Chapter 10
You realize it quite suddenly, as Williams tilts your face up to hers, you’re breath catching. It seems so obvious now, you don’t know why you had been second guessing yourself about it before.
“You want me.” You say with delight, a breath away from her lips.
Williams pulls back enough to give you an astonished look. “Yeah.” She says, tilting her head as if wondering why you would ask such a question when she had literally been about to kiss you. “I do.”
“It’s just…” You trail off, looking up at her sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure. Before, I mean. I feel a bit silly for only just realizing it now.”
She stares at you for a moment. “You're actually pretty bloody dense, you know that?” She rolls her eyes but leans in closer. “Yes I want you.” She whispers in your ear, and you can hear the exasperation in her voice. But beneath it, you hear the desire as well, the sound of it a seductive thrill, and it sends a flutter of excitement through you. “I won’t deny it.” She adds. “I’ll tell you as many times as you’d like, even.”
Despite her words making you feel even more nervous around her, you playfully swat at her shoulder. “You could have said something earlier!” You exclaim. Really, the relief you feel now is amazing compared to the emotional turmoil you had put yourself through tonight, unnecessarily it seems.
Williams levels you with an unimpressed stare. “Didn't seem like the right time to say so when you were passed out and shaking the first time, and well, I assumed you had gotten the hint back at the club, you know, like a normal person?”
Ouch. She certainly doesn't mince her words.
“Well…I thought that maybe…but then you asked me outside to talk about stitches? I thought if you wanted me you would have said something more…”
“Sexy?” She supplies with an arched brow.
“Suggestive.” You offer instead. “I thought you might have only been looking for an equal trade, like last time. You know, like stitches in exchange for the drink or something.”
She keeps looking at you like you're a bit thick and you find you can't really blame her.
“I was going crazy trying to figure out if you wanted me or if you were just being nice!” You say defensively, but it does sound a bit ridiculous to you now that you say it out loud.
“I’m not nice.” Is all Williams says in response and, well–
“I think you're nice.” You tell her with a smile. She looks like you just told her she had something in her teeth. “You are.” You insist. “You’re considerate. You noticed I was cold, without me saying anything, and gave up your jacket. That was nice.”
“I didn't need it.” Williams retorts. “I don't mind the cold.”
“And you gave me socks.”
“Technically, they're not mine, they’re Elanor’s. And that was just because I didn't need you getting hypothermia in my kitchen while you were doing something for me.”
“You didn't have to put them on, you could have just tossed them to me.” You retort, having fun with this now.
She seems to consider this for a moment. “To be completely honest with you, I just wanted an excuse to touch you. I still hadn’t decided if I was going to kiss you or not. Which, by the way, I would still really like to do, if you're done questioning me.” She levels you with a look that has you avoiding her gaze and grinning at the floor like a fool.
She huffs out a laugh at your reaction. “Yeah, that too. You’re cute when you blush.” She says, smirking at you. “I wanted to see what you’d do if I touched you.”
You remember sitting there on her table, feeling the tension, and gaslighting yourself into believing it wasnt there, her hands on your legs.
I'm such an idiot.
You know she can't have read your mind, but Williams seems to agree with you, shaking her head and muttering. “Thinking I wanted to kill you, but not kiss you? Unbelievable.” Then she pushes your hips against the back of the couch. “Would you like me to tell you again?” She asks, running her hands up your waist. “That I want you? Or should I just show you?” She whispers into your neck.
You force your voice to steady but fuck its so hard when she says things like that. “I want you to tell me what you were thinking then.” You say, proud your voice sounds mostly even. “Maybe it was obvious, but you had your chance to make a move then and you didn't. Why?” You don't tell her how disappointed you had been when she hadn't.
Williams shrugs. “I told myself that if you made the first move then it wouldn't have been my fault and I could just indulge. But then you didn't. So I was just going to leave it at that.” She's toying with the side seam of your dress and it's rather distracting. “I need to forget about you, but if I seduced you it would feel like cheating, so I tried to just set the scene and see what you’d do. A part of me was hoping you’d be too scared to do anything.” She grimaces, remembering. “I didn't think you’d be scared that I’d kill you though.” She still sounds amazed at the idea.
