The Missing Years - Redacted Scenes

Belonging

A/N: Noah and Elle move in together

Elle

It's been a month since my late night confession and today I officially moved in with Noah. Boxes of my stuff are stacked in the spare bedroom and for once I'm thankful that I don't own that much furniture. I'm also thankful that Noah doesn't have an extensive clothing collection because otherwise my stuff wouldn't fit. I hang the last few items and sit down on the bed, looking at our clothes there, on opposite sides of the wardrobe. His suits and shirts, my dresses and work clothes. Of course his side is color-coordinated. Mine is not. But then, I reason, it's easier to do that when you basically only wear three colors.

Noah sticks his head in the door. "Did it all fit?"

"Yeah, just."

"Good. Did you want to unpack anything else?"

I lie back on the bed in disgust, throwing my arm across my eyes. "Ugh! No. I can't look at any more boxes tonight. I think I'm going to dream of boxes. Well, more like have nightmares. A giant wall of boxes, collapsing on top of me. Death by boxes."

I hear Noah chuckle and I can tell he's moved into the room, closer to me. "I think you're being a tad dramatic, Shelly."

"Nope. It's true. Definitely going to have nightmares."

"Okay, well I might have a solution." Noah's voice is quieter, but definitely close now. I keep my arm over my eyes.

"What's that?"

Instead of giving me an answer, Noah tugs off my shoes and socks. I half sit up, resting on my elbows. He's no longer wearing a shirt. "What are you doing?"

He just smirks at me and holds out his hand. I take it and he pulls me up to stand in front of him.

"You can only have nightmares if you're asleep."

"Mmm, yes that's true."

Noah bends down to whisper in my ear. "So the answer's obvious. I'll just have to keep you awake." He kisses the spot on my neck just below my ear and I nearly collapse, but sanity prevails.

"Wait, wait, wait. As much as I like this plan of yours, I'm gross and sweaty from moving all day."

His mouth is back at my ear and I feel his hands start to lift the hem of my shirt up. "So we'll start in the shower then."

Shivers of desire run through me at the thought of combining Noah with a hot shower, and it must be obvious because he chuckles, a throaty sound that sends more sparks down my spine. I'm glad he's in the process of pulling my shirt over my head, because at least it hides my face and gives me a moment to try and collect myself a little. It's useless, though, because no sooner am I free, then his mouth is on mine, kissing me senseless. It's not fair, the effect he has on me. It hasn't waned in the slightest since we were teenagers, in fact, it's only gotten worse. Or should that be better, I wonder?

"Elle..." the menace in question taps my forehead with the pad of his index finger. "I can almost hear the cogs turning in here. Stop thinking and take your pants off." He smirks at me lazily and my stomach goes into freefall. "Unless of course you'd prefer me to do it for you?"

"No, it's fine, I can do it," I stammer, my hands flying to the button on my waistband.

Honestly, I feel so disgusting right now that it's humiliating to think he might've got a whiff of my armpits as he took my shirt off. I quickly strip off my pants and underwear, gathering them and my shirt up and pitching them all in the clothes hamper before fleeing into the bathroom and turning the shower on. Noah's snort of laughter makes me scrunch up my face, appalled at my total lack of grace. Why can't I ever be cool around him?