She listened to the silence, paying close attention to the sounds of his breath and the beat of his heart.

"Why are we in a safe house?"

He rolled off of her, slumping down beside her. His eyes refused to meet hers, fearing that the moment they did, he would actually answer her question. He'd struggled to look into those eyes clearly since the moment she was left on his doorstep. There was too much emotion in them, or at least too much that he couldn't fend off. "You're not in any danger, Liv."

"That's not what I asked," she persisted, frowning as she tried to move into his line of sight.

He hummed as he pulled the blankets over them, their heads still down by the footboard of the bed. "Honestly, you don't have anything to worry ab—"

"Don't!" she cut him off. "Don't do that, Elliot. It's not a good color on you. Tell me why you are in a safe house. I know you weren't here yesterday, and we will get back to that in a moment, believe me. Last time anyone knew, you weren't shacked up in the hills of Westchester." She was glaring and she didn't like that. The last thing she wanted was for an argument to erupt.

He stared at her, finally, allowing a sigh of forfeit to escape his lungs. "My security team thought it wouldn't hurt, just in case."

Her brows raised with suspicion. "Just in case of what?"

"You're relentless," he groaned, scrubbing his palms against his face.

She didn't miss a beat. "Yes, and you like that about me. Just in case of what?"

"There was a threat made, nothing serious." He saw instantly from the look on her face that she wasn't going to be as relaxed as he'd hoped. "They tracked down our guy, Liv... they found him."

Her temples tensed as she braced herself. Swallowing away the rock in her throat, she tried to speak. "Yo-you mean... you mean the guy in Santorini?"

"Yes," he answered, finding one of her hands and wrapping his own around it. "They brought him in and he was... agitated. Obviously, he can't do much from Greece. However, he's working with someone here, that much we do know."

"With who?" her lower lip quivered as she looked away from him. He had the kid gloves on and she knew it, yet there wasn't a single ounce of her that was against it either.

"We don't know," he continued, remaining calm. "He wouldn't name names, there's nothing we can do to make him name names. But he did insinuate it was someone at the head office in New York. So, my team pulled me out until they could do an investigation."

"What kind of threat?"

He grumbled, his brows knitting into a frown.

"Elliot, what kind of threat?" she pressed on further.

"He didn't go into much detail with that either. It wasn't a physical harm threat, it was just..." he trailed off, staring at her with disappointment that was really meant to be delivered to his own reflection. "He said the pictures would be leaked."

"Oh god," she shuttered, rolling over to bury her face into his shoulder.

"But we got rid of the pictures, Liv. Our team hacked into the system and got the videos and you smashed his phone," he intervened with his logic as fast as he could, trying to stop the panic before it took her over.

"What does he want? Why is he doing this?"

"That's the worst part," he sighed, pulling her closer against his bare skin. "There isn't a ransom, no blackmail. He wants nothing, so I have nothing to give him. Whatever is meant to come out of this, it can't be bought or given."

She fought off the tears that were close to brimming in her eyes. A thick silence hung over them as she took in what he said. She ran the scenarios through her mind, processing each one as quickly as possible. "So, it's gonna happen whether we like it or not... or if we can stop it before it does."

He nodded. "Exactly,"

The silence returned as he threaded his fingers through her hair. Her cheek nuzzled against him, a helpless sense of sorrow creeping deep into her bones before a horrifying thought crossed her mind. "Elliot..."

"Yes?"

"I smashed his phone..." she paused, her eyes reaching his as they filled with fear. "But I didn't take it with me."

His brows furrowed in confusion at her statement. "Okay? What are you trying to say?"

Chills ran through her entire body, he could feel the goosebumps rising throughout her flesh. She took in a shaky breath as she fought to get the words out. "The photos... they're on the cloud. He still has them."

Eventually, he had managed to move the both of them out of the guestroom and into his bedroom. She had fallen asleep against his warm body, murmuring quietly when he'd picked her up and carried her up the staircase. The weight of her in his arms was heavy enough to know that she hadn't been sleeping well lately.

He had settled her gently into the softer, more worn mattress that he had been sleeping on. In her sated sleep, she had picked up on the overwhelming scent of him, curling closer to the sheets.

He couldn't help but stare down at her in disappointment; he had failed her. He had put everything she worked so hard for on the line. Invincible Mr. Stabler, forgetting that she was not untouchable. He could fight his own tabloid battles, his own scandals and controversy. He did it every day. But she was so fresh and new, even when she didn't want to be.

