Esme shivered as Miguel landed in the alley way, his suit disappearing as he muttered to Lyla to dismiss Esme's as well. Back in their civilian clothes, Esme moved to slip from his hold but his grip tightened on her, pressing her closer to his chest.

"Stay. It's okay." She could feel his chest vibrate against her as he spoke, a soothing feeling that sunk into her skin.

He walked around to the front of the building, his face complete stone and voice flat as he approached the receptionist.

"I need a conjoined room on whatever floor you have. One night. Quickly." Esme elbowed him. "Please."

The woman looked up and down at his dripping wet form with an equally tired and drenched woman in his arms. Her eyes widened and she quickly nodded, her fingers gliding against her computer.

"A-alright. It'll be on the fifth floor, room 102B." She reached below the counter before she handed him a card. "Enjoy your evening sir."

Miguel cast her a glare, and was about to make a snide comment that he'd definitely enjoy it with a case of hypothermia, but Esme elbowed him again. So he just took the key and strode away to the elevators.

Esme shivered more, her skin starting to look less tan and more a blue tone. Miguel clenched his jaw and found the room fast, opening it and moving to the bathroom. He sat her at the edge of the tub and turned the water's heat all the way up, testing it with his hand to make sure it wasn't too hot as the faucet steadily gushed and filled the porcelain to the top.

"Okay, it's all ready." He stood up but Esme's hand gripped his sleeve.

He looked down to see her teeth chattering, her arm hugging herself as she looked up at him behind the dark veil of her hair.

"D-don't go."

Miguel quickly lowered himself to his knee to look her in her eye, taking her hand.

"Esme, you need to get in before it gets cold. You need to get your body heat back up."

She shook her head. "If you leave my sight, I might never see you again."

His eyes softened and he took her hand reassuringly. "Esme, I promise that won't happen. Please, get in the tub."

It was a reflexive action, zero thought behind it until he realized how nice her hand felt in his. How delicate her fingers brushed against his palm.

"Just stay. Get in with me." The quiver in her voice made his chest tighten.

"Esme, don't be silly."

"Why not? Our clothes are already wet."

He paused. She did make a good point. But what if it gave her mixed signals? Hell, the fact that he wanted to was giving himself mixed feelings. Would this be pushing the boundaries of their relationship? She did ask, but she was also not in the right state of mind. She was emotionally exhausted.

He sighed and pushed back his hair from across his forehead, eyes flickering to the water. The steam wafted invitingly, filling the room with a slighter warmth. He looked back at Esme's shivering form, her eyes closed as she waited for his response. It looked like she wasn't going to budge.

"Okay..." he pulled off his jacket before he lifted her and carefully stepped in the tub, lowering himself into the water with a sigh.

All the while, Esme hugged his body tightly, gasping from the change of temperature before she sunk against him, relishing in the warmth.

"Is this okay?" He questioned, getting comfortable leaning back with her weight positioned between his legs.

She nodded, sighing against him. Her hair floated around her neck, dark locks perfectly placed around her face. He hoped she'd stay like this, curled up against him like a puppy.

She felt safe with him, in this moment. Which was ironic to Esme considering the past few months had been nothing but a rollercoaster of hating, tolerating, then liking each other, before the cycle repeated.

Maybe they were finally back to the place they were before. Trusting. But what if Esme was being a burden? Delaying the mission by a day- keeping Miguel stranded from his universe all because of her own emotional problems.

She could never catch a break, huh? Dragging Miguel into a tub with her- laying in such a compromising position with him-

She felt a blush slowly creeping across her cheeks. She was so out of it. Such a screw up.

Miguel's hand ran through her hair.

"Hey, Areñita? Are you crying again?" He brushed her cheek with his thumb, lingering beneath her eye as they finally looked up at him.

"No..." she murmured, barely above a whisper.

He chuckled and tilted her chin up to look at him.

"So it's just mist on your cheeks then, hmm? Not tears?"

She bit her lip sheepishly, glancing away and quickly lifting her hand to rub her eye.

"Hey, it's okay." He caught her hand, lowering it slowly. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. And I'm on your side."

She looked back at, searching the pits of those velvet eyes. Some of the vibrance in his skin was coming back, the curve of his jaw glistening with dew as the steam sunk onto his lashes and brows, his wet hair poised in beautiful curls against his forehead. She always knew he'd look good without the gel.

"Do you promise?"

His chest tightened at her pleading eyes. Cat eyes turned to doe with her tears filling the edges. How could he ever deny her when she looked at him like that? Ever hurt her. He had to make up for those times. Prove to her- to himself, that he wasn't the same anymore. Get over his grief and stop being such an ass.

