Broken Submission

The Apartment

"Stay."

Amelia lifted her head from where it rested on his shoulder.

He looked down at her, green eyes soft and pleading. "Please."

"Sir..." her voice trailed away. "I can't." She stopped him when he started to speak. "It's not that I don't want to. But I spoke to my landlord. He has a couple lined up for my apartment already. Given that, he's letting me out of my contract with minimal penalties."

Disappointment flashed across his face. Then, hope. "Stay with me. My apartment isn't far from yours."

Amelia pulled away in shock. "Wha-what?"

"Not permanently," he rushed. "But it'll give you time to sort things out without all the rush."

She relaxed a little. Her first instinct was to reject the offer, but the idea of not rushing blindly into the night, completely lacking the funds to rent another apartment... it was appealing. Garret was still a problem though. The carnations her ex-husband had left in her sink had been a warning and a promise. He was coming for her. But would he dare attack her in Derek's home?

It didn't matter, she decided. There was no way she could impose on him like that. Derek has just gotten caught up in the scene, mistaking attraction for intimacy, knowledge of each others' bodies for knowledge of each others' hearts.

She must have turned her head to the side as she pondered all this, because he pinched her chin between his fingers and turned it so that she faced him again.

"I can see all those thoughts running through your head, little subby." He rumbled. "And I want you to know that I don't make insincere offers. It's a big step. But what I'm doing is helping out a friend and taking the opportunity to get to know an interesting woman a little better. If you tell me no, do it because you truly don't want to be here, not because you think it will make me happy."

"Yes." She didn't let herself think about the word and what it meant. If she thought, she would talk herself out of it.

Derek's face cracked with a smile. "Well then, little one. Would you like to go home?"

His apartment was gorgeous. Simple yet elegant, it wasn't huge, but the furniture matched. There was an area rug on a floor made up of deep reddish, waxed wood panels. The kitchen sparkled with high end appliances and dark granite. Understated. Tasteful.

A picture of his family sat on the side table by the couch, a huge group photo where the people were divided cleanly, a large group of Hispanic family members, goofing and tight knit, and a comically smaller group of white people posed stiffly.

"My extended family." Derek said from behind her. "Now you see what I mean about my mom's side," he laughed.

She giggled, then stopped, a little taken aback by the sound. It sounded genuine and carefree, girlish even. She wasn't entirely sure she liked it.

Derek couldn't believe she was standing there in his apartment. Her black trench coat was wrinkled, her posture relaxed. Though she looked around with curiosity, it didn't feel like he had a guest over. It felt like they were coming home—their home. And that fucking giggle—what he wouldn't give to hear that every day.

He loved how unconcerned with his presence she seemed as she scanned his apartment. She found it to her liking if the appreciatively raised eyebrow was any indication. He loved that she was happy with it; he felt a sort of Neanderthalish pride, as though he had found a suitable cave for them to hide and make babies in.

She turned to look at him, and he was struck dumb by her dark eyes. He marveled at the difference from when they first met, at how she looked—really looked—at him. She was relaxed, and the current of nervousness, almost fear, that had constantly hung around her had all but vanished. He loved the intimacy of their eyes meeting.