You press your lips together, thoroughly embarrassed at your overreaction earlier. “And right now? This doesn't count as seducing me?” You glance down at her wandering hands, how close she is, all the things she's whispered to you tonight.
You feel rather seduced.
“Well you've seen my cards. You know what I want, why I want it. It doesn't matter what I do now, because I know you want it too. So let me. Let me make you feel good, let's each get what we want, and then let's never see each other again.”
It’s not anything she hasn't said before, but it’s still not what you want to hear and it kind of pisses you off. So you decide to return the favor.
“You're nice.” You tell her, because for some reason, the statement seems to bother her. Not the men that came to kill her, not the bleeding hole in her side, not even an amateur attempting to sew her up and fainting had seemed to faze her the slightest. But calling her nice? Williams doesn't seem to know what to do with that. And you’d be lying if you said that didn't make you a little excited. Because you don't want to forget about her, or her you. Despite being the cause for a lot of your anxiety, no one has ever made you feel as calm and safe as she had back at the store. It’s not something you’d like to admit though, especially to her.
“Am not.” Williams replies automatically and then cringes. You laugh.
“You are.”You tell her. “You’re nice.” You say again decidedly, even though she just pissed you off. “You asked me how I’d like you to kiss me. It was thoughtful. And I think if I tell you nicely, you’ll even do it how I ask.”
She raises a brow at you. “It was more rhetorical.” She grumbles back. “I know you’d like it, however I decided to kiss you.” She says honestly, and well, shit. Because she's not wrong.
But, still.
“Will you actually let me now?” She says with an exasperated look. You never meant to be such a tease, but seeing her this bothered is kind of fun. Knowing that she wants you feels exhilarating. You pull her closer, and she sighs, sliding her hand along your jaw to tilt your face up towards hers. “Finally.”
“I want you to kiss me.” You tell her as she leans closer.
“I know.” She says.
“I think I wanted it from the moment I saw you, once I got over the fright.”
“You’re still talking.” She mumbles, a breath away from your lips.
“There’s one more thing…” You manage to get out. You hear her sigh, but she pulls back a bit again, and despite wanting her close, you're glad for it. The second her lips are on yours, you know you're not going to be clear headed enough to really tell her what you need to. Because even now, she has your head filled with all kinds of fantasies. You have visions of swollen lips and hickies, reddened skin and scratches.
You take a deep breath, focusing on her fresh scar from the bullet and pushing those thoughts from your mind. “I'd like you to be gentle.” You whisper into the space between you two.
This, for some reason, surprises her, and she pauses.
Williams looks like she might say something, but then shakes her head. After a moment she only replies, “Are you sure that's what you want? I don't really know how, to be honest with you. I can’t say it's my specialty.”
Oh? Then what is?
You think you might have an idea but you only nod instead. “Yes. I want you to be gentle with me.”
She seems almost apologetic. “I–Well, the thing is, I’ve never…” The hesitation is unusual compared to her usual confidence and despite yourself, you smile.
“Don’t tell me you're a virgin.” You say teasingly.
Williams laughs in your face.
When she’s able to compose herself, she bites at her lip, attempting to hide a smile. “No.” She says after a moment, amusement still clear in her tone. “No, I'm definitely not a virgin.” She presses her lips together, looking like she still wants to laugh, but reigns it in.
“It wasn’t that funny.” You frown. You hadn't expected her to be one, but her reaction makes you feel embarrassed for some reason. It’s not until she replies that you realize why.
“No?” Williams asks, raising her eyebrows at you, unbelieving. “I met you for five seconds before you were blushing for me. You think you’re the only one?” She glances down significantly at your hands, unconsciously running over her forearms, leaving unsaid how obvious your attraction to her has been since the moment you met her.
You scowl at her. She's right of course.
Williams is hot.
You’re most definitely not the first girl to think that, and you doubt you'll be the last. You suppose you walked into that one with your question. “You liked me too, you know.” You grumble. You’re not entirely sure why she doesthough. She’s seen you at some of your worst moments, and besides helping her with the stitches, you feel like you've only ever inconvenienced her, with your panic, your paranoia.
“Yeah, and it’s been a pain in the ass to try and forget that.” Williams replies, absentmindedly pressing a hand to her bruised abdomen.