"I.."

Her eyes glanced finally at his lips. 'No, no no. Bad Esme. Eyes up Esme.' Velvet eyes. Corners softened, glancing at the lower half of her face. Her heart skipped a beat.

"...I promise."

The water rippled as she moved with him- closing the distance. There was a solid second of nothing. Pitch darkness as her eyes closed, a whisp of air kissing her face- and then, contact.

Like the moon landing, the waves crashing against the shore, the sun touching the horizon, a leaf landing against the calm surface of water, or a ship hitting the iceberg... their lips met. Whether she was Apollo 11 or the Titanic, she didn't care. It didn't matter.

Because she finally had something she never realized she wanted- needed. His lips were embracing hers, hand gliding through her hair with calloused fingers that seemed to pull and tug at every nerve in her body.

He took a breath before he pressed closer, deepening the kiss and stealing any air Esme had left in her. His hand drew down her spine, nothing but a thin barrier of her wet shirt between her and the pads of his fingers.

She'd never felt like this before. Never even in her wildest dreams had she thought this would happen. Not even when they were fake dating back when they had no idea who the other was. He always felt so far away. So distant. Like a towering statue she could never break past, only looking up. All she wanted was to get close enough to be his friend- she never intended to be close enough to be in his pants.

And yet....

She pressed closer, moving her knees to straddle his waist now and causing the water to splash over the edges.

Miguel gasped, breaking from the kiss and firmly placing his hands on her shoulders to pull her back.

"We... we really shouldn't. That was wrong of me." He panted, but Esme couldn't stop staring at his lips. They were a bit more red, she noted. But not enough. She wanted to make them pinker than his cheeks.

"Why?" She leaned closer, gliding her fingers down his neck before placing her lips on the spot and gently kissing.

"Because." He groaned, trying his best to get a grip on both her and himself. "You... you're not in the right state of mind."

Esme paused, pulling back. "You think how I've been tonight is me in a fragile state?" She blinked. "Miguel, I'm like this every day of my life. It doesn't change how I feel about you. About this."

He breathed, "But even so- I'm... I'm not a good man, Esme. You don't want to do this with me. I can't offer you anything. I'll just... poison you." Miguel brushed back her hair behind her shoulder, drinking in her warm scent.

"You are the sun, and I am the vampire that hides his face from you." He looked up at her, brows knotted. "I will do nothing but leech any good left within you for myself- turn you into a monster like me. You heard what happened. I cheated on Xina, then led Dana to her death. And when I lost her, I almost let the grief win. The only reason I'm here is because of you. And if... if I lose you- god forbid, if I lose you too-"

"You won't." She took his hands. "And if you do, you will survive. Because I'm not the sun Miguel, and you aren't a vampire. We're just, two flames kindling. And if mine dies out, it will pass over to yours. Live within you."

She placed them against his face, brushing her thumb over his lip. "If you turn me into a monster, then we'll roam this earth together. If you turn your face from me, I will turn the earth just for you to look at me once again. Because I... I love you.

I love you, Miguel O'Hara."

She hadn't meant to say it but she couldn't back down now that it was out there. So what if it scared him off? She waited too long in her fear to tell Gavin that. Too long testing the waters that she missed out on an opportunity to be more with him. She wouldn't do that again. She loved Miguel. Earnestly.

She loved the dimples on his cheeks when he smiled at his own sassy comments. Loved the way he tried to hide it whenever she made her corny jokes. Loved the way his eyes went from hazel to brown to red in certain lighting- even certain emotions. Loved the way he combed his hair back but let it hang loose when he was tired across his forehead.

Loved the way he chats with Lyla with so much authority in his voice, but a certain care and love behind his tone. How patient he is with his employees- with running a whole company that's mindset seemingly takes a decade to shift.

She loved his determination- his ambition and desire to make the world a better place. To help others big or small. His almost child like endeaarance towards his idol, spider-man. The way he wants to be just like him and make a difference.

And maybe most of all, she loved how much he cared about his family. His mother Conchata, who was definitely not a peach, and Gabriel who for so long had been competition, the comparison he could never escape. And yet he loved them both dearly. More than anything in the world- even giving up his ideology if it meant saving his brother.

Maybe she was naive to be telling him already. She could see on his face he wasn't ready. He was too calm- too quiet, staring at her face in silence. And maybe that was okay. She could accept if he wasn't ready. She just wanted him to know.

"Esme...." he took a shaking breath, breaking the fragile veil between them. "I..."

She lowered her lips to his, silencing his attempt. He sunk into her, hands sliding to her waist and pulling her closer. Esme found his hair, sowing it between her fingers and gently pressing him further into her kiss.

