Reconciliation

Declan realized that, although he wasn't sure when it had initially begun, his body was buzzing. Somehow his pulse had gone up, his eyes, he assumed, were a bit darker than usual, and when she reached for him he immediately did the same without even thinking. He didn't realize he'd done it until she said his name like that and his fingers curled into the fabric at her side.

The residual anger he felt began to fade as she spoke, replaced by something he was uniquely and entirely attuned to: Regret.

He closed his eyes as well, and let her say her piece before trying to come up with a response. In his pause, he leaned his cheek into her hand and just sort of looked at her.

"Please don't think like that, Dom. You- I..." He drew in a breath, lifting his free hand to her hair, looking at the motion of his fingers rather than at her while he tried to say what it would take to get it right with her. "The thing is, right, I'm not good with things that are unconventional. Not after her. So being uncertain is actually terrifying. But I think that maybe I care too much about those things. Dom," he said a bit more urgently, searching her gaze, "I don't know who convinced you that you're not... important, or whatever adjective you want to put there. I don't know how they did it. But whoever they are, they're not here. I am. I'm here and I'm telling you that it doesn't matter what they think. Not half because I believe they've got it wrong. You've got it wrong, too. The more you worry about becoming what they've said you are, the easier it will be for you to slip into that. The easier it will be to get there.

"So listen to me instead, love. Please. And believe me when I tell you that you may be frustrating and indecisive and whatever else," he cracked a smile, unable to help himself. "But you're more endearing than frustrating. And more capable than you think. When you find out what it takes to get the job you want, you come round whenever you want to work on ... well, whatever you need to. I don't know if I can help, but Merlin knows I'll try. If I care about you this much after all that's happened, just think how simple things would be if you accepted the belief that I have in you. And don't you dare tell me it's unfounded."

The hand at her waist gave a slight tug, encouraging her to move closer if she were able. "I want to cut a deal with you, Dom. I won't bring it up again provided you stop thinking so much." Declan tapped gently at her temple before offering a teasing smile. "If you want to be here, just do it. If you want to tell someone I'll come tear them to bits if they touch you, that's fair enough. But don't think about Danica, because she'll get verbally battered without me even having to think about it if she comes around again. And I'll do my damnedest to shut up whoever keeps telling you lies about yourself. When you're in this flat - when you're around me, just... do or say or ask whatever feels right or necessary. Okay? And I won't ask you again," he promised, his expression serious. "I've forgotten how to do things on the fly, so you'll have to forgive me for being so stubborn about it."

Dom felt herself trembling, and it was in that moment that she realized him granting her the wish of noncommitment was not going to bring her any sort of relief. She wanted to punch herself in her face - what was it she wanted? She didn't feel right making any sort of commitment she wasn't sure she could live up to, but she certainly didn't want to take any steps back. And she knew that this middle ground they had stumbled upon wasn't right either.

There had to be some sort of pleasant alternative. There was always an alternative.

He touched her and she relaxed against his hands, letting out a deep sigh. She too did not look at him, instead focusing on the bunched up fabric of his shirt, smoothing it out underneath her long fingers. She felt his eyes on hers and she dropped her own to examine their feet, but felt the pull of his gaze drawing her chin up and she felt herself dropping her hand so they both rested against his chest, and she leaned against him, enjoying the closeness that she had always been so frightened by.

He teased her and she smiled, unable to keep from nuzzling her head against his shoulder, letting his reassuring words wash over her. There it was. He had found it. The alternative.

Part of her wanted to make a big appreciative gesture, throw caution to the wind and just take the plunge. But that had been the problem. Every time she felt uncertainty, she overcompensated with a big leap and then found herself in uncharted waters. Declan was finally letting her do it her way, so they could work up to his way. She could feel herself breathe easier. She could show him how much she cared when she showed up more than usual, reached out every time, took every opportunity to return this huge concession.

She would transform into someone worth loving.

She lifted her chin and looked up at him, smiling. "One favor. Don't get too tired of me hanging around all the time." She smirked and lifted herself on her toes to press a longing kiss against his lips.

Declan wasn't sure, yet, if he would come to regret his decision. But once a man like Declan had made a promise with such gravity and so much riding on it, there was little that could pull him away from that. The choice had been made, and there wasn't any time or any point in worrying about it right then. Particularly because Dom looked thrilled, so he must have said the right thing to make her feel settled with that sort of relationship.

What were labels, really, anyway?

He was going to roll his eyes and laugh at her comment, but Dom distracted him. Smiling against her lips, he wound his arms around her. "Can't say I mind," he murmured between brief kisses. Then he properly closed the distance between them, holding her against him as his movements became more insistent.

That buzzing feeling he had felt before? He understood it now. He hadn't thought that Dom's bizarre determination to keep him in their relationship of sorts could cause that. Perhaps he had always felt it but had pretended otherwise. At Hogwarts when she had called him out and they'd fought in the middle of a hallway, it must have been there. Declan didn't think that he had a temper about things like this unless it regarded Dom. He would've torn into someone who did something morally wrong, sure, but he wouldn't have been so hellbent on making them understand.