His selfishness did this to her.

With his head hung low in guilt and exhaustion, he climbed into the other side of the bed and settled under the sheets. He hadn't meant for this to happen. Maybe she knew that, maybe she didn't. He hadn't meant to make this mess and he hadn't meant to leave her behind in it.

He stared at her and the chocolate strands of hair that rested on her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath she took, completely oblivious to the world around her. "I'm sorry," he whispered, tucking the strand behind her ear. "I'm so sorry, Olivia."

When she awoke the next day in an unfamiliar bed, it was the first time in weeks that she hadn't felt the urge to search for him. Every day she had woken without him, her body had looked for him against her will, still drowning in sleep. Now, the scent of him surrounded her as she snuggled closer into the sheets.

Except, his side was empty and disappointment reigned.

Carefully, she tried to recall the events of the last twelve hours, vaguely remembering as he carried her into a different room before she had drifted back to sleep.

Olivia sat up, stretching her arm as she yawned. Her eyes adjusted to the sunlit bedroom, which was fairly different from his home in the city. Back in Manhattan, everything felt so... well, modern. Here, it felt history existed within the walls. Maybe not his history, from what she understood, but the bones of the house were old enough to know someone else's story.

She slipped out from the side of the bed, quietly padding over to the curtains that allowed slivers of sunlight to shine through. When she pulled them aside, a small gasp escaped from her lungs. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling window was a balcony overlooking acres upon acres of land surrounded by a beautiful waterfront. She remembered pulling up the driveway the night before, seeing the house that appeared to be more like a country club than a home.

Classic... that was the word that she had been looking for. This felt like a home, not just the nicest and most modern apartment that money could buy in the city. This was everything someone could ever want in a home. Yet, it was so unlived in.

What a damn shame.

She slowly trailed along the line of windows in the bedroom, opening each curtain to allow more light in.

As beautiful as the home was, it wasn't his home. He knew this, she knew it too. It incited an uncomfortable rage within her. This was supposed to be a calming and relaxing place where one could watch the ripples in the body of water. But she was so damn angry as she overlooked the beauty of the property. He didn't belong here.

No matter what threats loomed, he belonged in the city. He had an empire to reign, a skyline to rule. New York needed the man who always took charge, the man who had more control than anyone else. Hiding out on a lake in Rye was not the Elliot she knew, he wasn't a runner, he was a confronter.

He was a dominator.

If she was ever going to get him back into the city, she needed to remind him of who he was. She was the only one who knew how to do that; the only one who could. The flame in his eyes needed to be lit once again before it died out.

Nothing brought out the beast in him quite like anger did.

Olivia stepped into the kitchen, one of his button-up shirts dangling from her smaller frame. She crossed her arms against her chest and watched him as he drank orange juice straight from the carton.

"Are you a coward, Stabler?" she asked, her voice falling low.

First, the gasoline.

His movements froze as his body stilled. He stood like a statue, perfectly carved out of the finest marble as heat began to rise up his neck. "Excuse me?" he asked, nearly in a growl as he stared directly into her eyes.

Then, the flame.

She stepped closer towards him, still a decent seven feet between the two of them. Her heart sped up as she toed into dangerous territory. "You heard me. I asked, are you a coward, Stabler?"

The juice carton hit the countertop with a thud and she saw the veins in his biceps bulge. "Olivia," he warned, looking as if he was staring directly through her and right past her plan.

"Because last time I checked," she cut him off, sneering at him, "only cowards run and hide. Nice place you've got here, what a perfect little getaway to replicate the idea that you don't have an entire company relying on you back home. A company that you've been neglecting."

"You know damn well that I am not a coward," he glared at her, gripping the edge of the granite kitchen island. They stayed staring at each other, like two cats in a turf war trying to find their opponent's biggest weakness.

"So, why are you here?"

"I already told you, Olivia," he growled. "Security risk, my team sent—"

"Bullshit," she bravely interrupted him, stalking closer towards where he stood. "You can stand there and make excuses but you and I both know that they don't have any sort of higher authority over you, Elliot. They can't force you to do anything. They make recommendations, suggestions. They suggested that you run and hide away in the hills of Westchester, rather than face it... like a real man."

