Every Breath You Take [RDJ Fanfic] - COMPLETED

Fifteen

I groan and squeeze my eyes tight, refusing to let the light into them. Grabbing at what I think are sheets around me, I pull them over my face and turn onto my side, feeling the burn in my chest and the pounding in my head already beginning. Then, I hear what sounds like...running water? It turns off, and a few moments later I hear a door opening and footsteps coming my way, accompanied by the voice that makes my heart start racing in anxiety.

"You give your hand to me," he sings, "and then you say goodbye, and I watch you walk away, beside that lucky guy..."

I recognize it; You Don't Know Me.  It's been rerecorded hundreds of times, but my favorite is probably Michael Grimm at the moment.  And, if memory serves me well, Robert's sang it in a movie before...though, not as seriously as now.

"Oh, you'll never, never know...the one who loves you so..."

To be honest...this song fits his voice perfectly, and it makes me wonder why he hasn't recorded it on his own yet.

Regardless, he cuts off right when I shift under the blankets, and I know I'm caught.

"Oh good, you're up," he observes in his familiar raspy voice.

I don't even think before my head's whipping out from under the covers to glare at him, the sunlight through the windows immediately making me regret my decision. I squeeze my eyes shut again and groan in discomfort.

"Hangover?" he muses.

"How'd you guess?" I mumble back, no amused whatsoever in my tone.

"Well," Robert says, drying his hair with a towel when I peek an eye open at him, "figured after you and Jude kept refilling your drinks, you might be feeling it this morning."

I study him, taking in his half naked appearance. He must've just taken a shower; a towel is in hand and a loose pair of jeans with the fly undone hang around his waist. I can see the dip in his hips and the cut of his abs clearly, making my mouth nearly water, but I shake my head clear of the thoughts before they're there...metaphorically, of course...that'd hurt too much right now.

"Don't take this the wrong way..." I force out.  "But you're uh...you're...not wearing any clothes, and..."

"That's cause I took a shower," he says casually.  "Needed it after last night."

That does not calm me, not at all.

"Last night?" I squeak out.

"Yeah, it was pretty wild," he tells me, going for his bags.

"Robert," I say, feeling dizzy with panic.  "I know you want to be a smart ass, but I have a lot of fucking questions right now, so if you could do me a favor and-"

His laugh interrupts me, fueling the panic further when I realize he really is just being a smart ass.  Annoying fucker...

"Relax, nothing happened."

"So we didn't..." I whisper, throat dry with embarrassment.

"What, have sex?"

I blink, unable to accept the word.  The last time I had sex?  Charlie.  When he pushed himself on me.  And I laid there accepting it like an idiot.  Surely Robert wouldn't have done that...no, he knows better.  Right?

He chuckles and pulls a shirt on over his head. "Nope," he comforts. "Don't worry."

I pull the blankets up and realize I'm still in my dress, sighing heavily with thanks. As much as I'd love for...that...I would've loved more to remember it.  For it to be something mutual and coherent and...just anything aside from painful and uncomfortable like I'm used to.  You know what, maybe that wouldn't be the end of the world to not remember it...