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Date Posted: 17:21:38 05/03/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Chapter 23 - Part 2
In reply to: KGilbert 's message, "Dreams in the Dark - Chapter 20 and forthcoming" on 17:00:21 05/03/02 Fri

He made his move toward this new path by motioning toward his dressing room, waiting to see whether she felt comfortable with the thought of being alone with him there; at least it was quiet, would get them out of the way. He watched her, too, saw a flash of . . . something in her eyes, but she nodded nonetheless, following his lead. A moment later, the door was closed behind them--and they were truly alone.

Oh. Nikita looked around herself, taking in the place she had just entered, still a little overwhelmed by the course she had begun. Somehow, although she had been alone with Michael frequently before--both at their lessons and in her own dressing room--this felt more . . . private, somehow, and she suspected that it had little to do with the fact that he didn't share the room with another actor. Her heart thumped. No--the real reasons went back to the fact that it was his space, not hers--not neutral ground, either. Oh. The thumping grew louder. Somehow, they really did feel far more alone than ever before.

She was a little amazed by this, turned back to him at last, eyes wide--wondering how she had even gotten here. Part of her, of course, was pleased--had rather been wanting to run over here and barge her way in for sometime--but part of her was suddenly a bit timid. This really did feel like his world alone; he too easily dominated any space he was in. She nearly moaned, the terrifying new thought rising--following along from so many events today, and all the musings they had brought about. But she had never before so wanted to be at someone else's mercy.

Hmm. He saw her slightly shocked look but wasn't certain how to interpret it; he gave a small sigh. He really wasn't sure what was going on--but he knew he had to get the various fantasies which were rampaging through his consciousness to settle down a bit; he repeated the truths before him silently, constantly. She had come here of her own free will--had obviously come for his help, not to be seduced; he knew this perfectly well, could never question it. His heart thumped, though, some rebellious part of him rising once again. But that didn't help keep the tempting visions any more at bay.

They had been caught staring into each other's eyes for several long moments before he finally remembered his manners--drawing himself back from the many dreams which so often plagued him. He pointed toward the chair closest to her, the one at his makeup mirror--and, a moment later, she seemed to pull herself back together enough to smile and take it; he sat as well and waited. Now, he just had to see where this went.

Oh. She was staring at the floor, her heart thumping ever-louder. Now that she was here, she had no idea what to say or do, didn't have a clue how to begin; the fears rose, her breaths speeding with it--the shock setting in. Oh, Lord. She didn't even have a real plan; her look fell further. Maybe this had been a very bad idea after all . . .

Hm. He watched her face, saw the growing terror in her eyes--and wondered again where this was going. Some small part of him was theorizing that it could well be part of the aftermath of the desperate kiss he had given her earlier--but he wasn't certain from her look whether she might be here for more of the same or to ask him never to touch her again; his heart sunk slightly. Perhaps the latter wasn't the most logical theory, based on what he was seeing, but his anxieties ran deep--were in constant conflict with his desires. His voice was gentle, as he prompted--needing to understand. "What's wrong, 'Kita?"

Ohh. Lord, did she love the sound of his voice when he said her name--especially like that; she nearly moaned. Everyone else who shortened it came up with "Nik." There was a quiet sigh. She had no idea why his version sounded so very good.

It was hard, took her a second, but she shook this thought from her head--knowing she needed to start this; there wasn't that much time. She tried. "Michael." There was a deep breath, bracing herself to move right to the heart of matters. "When you kissed me earlier, . . ." Lord. She broke off. It really wasn't a question, but it was the best she could make herself do. Words just didn't seem to encompass what she was feeling at all.

Oh--Christ. He closed his eyes for a moment, understanding too well; just the thought was too much. His body was still awash in desire, still felt heated with every second of memory; he swallowed heavily. If for no other reason, he shouldn't have done it simply for his own sense of sanity; he shuddered wildly, the needs running deep, as the truth sunk in. It had been just one, intense kiss--but he might never be quite the same again.

It took him a few seconds, but he tried to answer her--still wishing he hadn't pushed things so far. It made so much sense of her earlier, highly unsettled, state. She was young and innocent, after all--and he expected far too much from her, too quickly; he let out a sigh, staring at the floor, wishing that words could make it all better. "I'm sorry."

Oh! Please no. Her heart thumped. That really wasn't what she wanted to hear.

She forced herself to look back up at him, praying she had misunderstood, her eyes wide, looking deep. She could only hope she got the answer she wanted. "Are you?"

Christ. He winced, feeling all his excuses peeled away, revealing the ugly truths inside; she knew him too well. There was a very small sigh. If only it weren't true . . .

It took him a moment to process this; he had to close his eyes, trying to drag back in all his thousand different needs, before looking back up to her at last. All of his tormenting emotions and fantasies showed clearly in his eyes, nonetheless--his voice hoarse, as he forced himself to be honest. He knew he couldn't lie to her again--whatever the consequences--needed her trust far too much for that--but the simple word nearly stripped him bare. He only hoped she wouldn't run. "No."

Lord--that look. Her heart quaked, as she gazed back down to the floor, biting her lip; she was shuddering a little just seeing his amazing eyes. She sighed quietly. He was so beautiful, overwhelmed her constantly; her mind turned suddenly, though--finally coming back to herself enough to focus on his answer. And did he mean . . .?

She looked back up to him, gaze wide--searching for what she wanted to see. She nearly moaned a second later, however--just that simple connection too intense; her heart thumped wildly. Oh, Lord. This relationship was about as hard as they came. Still, . . .

Her mind turned a moment later, suddenly knowing why she had come--knowing exactly what she needed to hear; she took a deep breath. Now was the time to ask.