She was digging her own grave and she knew it. However, a simple voice in the back of her head continued to remind her that it was necessary. He needed to be reminded of the rage that could flow in his veins, the power. It was in there somewhere.

He slowly stepped out from behind the kitchen island, furrowed brows as he stared down at her. Each stalking step struck fear into her in the best way; she was poking the beast with a sharp stick. Elliot, her Elliot was just beneath the surface. "A real man, huh?" A hauntingly low chuckle followed his words.

She took a step backward, goading him on. "I think you're scared," she smirked. "I think you'd rather let some spineless little blackmailer call the shots for you. Are you going soft on me, Stabler? Since when does someone other than you make decisions?"

He was towering over her, practically casting a shadow over her entire body. Even in fear, she kept her glare towards him.

"Where's that power, Elliot?" she asked, continuing to walk backward as he walked towards her. "Where'd it all go? The strength? The control? I think I might be right, I think you've gone soft."

Before she knew it, her heels hit the wall behind her, his tall frame fully cornering her. All she could hope was that in the amount of backward steps she had been granted, she had pushed all of the right buttons. She didn't want to feel small under him, but it was necessary for her cause.

He stared down at her, the seconds stretching into a moment of eternity as he searched deep within her eyes. She was playing him and he knew it, doing everything she could to push him over the edge. Just as she thought he was going to walk away, his lips quirked upward into a haunting grin and a shallow chuckle.

Boys... they're just so easy to manipulate. All he needed was a little reminder of who he really was.

Within a split second, she was lifted off the ground and hauled over his shoulder; getting exactly what she wanted. The anger, the rage, all of it was rising to the top, the man he used to be.

"You are so out of line," he growled as he planted her on the ground, pressing her up against the back of the couch.

She wanted more fire in his eyes, it was only embers flying so far. She needed to see the flames in order to know that she was getting what she wanted. With one quick movement, her arm reached up and pulled him down by his neck. His tongue connected with hers in a sloppy kiss, purposely fighting him for the power she knew he wanted.

He reached and gripped tightly on her wrists, forcing them back behind her without breaking the kiss. His teeth nipped harshly at her bottom lip, scraping the delicate skin until it was red and swollen.

As he pulled away, she noticed how harsh his breathing had become. The embers in his eyes were turning into flickering flames the more she goaded him on; and oh how she loved to play with fire.

She wiggled her arms, knowing he would tighten his grip on her wrists. Soon, she felt the burning that his calloused palms created on the sensitive skin. "Do... not... move," he ordered, teeth bared in a snarl.

She didn't blink as she stared at him through her lashes. "Make me," she whispered, wiggling her hips to feel his erection pressed firmly against her thigh. His eyes caught hers, spotting the mischievous glint that sparkled in them.

In yet another rapid movement, she had been spun around and bent forward against the back of the couch. Without warning, his hand came down and struck against her ass, her knees buckling in response. She tried to swallow the moan that came but it broke through her gasping breaths.

He squeezed a cheek, digging his nails into the perfectly rounded skin. She clawed at the couch cushions, hoping they would provide some sort of mercy from the intensity of the perfect burning handprint. "You are wildly defiant, Benson. You know, you could use that mouth for better things than talking back."

His low drawl in her ear sent shivers down her spine.

He couldn't see the smirk on her face from where she was positioned. This is exactly what he needed; a reminder that he was in charge in the only way he would receive the message. His hand struck down again, her entire body jerking under the harsh touch. Once again, he clutched down where the red handprint formed, sending her nerves into a frenzy as she shuttered.

She clawed at the wooden frame of the couch, forcing herself to stand steadily between him and the furniture. "I should leave you here, all hot and bothered," he spoke, his dark timbre warming her despite the coldness of his words.

"Please," she whimpered.

Her words always did know how to make him melt. His fingers danced around the band of her panties before quickly yanking them downward. She couldn't stop herself from moaning as his fingertips grazed the insides of her sensitive thighs. His hand came up, gripping her jaw as he harshly brought his lips to her ear. "But you and I both know I wouldn't do that to you," he whispered, continuing his previous statement.

Without warning, two fingers slid inside of her, ripping the air from her lungs as she once again fell forward against the back of the couch. She didn't need to be told how wet she was, she could feel it the moment he had backed her against the furniture. Her head was swimming with dizziness as he worked her core with his fingers.

