The White Queen (S.Rogers)

Chapter74

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

It beat at the inside of her head, and as much as she tried to push it back, as much as she tried to ignore it, the ache in her chest changed to a warmth that made even her toes and fingers tingle. The ice and chill that had seemed to settle into her bones, ever since the morning Banner had blown apart her world, finally seemed to start to leave her, even though it still lingered. For the first time, since that morning, she actually felt like the ice wasn't going to pull her under, the cold air wasn't going to settle into her lungs. And for the first time, she wasn't going to close her eyes, only to open them in another place, another time.

But why now? Why did he have to give the words to her now? When she couldn't trust them?

It wasn't fair!

She whined in her throat, leaning her head back as she closed her eyes, trying to push away the pain, even as the heat in her chest grew.

It just wasn't fair.

He was speaking from the Pheromones. He had to be. It was the only explanation for his recent behaviour. There was no way he could actually mean the words coming out of his mouth. He was desperate to stay near her, so his need from the pheromones would be fulfilled.

She wanted to put her hands on his shoulders, to feel the blazing heat of him sink into her skin again, but she resisted with all her strength. They hovered over his shoulders, and she could feel the shaking in her fingers

From the moment he had demanded she remove herself from the pole, to the moment she had felt his erection against her, she had been fighting her own need to reach out to him, to hold him, to soothe his anger, and to assure him that he was the most important being in her life. That no matter what had happened, she was still his, as much as she wanted him to still be hers. Yes, she was more than a little mad at him, for the way he had basically stolen her from the club. And she was adult enough to acknowledge that she had egged him on, both with the phone call, and with her mouth once he had bounded onto the stage. But really, she couldn't help it. She wanted him to go away, as much as she yearned to pull him close.

She couldn't trust herself, anymore, when it came to Steve Rogers.

But even as she admitted that, she knew she had to give in. She had to wave the white flag.

If only he had stayed away. If only he had allowed her to set him free. Maybe then she would be strong enough to rebuild enough until he was capable of being civil, and create a lasting friendship with her. Maybe then she would have been able to keep him in her life, willingly.

As it stood now, she couldn't let him go. He had returned to her, even as she had tried to push him away. If he had stayed away, maybe she would have been strong enough on her end, to allow it. But as it stood, he was here, in her apartment, and unless she reached for the knife she had hidden in the small of her back, there was little chance he was going to leave, now.

"You hear me?" He spoke into her stomach, his hands firm and unyielding on her hips. "I love you. I've loved you for months. I was... I kept putting it off. And now it's too late. I'm sorry. I should have... I should have told you as soon as I knew. But I was... I had hoped..."

"You don't." She whispered, brokenly. This was it. She had to tell him. She had to admit to it. "I tried to push you away, to save myself from this. To save you from this. Why didn't you let me?"

He shook his head, and she swore she could feel the heat of his breath through her sweatshirt. "I couldn't let you cut us apart. But it's too late. I failed. And now... I should have told you... I'm sorry, Brooklyn. I should have told you..."