You smile cheekily at that and she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”
“So.” So you say after a moment, and despite all youre talking, you appreciate that she hasn't tried to shut you up with a kiss yet, letting you take your time getting comfortable. “Not a virgin then. But you’ve never had gentle sex before?” You realize what you said a second too late.
“Not that…not that I was thinking of that!”
You had most definitely been thinking of that.
“I mean, I know you just wanted me to kiss you, forget about me and all that– I wasn’t implying anything more, I mean I wasn't even thinking about sex, I don't know why I even said that.” You ramble, turning redder by the second and fighting the urge to bury your hot face in your hands.
“Right.” She says, nodding, amused and unconvinced as she watches you squirm. “Because you never thought about it while stitching me up? Not when you had your hands all over me?”
She shifts slightly, hands sliding down to your hips as she tilts her head at you with a grin. “Or, when I touched you like this?” You avoid her intense eye contact, fixing your gaze on a lamp over her shoulder instead.
“Because you seemed to like it. Quite a bit actually.” She adds when you press yourself closer automatically. She turns your chin to face her, blue eyes locked on yours. “Maybe I don't know how to be gentle,” she whispers, “But I do know how to be a lot of other things.”
It’s almost enough to make you cave right then and there.
After how frazzled you've been tonight, plus all the fear from that night back at the shop that you still haven't fully processed, you really want to take things slow, make it last as long as possible. Because you might not ever have another opportunity with her ever again. You’d like to avoid a frenzied hook-up, but she’s making it a bit difficult for you to stop from throwing yourself at her, especially when she says things like that.
“I fear we’ve lost the plot!” You interject loudly, cheeks heating up despite yourself, but you very obviously don't move away. Williams grins in response. She loves this little game, the very obvious effect she has on you.
“Right.” You say trying to regain your composure, surprised it's even lasted this long at all. “So, you've never had a gentle kiss before?” You ask softly, returning to your original question.
She shrugs. “We're usually both pretty drunk. I dont always remember. Besides,” She glances at you. “Girls don't usually approach me because they think I’ll treat them nice, you know.” You take in her height, the way she dresses, the glint in her eye that promises either violence or pleasure, perhaps both, and you get what she means. Other girls have probably looked at her and seen only that, but for you, you remember a bloody hand clenched over her side, bare arms wrapped around you, warm hands on your ankle. Glimpses of a person who she might have never had the opportunity to be for anyone else. Someone more vulnerable, someone capable of gentleness.
Or maybe that's your wistfulness talking.
You know she said she only wanted to kiss you in order to forget about you, but you can't help hoping you’ll be memorable to her regardless. “Well, are you drunk now?”
“Not anymore, but I think I should wish that I was by tomorrow.” She shrugs. “Fuck it though. If that’s what you want, tell me how you want me to touch you…gently.” You might have thought she’d make fun of you a little for the request, but she seems surprisingly earnest. “Or, rather, just show me. I’m a fast learner.” She looks like she might say something else again, but then leaves it at that. You wonder if there’s something else on her mind, if she’s also thinking of that other person she could be, with you.
You consider this for a moment. “I can do that.” You nod. “Why don’t you start by taking a seat?” You say gesturing towards the couch.
Williams raises a brow at you. “This is my flat.” She says but sits, stretching out her long legs. You bite your lip, eyeing her lap and resisting the urge to climb onto it and never get off.
“Now what?” She asks, drumming her hands on her knees. “Can we kiss now?”
Hearing her say that makes you smile even more. “Just…hold on. I’m thinking.”
You want to make sure you go about this the right way, not just giving into your desire immediately, and to her credit, she lets you think, watching you as you pace up and down in front of the couch. Williams seems perfectly capable of taking the lead, but she also seems willing enough for you to decide how things go, which you appreciate. And with her? The mysterious girl who just the memory of has been an anchor in the roiling sea of your chaotic mind? You want to make it last as long as possible.
But then, after a while she sighs, “If I have to wait any longer, I’ll probably change my mind.”
You freeze, heart dropping.
“Kidding.” She says after a moment, grinning at you.
She's got a bit of a mean streak but it’s kind of hot, if you're being honest with yourself.
You scoff and roll your eyes. “If I give you specific directions, will you follow them?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She replies and you actually have to duck your head at that, hiding your face because of the way it has you grinning.
