Summary: Now that Ethan's kissed you - on the cheek - your emotions wage war and you realize you care more about Ethan than you care to admit...
Warnings: Mild language I guess?
A/N: Finally whipped this conclusion up! I know I started this miniseries forever ago but anyways, here's part three! I'm trying not to do long One-Shot miniseries because I have two fanfics to write and school things to write as well so...yeah. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this conclusion to House Arrest!
Words: 2908
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"Goodnight, (Y/N)..."
Through the usual morning fog, you reach up to your face and gently run your fingertips across your cheek bone. The skin tingles, remembering the warmth of Ethan's lips. The fleeting kiss that haunted every one of your dreams and will certainly follow you around for the rest of the day. You groan, and pull your hand away from your cheek. Butterflies flit about your stomach while your head pulses. You blink away the mist coating your eyes, catching the sun's first rays that peek into your bedroom. As your vision clears, you kick back your blankets from the web they've formed around your ankles and drop onto the floor. The impact resounds throughout the house and you cringe instinctively.
Ethan will surely have heard you and shaken awake...
If he even allowed himself to sleep.
The thought of him bleary eyed and tense, all alone on the couch stabs you in the chest. It's for that very reason that you wanted to stay up with him. You stumble around your room, getting dressed and ready for the day to keep from getting hooked on the past. There's nothing you can do about what happened last night. Ethan made you go to bed, so you obeyed, which, looking back, was very uncharacteristic of you. Your own father complains about your hard head and yet a week into knowing your IMF bodyguard you let him rule your life? You stare down at your hand, hovering over your doorknob and hesitate. All of you is itching to check on Ethan, to hear his voice, the same tender voice that he bid you goodnight with and feel his flesh brush yours. Maybe it won't be his lips...but a hand? Or an arm or anything really.
Just imagining your knees knocking as you sit on the couch tackles you with a ticklish sensation. You blush and shake your head.
The fluttering refuses to relent so you ignore it and push your door open.
The house is absolutely still.
Which means...
A smile graces your lips. Ethan.
Your heart swells at the sight of him clocked out on the couch. His head rests on the back of the couch, craned uncomfortably to the left. Even in his sleep, his hand lays less than a reach away from his gun. On tip toe, you creep towards him and very slowly pick up his weapon. Ethan twitches in his sleep. A nerve in his neck locks and releases and he sinks further into the cushions. You can't help but giggle under your breath as you set the firearm on the coffee table where he can't accidentally shoot you with it. While being shot would hurt like Hell. A pain you'd prefer not to familiarize, it would almost be worse for Ethan to live with the guilt of having shot you out of an Agent's reflex.
Once the danger is cleared, you pick up a blanket off the other sofa and shake it open. Then, you carefully drape it over Ethan, making sure to cover every inch of his body save his head. Ethan murmurs something incoherent but stays relatively still. You tuck the blanket around Ethan's shoulders and under his arms. As you fit the cloth to his form, you can't help but graze your hands along the muscle now hidden. Your eyes flicker up to his face, relieved to see him fast asleep. Your heart softens, melting for the IMF Agent. The burden he bears day to day in protecting you is gone, but only for this moment. Right now, the crease you've noted between his brows when you've caught him pensive or concerned is nowhere to be seen. It's merely soft, malleable flesh between relaxed brows, and heavy lids.
Even his mouth seems to sag.
The facial muscles so free, they droop.
Smiling, you gently stroke Ethan's cheek...
What happens when this ends?
The question startles you. You draw back your hand immediately and rise to your feet, scrambling for the kitchen. What happens when the job is done and he has to leave? You repeat though you know the answer.
Ethan will leave.
He'll have other missions.
Other people to save and...and protect.
Not you.
You swallow hard, corking the oncoming tears.
Why on Earth do you care where Ethan goes or how he leaves? He's only ever been a bodyguard. He was never meant to be more! Neither of you were meant to be...
"(Y/N)?"
"Ethan!" You gasp and whirl around, backed right up against the kitchen counter. "Sorry, I...I didn't think you'd wake so soon."
"Me neither..." Ethan murmurs, rubbing the heel of his hand into both eyes. "I'm...really tired."
"Guess staying up late consecutively will do that to ya, huh?" You retort, suddenly feeling yourself again.
The sass is comin' back.
Ethan grins. His hands fall from his face and he rocks his head side to side, chuckling lightly. "You sure are something..."
"Something super awesome! Oh, and nice, because I was about to make you breakfast you slug."
"Slug? Me?" Ethan exclaims.
"Mhmmm," You nod, quirking a suggestive brow. "You longue on the couch all morning and leave me to cook and think you can get away with it?"
Despite Ethan's attempts to play along, his fake frown curls into an amused smile. He shakes his head again. "Unbelievable."
"C'mon! Let's make some food!"
