Ash

It was cold, and the trains had finished running for the night. I wandered aimlessly for a while, but in the end, I had nowhere else to go. I found myself at the office, hovering over the desk, writing Jesse a check for the next year's wages.

He'd be better off. He'd have the money he needed, and he wouldn't have to worry about working while he finished school. He could have a normal life, untethered to someone who should so clearly be alone.

I found myself staring at his name. My thumb tracing over my handwritten script as if somehow,he was connected to the compilation of letters in a way that would allow him to feel my touch.

Check still in hand, I made my way to the kitchen and fished around for the unopened bottle of whiskey a client had given me a few years back. I rarely drank. It was inappropriate during business hours, and it solved nothing anyway. Problems were still there when you sobered up. I didn't care.

I took a long drink from the bottle before making my way back to the desk. Another before I could bring myself to scrawl his name and address on an envelope, and another before I could slip the check inside. I found myself sitting on the waiting room couch staring at the desk.

It already felt unbearably empty without his hulking form leisurely reading a textbook. I couldn't endure the thought of no longer seeing him smiling up at me as I passed through the main area. I lost control of everything I'd been holding on to so tightly and sobs wracked through my body. The only other time I'd cried that way was when my father had died decades ago. I couldn't stop it. I didn't even try.

My God.Had I been in an accident? How was it possible for a head to hurt this severely while still attached to a body?

I groaned as I brought a hand up to rub my forehead and shield my eyes. I cracked one eye open tentatively in an attempt to figure out why it was so bright. Maybe I was an ant under a magnifying glass.

Opening the eye was a mistake and a new rush of pain flooded through my head. At least I'd figured out the light. I was at the office, laying on my back on the couch with one arm and one leg dangling off the side. Morning sunlight streamedthrough the windows.

What the actual fuck had happened?

I shifted slightly and my fingertips brushed the tip of something smooth and a loud clatter echoed through the room. Right. The bottle. I'd left Jesse and drunk myself into this mess at the office. This is why you don't drink, Ash. I mentally berated myself. With a Herculean effort I didn't know I was capable of; I shifted into a sitting position and buried my face in my hands to block out the world. When I finally raised my eyes with a deep sigh, I froze. One of the wingbacks had been moved. It was now a mere foot from the sofa where I had been sleeping.

Jesse.

He was asleepwith his head against the large wing of the chair. An opened envelope lay at his feet, and half of a ripped check rested on his thigh. One hand hung off the chair, outstretched toward the couch.

What was I supposed to do? Sneak out? He'd have to leave eventually I supposed, I could just change the key code once he had. A moment later, all my half-hearted attempts at escaping him without further heartbreak proved to be for naught.

He shifted slightly in the chair, andhis eyes flew open. As I watched, those pools of gold, made even brighter by the morning light, slowly appeared to fade to a dull brown as he remembered how he'd come to find himself sleeping in my office. Silently, he shifted out of the chair and onto his knees in front of me, wrapping his hands around both of mine. I knew I should pull away, but I couldn't force myself to move.

"You don't get to decide for me, Ash. You don't get to pick what I wear, what I eat, or who I love. If you can tell me right now that you don't want me, that you don't love me, I'll go without a fight. But that's the only way I'm leaving this room without you."

I tried. I really tried. He deserved so much more than I could offer. I drew up all the strength I had left and opened my mouth. No words came out. I closed it again silently. As his fingertips reached up to trace along the line of my jaw, I felt my eyes close instinctively and my head tiltintohis touch.

I'd never been embarrassed by my profession before, not really, but until that moment, I'd never realized just how pathetic I was. Knowledge of language and politics, the ability to make a man's eyes roll back with the simplest of touches; what did any of that matter?I was so broken. It had been months, and I hadn't let the man who loved me touch me.

"You deserve more than someone like me. This is all I am, Jesse."

He silently shifted to wrap his arms so tightly around me I could barely breathe. He buried his face in my hair and spoke gently against my neck.

"I thought you were struggling with sex because of your job, I never realized it was because you were afraid to let me love you."

I hadn't realized that either until he said it out loud.

He stood; fingers clutching mine, and I followed without resistance. We didn't speak as he led me out the door. He held my hand tightly as we walked the few blocks to the train station. We didn't speak during the train ride, or on the walk from the station to my house. I allowed him to lead me into the bathroom where he finally released my fingers and started the tub. I stood motionless, lost in my hangover and painful revelations, only half aware of the world around me.

He stepped close and stripped me slowly. The warmth of his fingertips was electric as they brushed my skin from time to time. His touch seared me, and it becameall that existed. He gestured with his head, and I slid into the water without argument. I let my eyes close as my head fell back.

The hard, cool rim of the tub nestled perfectly into the bend of my neck, the pressure slightly easing my throbbing headache. I felt him settle on the ledge behind me and warm water cascaded down the crown of my head and through my hair. His fingertips followed and I shivered so hard it may have looked like a small seizure. Nothing else existed as he slowly worked the tangles from my pale locks. Time lost all meaning, and I've no idea how long we sat that way.