“Oh?” Williams says with a surprised laugh, amusement clear in her tone. “She likes that.”
“No I don’t.” You deny automatically, though you don’t even know why.
“Liar.” She smirks. “I bet you're the type to like bossing me around. Cant say I’m used to it, but can't say I'm completely against it either.”
You don't know what to say to that, so you take the opportunity to drop into her lap, hoping it will distract her.
It does, her eyebrows shooting up as her hands come to rest automatically on your legs.
One point me!
Face to face, and without all the nerves and worry and fear that had occupied your mind before, you’re able to gaze at her, from the softness of her lips to her clear blue eyes, watching as her pupils dilate when she looks at you.
She’s somehow even prettier than you remembered and the thought makes your heart race. Just her confidence and her body has been enough to make you feel flustered, but with her undeniably lethal face card, you truly feel like you're reeling. Of course the trade off is that she’s most definitely a murderous criminal, but you try not to think about that. When she shifts her hips up, adjusting beneath you, it’s very easy to forget.
“Lesson one in being gentle!” You say, raising a finger in the air, hoping she doesn't notice it shaking slightly.
“Not everything has to be fast, and not everything has to be…well, rough. We obviously want each other, and that's fine. That's good.”
It’s actually great, but you don't say that.
“There's too many things and people in life that will throw their worst at you as hard as they can. I feel like you might know that better than anyone else. When I'm with someone…” You let your fingers trace over the back of her hand, where it rests on your thigh. “I want it to be an escape from all of that. When I'm with you, I want to teach you what that means.” You pull back your hand.
“Kiss me on the cheek.” You instruct, hoping to hide any self-consciousness the request brings.
Williams gives you a skeptical look. “Of all places…” She murmurs, bending to bring her lips to your neck instead, but you tap her chin.
“No.” You say, shaking your head. “Cheek.”
She meets your gaze, holds it, then brings her hand up to the side of your face, cradling your jaw before brushing her lips against your cheekbone softly.
“Good.” You tell her, unable to hide the giant smile splitting your face. “How’d that feel?”
“I don't know, nice I suppose?” She looks at you strangely. “Are you sure you don't just want me to..” She gives you a significant glance.
You shake your head. “I don't want you to kiss me like you've kissed other people.”
And maybe that makes you a bit weird and possessive, but–
Williams shrugs. “Then what's the point of it all?”
“Desire is not a race.” You tell her. “Is it so wrong to want to savor you?”
“Like I’m a fucking pastry?” She asks, incredulous.
“Try it,” you say. “Look at me. Touch me somewhere you'd like. Somewhere you typically wouldn't.” You counter, when her hands go straight to your hips. “I don't want you to simply chase desire, like you're used to.”
I want you to savor me too.
Williams cocks her head, looking at you, at your body, and you try not to fidget under the weight of her gaze. After a moment she reaches out, tracing your collarbone with a finger and her touch makes your nerves alight beneath your skin. She nudges her jacket from your shoulders and it falls around your waist, her fingers absentmindedly circling on your shoulder next. You watch her, eyes on her own fingers, as if marveling at the novelty of touching you.
“My turn.” You whisper and her gaze flicks up to yours.
You’ve touched her plenty before, but never with the sole intent of wanting to like this. Now, it’s not it sew her up, to wipe blood from her skin, but to revel in the sensation of her skin beneath yours. You copy her, letting your finger trail along her collarbone first, then under the strap of her sports bra, to the dip of muscle in her shoulder.
And then, since you’ve been staring at them all night, you let your fingers glide down the contours of muscle in her arm, from the defined hardness of her triceps to her tattooed bicep, feeling all the little nicks and bumps of scars along her skin. You let yourself enjoy the feeling, how strong she feels, and you think you could sit there and touch her all night. But when you touch a peculiar section of raised skin on her forearm, running a finger over it, you pause.
“Got bit by a fucking rabid animal.” Williams says by way of explanation, and you realize it's the first thing she’s said in a while. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet.
You study the crescent shaped scar, noting the angle of the bite and realize something. “This pattern is from a human jaw though.” You say, tracing the arc of teeth marks and wondering what kind of job got her into that.
“Yeah.” Is all she adds, a slight quirk to her lips. “It is.”