The lovemaking from the night previous was nice, but she'd be a stone-cold liar if she said she didn't miss the moments like these. The moments where her control was no longer up to her, but in the hands of someone safe. However, he was oblivious to the fact that in the grand scheme of things, it was her who had him on the strings like a puppet for her plans.

Harmless plans, nonetheless.

Her knees started to buckle as his fingers curled inside of her, but his other arm managed to catch her before she fell. The arm that braced her weight pulled her against his chest, his fingers never leaving the warmth they were within.

"Please," she cried, unaware of what she was begging for.

"Please, what?" he asked, speeding up his pace of fucking her with his fingers. "Please, fuck me? Please, bend me over and fuck me with your tongue? What is it, Olivia? Be more specific."

She wanted to punch him for how cocky he was, and even for how he managed to stay so calm while she was limp in his grip.

"Please fuck me," she managed to choke the words out. "I wanna feel you. Please, let me."

He chuckled low in her ear, withdrawing his fingers. She whimpered at the loss, but was quickly distracted when he picked her up and pinned her against the wall.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as she crashed her lips down onto his. Her hands cupped his cheeks as his tongue fought against hers. From where she was on the wall, she was higher above him, her hair falling forward and framing her face as she leaned down to deepen the kiss.

She wasn't exactly sure how he'd managed to keep her propped up and unbutton his pants at the same time, but she made quick work of discarding the spare shirt of his that she wore. Clothes eventually piled onto the floor beneath them, the warmth of his skin keeping her from catching a chill.

That was another moment when those three unspeakable words nearly slipped out. When she was staring down at him from her place on the wall, her hair casting a shadow on his face as her nails grazed his scruff. She had to catch them before they left her lips, and she barely did.

Instead, she replaced the words with another searing kiss. Somewhere in the mix of movement, he'd lined himself up with her entrance and plunged into her. He swallowed her moans as they burst past her defense of keeping silent. Her hips rolled against him, taking him in deeper with each thrust.

She missed the fire, the fury in his movements.

The taste of his lips was addictive; as soon as she thought she could pull away, the hunger for more had overwhelmed her.

If she closed her eyes tight enough, it felt just the right amount of familiar. As if they were back home in Manhattan, violating every possible surface in his home with ungodly acts. Roughly toeing the line of pleasure and limits. If she just closed her eyes, things were normal again. In the end, that's what they both wanted more than anything.

His thrusts into her sped up, his breathing becoming erratic. He was getting lost in it all, she could feel it. Last night was one thing, this was another. This was what they had gone too long without. The rage in each pump, the volatility and unexplored territory in each step. Last night was bliss, but he missed the sin.

"Fuck me," she whispered devilishly in his ear. She wanted to rile him up, that had been the whole goal; to remind him of who he could be. "Fuck me like you mean it," she always did have a tendency to start topping from the bottom.

He simply growled, digging his nails into her back as he pushed into her as far as he could. His slight change in angle struck her like lightning, a harsh cry falling from her lips. He fucked into her with abandon, doing all he could to milk more reactions from her.

His head fell forward, his mouth latching onto one of her nipples and giving a restricted bite. The feeling of his teeth and the way his cock was pressing every nerve deep inside of her only electrified her more, sending a surge of arousal down to her core.

She didn't bother crying out that her orgasm was approaching, he knew. She knew that he knew because she could feel his as well. He had patterns that she had grown to recognize, like how his pacing became turbulent and his breath would hitch, she knew his climax was on the verge.

When his mouth came away from her nipple, her body lowered down against the wall a few inches. She reclaimed his mouth, seemingly unable to stop herself from doing so lately. He didn't protest, he never did, but they both knew that intimacy was creeping into what would normally be a time of powerplay.

Her orgasm surprised her, having thought that it was still just out of reach. She cried out against his mouth, high-pitched and helpless. The sound made him instinctively hold on tighter to her, hearing how overpowered it had made her feel.

Knowing that he was the cause behind those precious yet filthy moans was what sent him over the edge. He gripped onto her with all of his strength, riding out his orgasm as his cum filled her.

She collapsed in his hold, forgetting just how exhausted he could make her. As the aftershocks of her orgasm rippled through her body, her hand gripped the back of his neck as her face fell to his shoulder.

She walked out of the bedroom, her dress from the night before back on her body. Her head dipped to the side as she watched him concentrate on the screen on his laptop. "I think I'm gonna head home."

