiously. They rolled around in the bed, managing to get rid of every piece of clothing between them without breaking the kiss, and then, when he was hard and hot and pulsating inside of her they were finally calm.

They fell asleep together tangled upp in the sheets, and didn't say a word until the next morning. Ellen realized they weren't done with the talking. They would have to talk more. But somehow, Jill had turned up exactly at the right time. They hadn't been together long enough for Ellen to feel that he really had lied to her, actually, she realized, they had just known each other for about two weeks. Two weeks. It seemed increadible. She felt too much for two weeks. And that was perfect timing from Jill too - she felt too much to just let him go, even if he didn't tell her the truth. He said that he was going to tell her, and she belived him. They could work this out.

She wanted them to work it out. It scared her how much she wanted that. She hadn't been competely sure until last night - at least she tried to tell herself that, because it seemed insane to be sure so soon - but when Patrick had told her about what had heppened, she had seen something in his eyes. Something that made her want to hold him close and never let go.

He might be cocky and riddiculously good-looking - Ellen smiled a little - but deep inside he wasn't cocky at all. He was just scared and hurt. And for some reason, when he had looked at her, she had realized that he was afraid as hell that she would leave him. This amazing man needed her. She didn't know why or when it had happened, but it was no doubt that he did. And when she lied there, woken up by the sound of his heartbeat, she decided to hell with time. She needed him too. And she wouldn't fight it.

His arms was wrapped around her. She was quite sure that he was still sleeping, but his thumb was stroking back and forth over her hip. Small movements, but definately there. His nose was buried in her hair, the side of her face against his chest. Their legs were interwined and she could hear his heart beating. When she realized that she was breathing in sync with his heartbeat, she closed her eyes and let herself pretend that they were one person.

A few minutes later she couldn't help but let out a small giggle. Cheesy. She had become cheesy. But the worst part was that for now she was fine with it. What good did worrying do anyway? Problems would come, they always did. No use worrying about that. She would just lie here, be a cheesball, and be fine with it.

Patrick moved a little around her, his thumb never stopping stroking over her hip bone. He mumbled something.

"What?" she said, smiling againgst his chest.

"Giggling," he muttered, not opening his eyes. She didn't either. "What's funny?"

"Nothing," she said, giggling again. "I'll stop it. Go back to sleep."

"No." She could feel him sniffing at her hair. "Don't want."

"Don't want what?"

"You stopping. Me sleeping. Don't want. Don't stop."

"Fine," she said, pressing a small kiss on his chest. "I won't then."

He smiled against her hair. "What?" she said again.

"Nothing." He seemed to change his mind. "No. You. Your hair."

"My hair?"

"It smells good." He became quiet, and then "And you're still here."