Adam

I wake up in the middle of the night. Taylor's still lying on top of me, and for the first time in forever, I didn't dream. At all. No nausea, no shadows, just fuzzy nothingness. My back is stiff, and I'm cold, since the fire's gone out, but I don't want to move. I want to stay exactly like this.

All that just from telling her about my military past. Imagine what I'd get if I told her about Mom, or Davy and all that shit. But I stop the unkind train of thought in its tracks.

She gave herself to me, this perfect girl now sleeping peacefully in my arms, and there's no way I can be unkind to her, not even in thought. I didn't tell her all that to get sex from her. It was for the warm, soft understanding she gave me, and the admiration. And because she wanted to know.

Her white skin is glowing in the moonlight streaming in through the double windows. It stopped raining while we were sleeping. I wish I could see her face, but I know what it looks like without having to. Her heart shaped lips pursed and slightly parted as she takes the even breaths I can feel on my nipples. Her eyes, so big and expressive while she’s awake, closed, resting. Happy, I hope. I close my eyes again too, and don't move at all, because that way this moment can last forever.

But her skin is cold, and I can't reach the blanket without getting up. So there's nothing for it. I sit up, scooping her up as I do, then debate whether I even dare try to lift her all the way. My back is completely healed, or so they told me when they discharged me from the hospital, but it still hurts, and maybe it isn't the best idea.

She wraps her arms tighter around me, snuggling closer, so there really is no debate. I stand up with her in my arms, and my back doesn't protest at all. Maybe that pain is more in my mind, like the doctors kept suggesting.

She doesn't wake as I carry her to the bed, lay her down and get in beside her, pulling the covers over us both. I wrap my arm around her, inhaling the fresh scent of her hair. I hope to Christ I don't have any dreams now, because I don't want anything to ruin this.

* * *

Taylor

It's past three and Adam's still sleeping. I've dried and folded all his clothes, made breakfast, and ate it by myself. I didn’t have the heart to wake him, because each time I peeked into the bedroom he was laying in practically the same position as when I woke up at around ten.

I've been watching him sleep for over an hour, my heart fluttering as I searched his face for signs of nightmares, but I saw none. I could do some research, or maybe write a little, but I can't get myself to do anything without him right now. It's such an odd feeling, this hold he has on me, and I'm still blushing at the thought of wanting to give myself to him so completely. But I do, I can't deny it.

He finally stirs, and opens his eyes, staring at me blearily. His eyes are so green they're emerald, and I really don't want him to close them again.

"Good morning," I say. "Or afternoon, more like."

He flips over and stretches, yawning loudly, his muscles flexing and releasing in the most fascinating way.

"What time is it?" he asks, grinning at me like he knows exactly what I'm thinking.

"Almost four," I say, clearing my throat. "Come on, I'll make you some breakfast."

I move to slide off the bed, but he turns over and catches me in his strong arms, burying his head in my side. "Let’s just stay in bed."

He's holding me really tightly, and the warmth spreading through me has nothing to do with sex, it's something a lot more pleasant than that.

I run my fingers through his hair, and down his cheek, pulling him closer. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Not yet," he mumbles. "I'd rather stay right here."

So I relax, let him hold me, caressing his bare back, and just let myself enjoy the moment.

"Don't you think I'm more like Snow White?" I blurt out later, not even sure why. Maybe it's because his hot hands stroking my thigh are giving me ideas.

He looks up at me, smiling wryly. "Nah, Snow White? With all those dwarves? Who needs the competition?"

I smack his back lightly. "You have such a dirty mind."

He gets up and pulls me into a real hug, kissing my forehead, sending a vibration right through my core.

"You're all those fairy tale princesses rolled into one. That's not even a question," he says, his voice washing over me like sunshine. "But you're more than just beautiful. That's all I meant, when I called you Little Red."

"Nice save," I whisper and wrap my arms around him to get closer, feel his skin against mine, hear his heartbeat. He's so perfect he can't be real. And yet, he's mine.

"I was serious," he replies, and I believe him.

So we stay like that, not talking, just wrapped in each other’s arms for I don't know how long. It feels like no time has passed when he finally stirs again.

