We don't want to label it

XXXIV

He takes her back to his place in a haze half created by alcohol, half by what they just did. He's never had sex out in the open like this, he's never had the balls before. Anyone could have seen them and that would have been bad, but now that it's happened and they got away with it all he can feel is pride. It's easy now to push all of the thoughts that have overcrowded his brain away, file them under Intrusive Thoughts For Another Day, enjoy the day he's having right now. He unlocks the door and pushes her in with a wide grin. He's exhausted and victorious and exhilarated all at the same time. Will Brett crash here? Probably, but he's got a key and he knows where the couch is. Or he'll sleep in the studio on the little mat he uses sometimes. Or maybe he'll go with the girl. 
Why is there a pang, somewhere deep inside? He's not sure but it's easily ignored now that Tory leads him to the bedroom and he crashes down beside her. Part of him wants a round two, but he's bone tired after last night, after today. Too tired to shower or brush his teeth, definitely too tired for anything else.
They can have round two in the morning. He pulls off his jeans and plops down on the bed, half asleep once his head touches the pillow. 
"Eddy?" she says gently once's she's beside him, her small hand on his side, her face close enough so he can feel her sweet breath. 
"Hmhm?" 
She chuckles. 
"You tired?"
"Hmhm."
"Tonight was really nice, Eddy. I'd like... I wanted to ask you. I'd like you to think about maybe taking the next step."
Now he opens his eyes.
Wait. Is this the alcohol talking? Has she had some? She must have, right, otherwise no way they would have had sex outside? Fatigue clouds his brain but he needs to know what she means. 
"What are you talking about?"
She grins shyly. 
"Well... if I'd be here more often we could do that. You know. More often. Just you and me."
"What are you talking about?" he repeats as he sits up despite himself. God, he's tired, he can barely keep himself upright. How much sleep has he had this last week? Maybe three hours a night? If that? "You mean... like moving in?" he squeaks.
"Is that a question?" she says sweetly as she, too, sits up and her hand is moving to his lower abdomen. 
"Um, I... what? Tory. We're not... you think we're... ready for something like that?" he stammers as a huge boulder seems to settle on his shoulders and stay there. 
"I am." she says, as coquettishly as he's seen her and it hits him like a sword to the face, like a stab to the heart. Tory, here, all the time? When would he be able to just... be? Does he want this? But he knows, even how he is now, what the ramifications of saying no would be. 
Does he really want to break her heart? 
But just then, just as he's trying to get his tongue under control to form some words that make sense he sees her face fall. And within a flash she's out of bed. Her cheeks colour and her finger points. 
"You! You!" she shrieks. "You've just been leading me on, haven't you! You don't love me at all, do you!"
"Tory!" he tries, backtracking as quickly as he can as the world starts swimming around him and for a moment he thinks he might throw up. "This is... not now. Please. Let me sleep."
"Let you sleep?" she hisses. "After I let you do that to me this is the thanks I get? Fuck you, Eddy!"
He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water as she storms out of his room. Ten seconds later he hears the door close. 
Shit. 
It's two A.M.. She shouldn't be heading out alone, she's not safe. He shoots out of bed and runs after her. 
"Tory!" he calls as he hits the street. "Tory!" He looks around him frantically but she's nowhere to be seen. He runs up the street, then the other way as tears start streaming down his face, but she's nowhere, nowhere.
Has she gone home? Should he head that way? She's not safe... his head swims and he grabs the lamp post on the pavement with one hand, hanging onto it for dear life, trying to focus in the dark, trying to see something, anything. A familiar figure is coming up the street slowly from the direction of the bar and his heart jumps as the world spins around him in a sea of nauseating waves. It's Brett. Oh thank God, it's Brett. 
He's so, so tired. He waves feebly with his free hand, but all at once the adrenaline that's been making him run wears out and his legs buckle underneath him. He can just make out Brett starting to run to him before the world becomes dark. 
"Eddy! Shit!"