“Right…” You say, passing over the scar, fingers trailing to her hands, to her split knuckles that you had noticed earlier.
“And here?” You ask, the tip of your finger ghosting over the raw skin. Whatever was the cause, it happened recently, and you try not to think about what kind of trouble she's been in.
“Same rabid animal.” Williams replies, amused.
You raise your brow at her and decide to leave it at that. You haven't forgotten about the bruises all along her torso, a part of you wanting to ask about them as well, but let your hands drift to her face instead.
“This is pretty.” You say, tapping a finger against her cheekbone, tilting your head as you watch the light shimmer off the glitter there.
“My roommate insisted.” Is all she says, looking at you strangely, like she can't decide if she should pull you closer or push you away.
“Was this what you had in mind?” She says after a moment, as if suddenly realizing something. “Is this what you like? I say I want to kiss you and then you do everything but that?” She sounds slightly hurt and you can't figure out why. “Did you just want to get me to a point I’d beg? Because I’ll tell you right now, I won’t. Not for you or anyone else.”
You shake your head, caressing her face. “No. No, of course not.” You don't know why she’s suddenly got defensive, and you want to reassure her. “You said you wanted me to show you how to be gentle, right? That's all I’m doing. That’s all I want to do. I’m not trying to…manipulate you or whatever. Will you let me touch you?”
“Yeah.” She says immediately, then pauses. “No one’s ever asked me that, and I've never thought about it before. But, yeah.” She bites her lip before glancing at you. “I’m just not used to…this. If you were someone else I’d probably have you against a wall right now.” She says honestly and well–while you're not at all against that idea, you want to continue going slow. You kind of get the idea she’s not used to intimacy.
“I want to know you. What you like, how you want to be touched.”
She stares down at you, like she's trying to puzzle out a mystery. “Why though? Why are you being so sweet to me? Why do you care what I want?” She asks instead. It’s like she doesn't want to be suspicious, but can't seem to help herself. “That’s not normal. Don’t you know who I am? What I’ve done? Ask me for more money. Ask me to kill someone for you. Ask me to fuck you. That makes more sense.”
You stare at her. It seems like you might not be the only one with delusions.
“What kind of people are you hooking up with?” You ask, a bit concerned. All you've done is sit on her lap and touch her face, but the way she's acting would make it seem like you've professed your undying devotion to her or something. You get the idea that hookups or relationships for her have been strictly physical, but still. Have people always asked something of her in return?
“It feels like you're toying with me.” She says, eyes narrowed distrustfully and you’re reminded of how dangerous she is, how fast she can move.
“I just want to touch you.” You tell her honestly. “Not because I'm scared, or panicking, but because I want to, because you let me.” You let your hand drop, falling onto your lap. “I like being close to people. Physically at least. Touching, feeling, it helps ground me.”
“You could definitely use some of that.” She says with a huff, a bit of her personality coming back as she recalls your previous anxiety attacks.
You playfully swat at her arm. “I told you, I’d like to go slow. I understand if that's maybe something that you’re not used to but I promise you I'm not messing with you. I think we both know I like you a bit too much for that.” You feel your face heat up a bit at the admission, but you don't look away from her.
“Does…” Williams pauses, like she's never had to think about finding the words for what she wants to say next. “How can you stand it? To...touch me I mean. Like that.” She looks down at her hands, flexes them in the space between you. “Desire, I understand. The cycle of drinking and flirting, the kissing and fucking, only waking up to regret it if I remember, that I know. But why would you want me sober? I've done some things that you would probably see people in the hospital for. You’ve seen me do them. Doesn’t that scare you? Disgust you?”
“Well, I did think you were going to kill me like an hour ago.” You remind her jokingly.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m being serious here.”
You shrug, thinking it over. “Honestly? I think two things can be true. I can be afraid of the things you've done, the things you’re capable of, and I can still want you to hold me. I've never claimed to be an unselfish person.” You take a deep breath. “I’ve…dealt with a lot of fear in my life. I know you said that's something you don't really experience anymore, but it's something I have to deal with all the time. I’m not able to get rid of it easily, as you’ve seen. So when I find something that helps, well, it's hard for me to let it go.”
“And I help?” She asks, doubtful.
You hesitate, wondering how much to tell her.
