TBATE: A Hero's Return

About Damn Time

I was incensed, raging inside my head about all he was doing to me, playing with my feelings that way. I have had complete control of those mad hormones I had ever since puberty for years now, but I was finding it incredibly difficult to manage while being around him or even thinking about him. As I stood in front of his door, my ear flush against the wood, listening for signs of sleep from the other side, I felt my hormones laughing at me, as if they knew I never really had control to begin with.

My stomach flipped over and my heart was beating right out of my chest as I stood there, gathering my courage and trying to hold onto the anger that led me there in the first place. But I had no idea what I was going to say to him and my reasoning was quickly broken down by so much longing and unresolved tension that my hands were starting to shake against the metal knob.

"Damn it," I whispered to myself. What the hell was I even doing? I should be trying to sleep now! I was about to release the doorknob when the door suddenly opened so quickly and with such force that I was yanked into Art's room, my socked feet slipping on the polished floors. I made a yelping sound and felt Art's strong muscular arm go across my lower back as he pulled me up to my feet.

"Whoa," he said, shocked to find me attached to his door. I clung to him, my fingers digging into hard, but soft skin and I quickly noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Oh, god. How I hate him sometimes.

I quickly looked away from his bare, chiseled torso, knowing full well my face would turn scarlet red if I stared at it for too long. "I heard a sound at the door and was wondering what it was."

His face was close to mine because he hadn't let go, and his arm was still wrapped around my waist in an unnecessary attempt to keep me upright. Or maybe the support was needed as I used my other hand to hold onto his shoulder, sliding down his arm as I pushed myself up the rest of the way. My knees were weak and my head cloudy from our proximity and the connection of my hands on the bare skin of his arm and shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously, his eyes darting around my face and body. "Did something happen? Is someone hurt? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," I said as he started feeling my face and arms with his large, strong hands, worry etched on his gorgeous face. It was too much, the sensations going through me at that moment. I tried not to gasp as I extricated myself from his arms, and then quickly walked the rest of the way into his room, and away from his clean and manly scent that was making my brain all mushy. Mushy? Oh, god. My brain has short-circuited; I am losing my vocabulary.

"Okay, good. So then... what are you doing here, Tess? It's past midnight."

"I'm aware of the time, Art," I answered hotly and rolled my eyes. "I couldn't sleep." That was the reason, was it not? I could still feel his warm skin and then his smell, and it all seemed to have wiped my memory.

"Yeah, same here. I am pretty nervous about the talks happening tomorrow," he said with a nod.

I simply nod along with him as I hug myself around the middle, trying desperately not to think too hard about the fact that I am with Art, alone in his bedroom, at midnight.

Someone help me.

"I know Caera is a friend and all, but this is about her continent. She won't play easy tomorrow as it is about the good of Alacrya," Art started pacing and although our conversation was serious my traitorous mind couldn't help but notice the way his bicep flexed when he raised his hand to scratch his chin and the auburn hairs around his navel...

"Do you think Darv would be willing to provide some fire salt for the train project? If we can promise a demo of it working, we can probably trade the tech behind the train for the tech behind the rune card system they have here. I am sure that would be greatly beneficial for the merchants," Art said, trying to be helpful despite being out of his depth.