His head shot up with worry in his eyes. "Wait, what? Why?"

She set her purse down on a nearby surface. "This isn't reality, Elliot," she whispered sadly. "I can't stay here forever and pretend like nothing is happening outside of these walls. Neither can you."

"Liv—"

"Don't," she put her hand up in a gentle protest. "Just don't."

His voice was soft and weak, one of the most vulnerable sounds she had ever heard from him. "But I don't want to be without you,"

"Then come with me!" she urged, taking a step closer. "Nobody is forcing you to stay here! Just take my hand and get in the back seat of the car and we can go home together."

His eyes closed and she watched as he mustered up the strength to make his decision. "I can't,"

She nodded, moving to turn away before a flash of frustration ripped through her.

"You know, Elliot... I'm the one who is really at risk here." She stated boldly. "Yeah, you have a company to run but you have the double standard on your side. Screwing your assistant? That's expected of you, it's practically a rite of passage in the world of CEO scandals. But I don't have that luxury. If those pictures leak, I'm done. Yet, I still show up to work every single day despite the fact that at any given moment, I'm gonna be Monica Lewinsky and you'll just keep being able to be Bill Clinton."

He stared at her in disbelief, a hint of heartbreak glimmering on his face. "Don't you think I know that?"

"No! I don't! Why should I?" she laughed sarcastically. "You're here, you're hiding and you don't even have that much to be afraid of! Your career would jump right back on track a few weeks later as soon as Page Six is refocusing on a Kardashian baby or a celebrity engagement. Meanwhile, I won't be able to get a decent job within a five-hundred-mile radius of the city. How is it that I can show up to work with the scarlet letter but you can't?"

He didn't answer, allowing the both of them a moment to cool down before things would get any more out of hand.

He couldn't tell her the whole truth. He couldn't just blurt out that he thought things would be easier if he were away from her. God forbid the pictures did come out, being seen together would be even worse for her. Him being in exile was meant for her, not for himself.

"Look," she sighed, stepping towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going home because I have a job to do," she spoke calmly, trying to gain access to his eyes. "I hope you'll do the same, because this? This isn't the Elliot Stabler that I know and... care about. And when you're ready to be a member of society again; and to be a leader again, I'll be there, ready and waiting to be by your side," she leaned down and kissed him delicately on the cheek before grabbing her bag.

She made it to the door before turning and spotting him with his head hung. A deep sigh emitted from her lungs before she turned back and let herself out through the front door. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, painting the sky into a beautiful mural that she didn't have the energy to appreciate. Skylar was waiting beside the vehicle, holding the door open for her.

"Back to the city, please," she mumbled, sliding into the back seat. Her head fell back against the leather headrest as she exhaled, too tired to cry, too tired to care.

Olivia trudged into work, closing her umbrella as she navigated through the lobby. It was an hour earlier than her normal arrival, which meant no coffee run and breakfast that barely counted as a meal.

She made it past the confused faces that stared at her on her way up, leaving her just as confused as she was.

She held up her phone in the air, waving around the unlocked screen with the opened email. "Any reason I need to be here an hour early?" she asked Casey as soon as she made it towards their corner of the office. "Everyone is staring at me like I just killed their firstborn child."

"I didn't send the email, we all thought you did," Casey replied sipping her cup of coffee. "It came from the corporate account, something about a meeting. Stabler usually tells you to send those emails out."

Olivia stopped in her tracks. "A meeting?" her blood went cold. "A meeting that requires... everyone? I can safely say that I did not send out that email."

"Well, someone must've called IT and told them to send it. Wasn't you, wasn't me, whatever it is it better be well worth the early day." Casey responded.

Olivia nodded cautiously, turning on her heel to set her bag and coat down at her desk. She rushed off to the bathroom, locking the door behind her as she took her phone out once more. She landed on Elliot's private cell number and dialed.

Paranoia was settling in faster than she could ward it off. The line continued to trill until she was hit with his voicemail.

"Hey, you've reached Elliot Stabler. Leave a message at the tone,"

"Elliot, I'm worried," she said. "IT sent out a mass email about an early meeting today, it didn't come from me or Casey. What if it— just call me back, okay?"

She dialed again... nothing.

"Hey, you've reached Elliot Stabler. Leave a message at the tone,"

"Seriously, El. I'm panicking. Either call me back or get here soon because I don't have a very good feeling about this. If you know anything, please tell me now."