“I thought about it a lot, when you held me, back at the store.” You tell her. It's not the full truth, that you had thought about her arms around you almost every night, the thought of her the only thing that helped chase away the lingering panic when you woke up from a nightmare of being chased by armed men coated in blood.
“Me too…” She says hesitantly.
You glance at her surprised. “Really?”
Williams avoids your gaze. “Uh, yeah.” She fidgets with her piercings. “Yeah, I did. It was…different for me.”
You wait for her to elaborate but she doesn't, letting the silence linger.
“Can I hug you?” She asks at last, a bit too fast like she's worried you’ll say no, and she–oh my god is she blushing?
You can help but burst out laughing, because never in a million years would you have expected Williams to ask that of all things.
She looks away. “Nevermind. Forget I said that.”
“No no no! That was actually really cute.” You say, unable to completely stop your laughter as you hold your arms out to her. “Yes, you can hug me.” You tell her with a smile.
She makes a face at you but wraps her arms around your shoulders and pulls you against her, like she had on the floor of the breakroom. You're not panicking now but the soothing effect the weight of her body has on yours is just as good as it was then.
You slump against her shoulder. “This is nice.” You sigh after a moment.
“Yeah…” Williams replies, voice a bit muffled. “It is. I don't really understand why, but it is.”
“Williams…” You say. “Have you never hugged someone before?”
“No.” The response is simple and immediate.
Ah. So that's why she had seemed so confused when you requested it the first time. You wonder at the kind of life she’s lived.
“You’re a little difficult for me to figure out.” You tell her. “But if there’s something you want, know that you can ask me. I won't judge you for it.”
“Well, all I wanted was to kiss you, so I’m not sure how we ended up here instead.” She says with a little laugh, but she doesn't sound too upset about the current situation. Her hands run along your back and you wonder if she's even aware of doing it.
You want to ask her so badly, about herself, about her life, her work. There's so much about her you don't know. You wanted to become a nurse to help people, and sometimes you have to remind yourself that not everyone wants your help. Still, from what little you know of her, Williams seems like she lives a lonely and brutal life. Perhaps it's a bit selfish of you, but you’d like to be the one who can help her, make her feel good, at least for a little. You tighten your arms around her.
It’s a while longer before she speaks up again. “I think if you keep doing that, I’m going to fall asleep like this and then I won't get to kiss you. And I really want to kiss you.” She says sleepily.
You laugh. “Can’t have that. Allow me to wake you up, Sleeping Beauty.” You say jokingly, as you pull back a bit to look at her. Meeting her eyes, you realize she looks more relaxed. You wouldn't have said she looked tense before, honestly seeming quite calm, but now it seems like she's unwound a bit. You think the hug helped more than just yourself, and the thought warms you. It’s the last one you have before you lean close to her.
“For the record,” You murmur, lips centimeters from hers, “don't mistake my patience for passivity. I still want you. In more ways than I’m willing to admit.”
“You’re all talk–” Williams starts, probably expecting for you to pull away again, but then is cut off abruptly as you lean forward and kiss her. After everything, it seems to catch her off guard. It’s only for a moment though, and then she's pressing you closer, fitting her mouth to yours with a breathy gasp that just might be your own. You can't tell anymore.
Her lips move against yours and its everything you could have hoped for and more.
Williams is a good kisser. A great one, if you were to be honest.
So good, in fact, that every single thought leaves your head, only the feeling of her lips against yours, her body pressed close, but somehow not close enough. You shift your hips, arching up against her and you feel her groan into your mouth.
Your hands can't seem to stay still, wandering from her shoulders, to her face, then to her hair. You let loose the bun you’ve always seen her in, her blonde hair cascading around her, longer than you would have imagined. You bury your fingers in its surprising softness, pulling back slightly to look at her. She looks different with it down, and you can't help from stroking her hair, her face.
“You're so pretty.” You whisper, in between her kisses.
Williams doesn't seem to know how to take this, but doesn't get the chance to reply because then the front door swings open, drunk voices loudly filling the entryway, splintering the intimate bubble you had found yourself in.
“Ah Will, glad to see you’re back to normal!” Followed by a drunken cheer. Your own mood however, has considerably soured.
Williams tilts her head back against the couch, closing her eyes with a heavy sigh, and you don't like the sound of finality it has.
“You should go.”