"OK, I am getting a little hungry. But then we're coming right back here, alright?" The light in his eyes is intoxicating.

I nod, then remember. "We should go to the supermarket, though. There's hardly any food left."

I watch his face fall, the light leave his eyes. He cracks his knuckles absentmindedly, the sound making me cringe.

"Into town?" he asks.

He didn't mean to say it, I'm pretty sure, judging by the confused look in his eyes now.

"To a supermarket anyway," I mutter. My heart's beating real fast again. He doesn't want to be seen in town with me. Maybe he has a girlfriend there, or even a wife. Maybe that's the reason he won't talk about himself. Maybe I’m not just a distraction for him, but a secret as well.

"Or I can go alone," I choke out over the stinging ball of tears forming in my throat. This is affecting me so bad, and I don't even know why. I've known him for like three days. But I want to be with him for the rest of my life.

He sort of squints at me, like he's trying to read my thoughts, then shakes his head. "No, it's alright, I'll go with you."

But it's a decision he's struggling with, I can see it in the sudden change in his eyes. They're all purpose now, dead calm, no glow in them at all.

The mood's completely shattered, all the pleasant warmth gone, only the memory of it remaining. It's like someone left the door open in winter, and now all heat's gone from the room.

"I'll get your clothes," I say, and this time he doesn't stop me.

When I return, he's already in the shower so I leave the stack of clothes on the edge of the bed and go dress in one of the smaller bedrooms. He's eating the quiche leftovers by the sink when I come out again.

"Ready?" he asks.

"I can go on my own, it's no problem," I tell him again, surprised to even get my voice out over the knot in my throat. "I mean, if you’d rather not be seen with me."

I just had to say it, couldn't stop myself. I have no idea what we're starting here, but I didn't think it was a secret.

"Oh, that's what you think," he says and wipes his hands on a rag, then walks over and wraps his arms around my shoulder. "It's not about you in any way. I'm just supposed to be gone, and now they'll know I'm not."

"Who?" I ask, my heart fluttering in my chest.

"Everyone. It's a pretty small town."

"We can go to another supermarket, in another town," I suggest. Damn it, but I'm turning into my sister, have no backbone left when it comes to this guy. I mean, he could have a wife and kid somewhere, and here I am falling for him hard.

"No, whatever, I don't really care," he says and lets me go, then picks up my car keys from the counter.

I don't follow him out the door though, because I'm just frozen. He's turned so cold suddenly, and I feel like I don't know him at all.

"You coming?" he calls from the front porch, and when I finally get my legs to move and come outside, he's already sitting in the passenger seat of my car.

"You drive," he says and smiles as I get in, but it doesn't light up his face like it usually does.

There's a million questions whirling in my mind, but I don't ask any of them, because I don't know how my fear will come out if I try. I'm probably just being stupid, reading too much into this.

We don't speak for the whole way. The radio's blaring and when one of his brother’s songs comes on, he curses under his breath, then changes the station.

"I kinda like that song," I say, more to break the silence than anything else.

"Well, I really don't," he says and keeps staring out the window. It's a gorgeous sunny day outside, so clear you can see forever, the clouds left by the rain thick and white like cream.

"Fucking shit!" he curses all of a sudden, twisting around to look back. In the rearview mirror I watch a red pick up do a U-turn behind us.

"What is it?" I ask, my voice all shaky, though I have no idea why I'm scared.

"Never mind," he says, facing forward again and pointing to the left. "That's the turn off for the supermarket."

He cracks his knuckles as I take it, my foot shaking on the gas now.

In the parking lot, he gets out of the car before it even stops moving.

"You go in, I'll find you," he says and slams the door shut so hard the whole car shakes.

When I get out too, he's already striding of towards the red pick up that followed us here, and which might be the same one he came to fix the pipes in.

Two similar looking guys climb out, one older, the other younger. I'm rooted to the spot, but Adam doesn't turn, doesn't acknowledge me in any way.

And it's that more than anything else that gets me moving into the supermarket. I feel like I weigh at least a thousand pounds as I walk into the store on my own, the fluorescent lights burning my eyes.