Did he love her? In a way. It was a start. He would hate to be without her, would hate to see her with anyone else. But he hadn't had that revelatory moment when it hit him over the head with a metaphorical rock. Declan only hoped it wouldn't happen until she was ready - as unlikely as that silent request was - so that he wouldn't make the mistake of saying it again and spooking her.

There was something behind her kiss, he felt. Or perhaps he imagined it because he wanted it to be there. Perhaps it didn't matter in the end. But it seemed like they both felt somewhere between relieved that they weren't fighting anymore and happy that they had. His fingers curled around the fabric of her dress, bunching it up at the small of her back.

He broke away for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath and looked at her again. "I missed you."

She felt a bubble of pride at being able to catch him by surprise with the kiss, but the desire to have the upper hand, even in this fun little way, melted away at the shared communion of their kiss. It had been so long since they had been able to express any of their affection physically without worrying about what the other thought. Declan didn't want her to think he was rushing it, and she didn't want him to think she didn't take her own qualms lightly. But it seemed right to wash away all of the fear and surprise and anger with sweetness, with hunger.

He stepped closer and she felt her appetite grow, and she tried not to replay that moment where he had slammed his hand down. But a bit of her eagerness translated into the kiss and her hands traveled up, one gripped the side of his face as the other wrapped around his neck, pulling herself even higher onto her toes to increase the need of the kiss.

Need. He had spoken of need.

That was it. The feelings he had spoken of were certainly there, but they were timid and uncertain. She knew how quickly they would run away at any sort of provocation, but here they were, peeking their heads out of their little caves, egging her on. She knew she would be battling these for the weeks to come. She hoped they would battle her enough to know she actually did conquer them, did destroy their uncertainty, but not enough that she would fail and they would forever remain in their little homes.

This was the man that said she could aspire to be more. She wouldn't let those feelings run away from such kindness.

He pulled away and her lips twitched, unintentionally pouting in a brief second of disappointment. But his eyes were on her, and his hands were heavy and present on her body.

"I missed you."

She couldn't help it. She couldn't. It would have been such a sweet moment if she could be a less mischievous woman. But a wry grin twisted onto her face as he hooked both hands around his neck, leaning away with a tempting grin.

"How much?"

Declan knew that he had already told her how he'd missed her, which was actually probably something of a given, and undoubtedly quite obvious if his greeting had been any indication. Why was it that things always seemed to start out well before then descended into madness? And why was it that their arguments were the only things that helped them get anywhere?

Figuring he would have to think more on that later, he let his gaze dip down to her arm as she curled her hands around his neck. Her response made him smirk, and Declan glanced down briefly before looking back at her, surprisingly serious despite the lust simmering behind his eyes.

"Oh, love," he uttered. "Trust me; you'll see."

And it might sound shocking, reader, given Declan's previous arguments and angst about that sort of thing, but he actually did mean it. Because, regardless of the way Dom had worded it, Declan was getting a large part of what he'd wanted. And although he would one day make the mistake of getting too comfortable and thinking that she wouldn't want him to try again to make it official, he felt like things were actually looking up for them.

Well, more than they had been, anyway.

So he just sort of stopped thinking at that point. It wasn't the first time he'd done that around Dom. Obviously. But the urgency and the intentions behind his actions were certainly more obvious.

Declan leaned in again, but this time his lips found the juncture of her jaw and her neck, and one hand trailed away from her back, around to her hip. As his fingers nudged her backwards, he glanced up just long enough to make sure he could guide her safely through the doorway to his bedroom. It seemed silly, now, that he had bothered spending his time making the bed, when he was clearly on the right path to mess it up again. But he hardly cared anymore, instead planting a series of kisses across her skin and back up to her lips.

The night would turn into a deliciously fun game of 'this is what I was thinking of while we apart.' With all of those irritating feelings of confusion and uncertainty gone, or at least at bay, she could fully enjoy and appreciate the man that had occupied the majority of her thoughts while she was away. Fighting didn't make sense for the two of them. They were meant to be like this, trading giggles for kisses, and touches for happy little sighs. Insatiably hungry eyes, desirous roaming hands, reassuring little squeezes. This is what made sense.

Though she would certainly relay some of the details to Rose (who would answer with "Hot! Hot! Hot!" before complaining that she needed a Declan of her own), Dom realized that for once she had something with someone that she would enjoy keeping all to herself.

Exhaustion would overtake them, and before any talk of what boundaries did exist could happen, their eyes fell closed and they remained comfortably entangled in each other, her hand on his chest, head tucked near his shoulder.

Daybreak would jostle them from sleep, quietly bring them to life. Breakfast would be made while Dom sent her luggage back home. They would share a meal, talk about plans for her change of career, and just enjoy what they had.

Because that's all someone can do anyway.