She forced herself onward, her determination on the rise. "Michael." There was another deep, bracing breath. "Tell me the truth; don't spare my feelings." He gazed at her curiously, but nodded, and it took her another moment to work herself up to ask. "Why did you kiss me? What is it that you want from me," her voice lowered, her fears on the rise, "that you feel for me?"

Oh--Christ. He broke the look, staring back at the floor--his heartbeat thundering. Facing down Wolfe had been simpler than this. He closed his eyes for a second, terrified that anything like the truth would send her very far away--his heart pounding further, his sadness on the rise. Why, oh why, did she ever have to ask?

It was a very hard moment to face, was hard to make himself. He was beginning to breathe a little heavily, was wringing his hands, as he forced himself to meet her gaze again--in the midst of a desperate struggle over how to approach this, beyond terrified of her possible reactions. As soon as his eyes met hers, though, he nearly moaned--all his defenses falling suddenly away; his breath nearly left him, reality sinking in. No--no matter what the consequences, he had to tell her the truth; there was no other way. He let out a shaky breath. And then God help them both.

His intention was set from that moment, his only path too clear--but it didn't make the execution any simpler. He took another deep breath, bracing himself, as he looked back to the floor, his voice soft. He just had to get this right--but he had no idea how to begin. "I don't know if I can explain." His hands wrung a bit further, as his mind searched for words; it finally gave up the struggle, overwhelmed--allowing them to flow straight out of his soul. He shook his head. "I wasn't thinking clearly tonight, hadn't planned to do that," he sighed, "didn't want to push you."

Christ, this was hard--and he had no way to know whether he were making any sense. His knuckles were becoming white with the force of his needs--trying to take out his enormous feelings somewhere; it wasn't helping much. "I won't say I didn't want it--that I didn't enjoy it." He looked back up to her, his gaze holding his soul; his voice was even huskier, accent more heavy, as he told her the truth. "I've wanted to do that from the moment I met you," he sighed quietly, his mind shifting, "but I never wanted to force you to live out that fantasy for me."

Oh! She blinked. Is that what he thought he had done? Her words came quickly, before she had thought them through. "Do you really think I didn't want that?" Her gaze widened, however, when she heard what she had said--and she refocused abruptly on the floor, her heart pounding, terrified of what he might think. "I mean . . ."

Yes. He sighed, interrupting her. "Let me finish." Not only was he not ready to hear about any of her needs, knowing they would overpower him, would quickly work away at the reason which had briefly managed to dominate his mind, but he suspected that--if he didn't get these feelings out in words tonight--he might never do it again. He knew himself too well, knew that his determination could easily fade in the face of his fears; he shook his head, sighing. God help them both, if that were to happen again.

He was trying to brace himself to say the rest of this, then, waited till she refocused on him, but, when she did, the look was too much--too sweet, far too intense; a very small groan echoed in his throat, as he stood, moving to get away--turning from her to pace further across the room, needing more space. It took him another second to start, his voice quiet; his heart was incredibly heavy. "I promised you I wouldn't take advantage of you, 'Kita--promised that you didn't have to fear me." He let out a sigh, staring at the floor. "But I'm not sure that's true anymore."

Oh--Lord. Just that part of his confession made her heart pound wildly--her mind whirling. He couldn't mean . . . She bit her lip, watching his back--trying not to be enticed by just this view; she had to shake her head to get her thoughts somewhat on track again. If only she knew any way to keep her sanity around him . . .

He was oblivious to her thoughts, though--couldn't bear to take them in just now. He drew a deep breath, trying to pull himself along; it wasn't easy. These just weren't confessions he could face without pain. "I promised those things not just to you, but to myself--vowed I wouldn't harm you." The sigh ran deeper, as his eyes closed; he was so glad she at least couldn't see the torment on his face--the reflection of everything in his heart. She would no doubt hate him enough as it was. "But that's not where my fantasies are anymore."

Oh! There was a moment of silence, as she waited--breath nearly suspended--for where this was going, her heart pounding wildly with every passing second. Far from frightening her, his revelations made her very much consider throwing herself in his arms once more; she took a deep breath, forcing herself to be patient--to see whether her conclusions were correct. She had to wait to see what was coming next.

Christ--this was killing him, even her silence driving him mad; it didn't even matter that he wouldn't have survived a single word. He never wanted her to understand the depth, the rapacity of his desires, of his dreams. Even if he hadn't at all abandoned his earlier plan, he couldn't ever let her know that side of him--not in the way he had been fantasizing about, anyway; the truth wracked him, inescapable. She was sweet and gentle and beautiful--and he needed to love her in a way which wouldn't scare her away; he barely held back his moan. But none of the feelings he had at the moment were helping him out at all.

He pushed himself on, hating himself all the while; his fist beat against his thigh--punishing himself for the aching desires which never left him for a second--the ones she was far too innocent to ever understand. He spoke out of his soul once more, voice deep. "I can't explain it fully, not the way I feel." There was another small breath, his mind suspended further, as his heart beat out in words. "I need you, Nikita--more than I've ever needed anyone." He pounded his thigh in anger once more, his breath shuddering. "And I don't think you have any idea how dangerous that can be."

Oh. Well. Her heart was fluttering a little, her eyes wide, as her mind raced; she had no words to express her delight--wasn't certain he would understand, if she did. Of course, he had no idea of all the things she wanted at the moment, either. Still, . . .

It was, really, a lovely revelation for her--took away so many of her former fears; her heart beat wonderfully, as it all sunk in. So he did want her. She grinned further, trying not to laugh out loud. Yes--that was definitely the nicest turn of events in her life so far. She was going to have to see what she could do to eventually bring that about.

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  • Chapter 23 - Part 3 (end of chapter 23) -- Repost Fairy, 17:23:29 05/03/02 Fri
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