"Just be with me," she whispered, kissing his jaw. "Please. Don't push me away."

He exhaled, taking another breath and being enveloped in her cinnamon and saffron scent.

"I wouldn't even imagine it." He lifted her up just enough to pull her legs around his waist, kissing her with more haste.

His lips felt like a fever as she drank him like a tonic. Tugging and pulling whatever she could grab, hoping he would stay and not slip from her grasp like all the dreams she had before. That this time, he'd stay. This time, he was real.

"Te quiero." He panted, "Por favor. Oh god."

"Is that Spanglish, Mexicano?" She teased, kissing his neck.

He groaned before suddenly pulling her thighs, her midriff completely flush against his. Esmeralda blushed, gasping in surprise.

"No podrías soportar que te hable completo en español, cariño"

(You couldn't take it if I spoke to you in full Spanish, sweetheart.)

His words tickled her ear before she felt him kiss the side of her neck more, catching her breath.

" ¿Te comió la lengua el ratón*?" He murmured again.

(*cat got your tongue?)

"Cállate." She flushed further, trying to catch her brain up with the present as his kisses continued to make her heart and brain turn to mush.

Esme tried frantically to think of how she could regain control, lifting her fingers to his chest only for his hand to catch her wrist. He guided her lower, pressing them against his torso so she could feel his every breath, feel his skin just below the thin layer she so desperately yearned to remove.

"No. I won't." He pressed her palm flat beneath his shirt, her chest quaking now as she felt his warm skin no longer shielded behind fabric. "Unless, I'm listening to your sweet voice."

"Oh hush. Te quiero." She kissed him.

Miguel chuckled, grasping her hips and suddenly lifting her up as he stood.

"W-woah! Miguel be careful, Por favor!" She yelped, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her out of the tub.

"Is that Spanglish?" He laughed again at her flattened face.

"Don't make me hit you- I'll make your Mexican mom look like a saint."

"Ooo, so scary. How are you gonna hit me with your legs over my shoulders, hmm?" He grinned ear to ear as her face turned completely red.

"¡Oye, Miguel!" She hit his shoulder but he only continued to laugh, carrying her with ease despite her jostling in his arms. "You're getting water everywhere!"

"I don't suppose you'll take your clothes off to dry off then, will you?" He rested her at the edge of the bed, waiting for her reply as his thumb teasingly lifted the hem of her shirt ever so slightly.

"I... can..." she gulped, moving to lift his.

His eyes softened, slowly pulling it higher.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

Esme nodded. "I'm sure."

His fingers pulled off her shirt first like petals off a rose while Esme pulled off his. One by one they were cast to the floor, nothing more than collateral damage. Another puddle in the trail they had left from the bathroom.

The first thing Esme felt was the cold air. Surprisingly enough, she didn't tremble from the cold. No, her senses were already in overdrive. Heightened in anticipation as she felt Miguel's eyes roam down her body, taking in her tan skin while she took in his perfect visage. The scars on his arm, his lower abdomen from the burns and the newly addition on his chest.

She closed the distance first, all so she could run her fingers down that scar. She heard his sharp gasp, but she kept the same amount of pressure as she trailed it all the way just below his ribs. She leaned closer, looking up at him as she kissed it.

"Esme- oh." He groaned.

In a blur she found herself on her back, his frame stationed above her as red pools looked down at her. Everything after was a blur.

A blur of their dark hair intermingling together on the pillow. A blur of his bronze with her honey skin. Breaths tracing the other's skin. Esme's whole world on fire and not because of her this time. No, she was but a tame ember compared to Miguel. He was a wildfire that threatened to devour her whole if she let him. She wanted him to.

She was lost in every kiss, every caress and touch that blessed her features. Unable to control herself from exploring his- gauging every reaction of her fingers tracing his palm and wrists, every kiss on his jaw and neck til she found the spot that left him gasping- practically pleading for more.

"E-Esme, hah~"

And then the dominance would switch in an instant again. Miguel's constant need of control seeped through past even his work life. Needing to pin her wrists above her head. Needing to teasingly nip the corner of her jaw. Needing to grip her legs and pull her up and around his torso so she could feel how much of "te quiero" he meant.

"Mm Miguel," She groaned.

"Shh, let me take care of you." He leaned down, capturing her lips while he moved from her wrists and intertwined his fingers with hers instead.

"Hah~" she groaned softly, her vision blurring.

She usually had a bad memory, but Miguel O'Hara made sure she'd never forget his name.

This is the closest you guys are ever gonna get. You ain't ever gonna catch me writing smut- got too much on the line 😭

🏃‍♀️ 💨