"Hey, you've reached Elliot Stabler. Leave a message at the tone,"

"God damnit, Elliot! Pick up the phone!"

"Hey, you've reached Elliot Stabler. Leave a message at the tone,"

"Alright... I won't call you again after this. But if someone called this meeting as a way to leak the pictures and you're not here," she paused, forcing away the lump in her throat. "I won't ever forgive you for this."

She let out a tearless sob as she ended the last call. She began to mentally plan out escape routes to get her out before whatever was about to happen. Her hands braced the sink countertop as she forced herself to breathe deeply.

A knock on the locked door pulled her awareness back to the present moment. "Liv?" she exhaled as soon as she recognized Casey's voice on the other side of the door. "They want us gathered in the office."

"Be right out!" she answered back, double-checking in the mirror to make sure her makeup hadn't smudged. The longer she stood there, the more escape routes popped into her mind. She could run like hell right out of the front door. She could slip out and take the service elevator up to his apartment. She could pull the fire alarm.

Instead, she put on a brave face and unlocked the bathroom door. Although she felt as if she were off to her execution, she did her best to hide it. At least two hundred people had filled the open lobby-esque office space. Familiar faces looked in her direction as she joined the chattering crowd. Ed Tucker was staring daggers at her but she told herself it was just paranoia.

This would be it. Someone would drop a banner with her photo on it, naked in a pool in Santorini with the boss. Her life would be over before it even started. Dread filled her every nerve, exhausting her before she even had time to live out the day.

Just like that, the room fell dead silent. From where the hallway cornered off, she saw him stride in with a fresh suit and a clean shave. Her jaw dropped as he walked towards the center of the room, his eyes connecting with hers.

"Elliot," she whispered, not loud enough for anyone around her to hear, despite the proximity.

He had pride in his eyes, looking at her as if she had solved all of his problems. Meanwhile, all she could muster up was shock. "Good morning everyone, thank you all for finding the time to come in early," he greeted the crowd, barely taking his eyes off of her.

"To be honest, it wasn't my plan to be here today," he chuckled. "Before you ask, no, I have not been on vacation. I'll spare you the details, but I came to apologize to you all."

The crowd of employees and board members exchanged confused glances.

Elliot continued on. "As CEO, it's my job to be a leader. Having been gone for the past two weeks was not the proper way for me to show how much I value this company and my position as a leader. Better yet, how much I value each and every one of you. During the past two weeks, I thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was being a coward... again, I'll spare the details. But I've thought about it, and someone managed to remind me that leadership is not just a position, it's an action, and it's meant to be earned," he smiled softly. Olivia eyed him with pride, a grin creeping upon her lips as her head bowed down.

"So, I want to say that I'm sorry that I've neglected my role and it will not happen again. Also, thank you to all of you who kept this business running strongly in my absence. Your loyalty and hard work has not gone unnoticed. Now that I'm back, I'm dedicated to not only our company growing stronger but also to us growing as a family. That's what we are here, a family. We look out for each other, we care for one another, and we work our hardest to provide the world with new ideas and advancements. I couldn't be any prouder than I am right now."

Olivia's heart pounded in her chest as she watched him embody the man she once knew. The man she had missed so damn much. Her Elliot.

"And, as a token of my gratitude, I've worked out a deal with HR granting everyone here an extra two weeks of paid vacation," he chuckled as faces in the crowd lit up with excitement. "Thank you, everyone. Now, back to work."

The crowd dispersed but Olivia stayed planted where she stood, smiling gently as he took cautious steps towards her. His smile matched hers with only a hint of smugness.

"Welcome back, Mr. Stabler," she whispered, maintaining her appropriate distance from him. Although, both of them knew how badly she was ready to jump in his arms and kiss him.

He chuckled, bowing his head down. "You were right, I was being a coward."

"But you're here now," she forced herself to refrain from reaching out to caress his chest. "That's what matters,"

"I suppose you're right. Thank you for showing me the error of my ways," he laughed again, earning an even more prideful smile from her in return.

"So," she turned, facing his main office at the end of the hall as she moved to stand beside him. "I believe your empire awaits,"

Her eyes cast up to him, meeting his stare. Her cheeks hurt from smiling, and as did his.

There was always one thing that could never be torn down without a fight; a united front.