Ethan groans but gets off the couch and stumbles into the kitchen where you wait, a spatula in hand. Together you whip up a delicious start to the day. While the work is a pleasant distraction from your sobering thoughts and worries, they can't vanish. In fact, ignoring them is possibly worse than addressing them. They retreat to the back of your head, like a snake in the water, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Whether that's in the middle of training with Ethan or sitting on the toilet, the effects remain the same. Fear and sorrow. Fear of losing this new found happiness and sadness at the thought of being so lonely again. Ethan's entertainment, yes, but he's more than that! He's a human being. He's a person other than your father with whom you share a connection.
Besides...
He's fun to...well...some would call it flirting -
He makes me feel a way no one else ever has.
The feeling you get whenever Ethan smiles at you, or wrestles you to the ground on the mats, or steps out to the pool without a shirt on, it's that feeling that you dread giving up.
And even though you ponder a solution all day long, by the time the sky grows dark and stars take their places, you're still clueless.
"Hey," The cloud clink of silverware drags you back to the present.
Meeting Ethan's curious gaze, you blush. "Hey."
"Penny for your thoughts?" Ethan offers, raising his glass of water to his lips, anticipation in his eyes.
You bite back a smile. "I dunno...I was hoping for a dime at least..."
"Sometimes I wonder if you even know how to have a proper conversation," Ethan teases.
"I do."
"Really?" Ethan quirks a brow. "So, what's on your mind?"
You.
"Nothing," You lie, prodding at the scraps of food littering your plate with the prongs of your fork. "Just...trying to come up with an idea for tonight. You did say I could stay up with you."
"I did," Ethan nods.
"Okay, so, I was thinking..." You trail off. Great. Now you have to come up with a brilliant idea or Ethan will know you're dodging his original question. Your eyes fly desperately about the kitchen, moving from one cabinet to the next until you catch a distant shimmer from the living room window over Ethan's shoulder. Your breath hitches. The sparkling lights put a smile on your face as you suddenly exclaim, "We should watch the stars!"
If Ethan had any objections, you're sure he would've mentioned them. Luckily, he seems interested. The two of you dump your dishes into the sink, leaving them for later; whether that's tomorrow or in a few hours. On your way out of the kitchen, you flick the artificial lights off. Ethan follows you through the living room where you grab a throw blanket to keep you warm. Once the door's unlocked you slide it open and wait for Ethan. He's bent over the coffee table, hooking something to his side; to his belt.
His gun, you realize.
The slick metal reflects the starlight outside.
Ethan notices your doubt and grimaces. "Just a precaution."
You merely nod and step out of the doorway for him to pass you by. Then, you draw the sliding door shut behind you and venture out into the grassy fields after Ethan. Your bare feet kiss the soft earth. It's a bit chilly, given the temperature's dropped significantly since sunset, but you have a blanket for a reason. As a shiver trembles down your spine, you wrap the shawl tighter around your shoulders and hurry towards Ethan, who's stalking deeper into the backyard. He places each foot down like a pilot, easing a plane onto the runway. With every cricket's chirp or wave of grass, his head snaps this way and that. You stuff your fist into your mouth to keep from laughing. It's not funny at all. Really it's not. He's making sure no psychos are laying in the tall grass like lions, ready to pounce and play captives.
Another shiver rattles your body, worse than the first.
Only this time, it isn't the cold.
"I think we're safe," Ethan states.
"Let's sit here," You suggest, gesturing to the shorter clumps of grass circling around you both.
Ethan nods and lowers himself down onto the ground. You fall down at his side and hug your knees to your chest. The blanket slides off one of your shoulders, exposing it to the frosty night air. Letting out a hiss, you snatch up to the fallen corner and cover not only your shoulder but your legs. The edge of the blanket grazes the tops of your feet, tickling the chilled skin. Ethan's peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, a concerned frown tugging at his lips. You bite your lip and drop your gaze to your feet. Although you can't see, you feel Ethan's eyes shift away from you. A chuckle rumbles in his throat and your face flushes red.
No thanks to the dim atmosphere, the blush is well hidden.
But your racing heart is all too evident.
Too exposed for your liking. As naked as your feet.
Suddenly you feel uncomfortable sitting and lay down completely, keeping your knees bent.
Ethan's eyes dart towards you once more.
This time, you blurt out, "You can relax."
Confusion burns in Ethan's iridescent green irises. "Relax?"
"Yeah," You reply, gulping down the consequent insecurity of your outburst. "You're acting like we're in a war zone. Relax. Enjoy the scenery."
"I can keep watch and enjoy the scenery." Ethan assures you.
"Can you relax and keep watch and enjoy the scenery?"
"Define relax, because in my mind, I am relaxed."
"No. You're calm, sure," You shrug, shoulders tearing at the dirt, and add, "But there's tension all along here..."
You touch your fingers to Ethan's back and ever so slowly run them up his spine, pressing harder the further up you go. Ethan instinctively tenses, his hands clench into fists, but as you drag your hands back the way they came, a sigh rolls off his tongue and his shoulders fall. A pleased smile stretches on your face. The said tension releases. Nervous energy pools out of Ethan's body, seeping through his black t-shirt and drenching your hand. Your breathing quickens as Ethan's fist unfurls, finger by finger. As your touch travels up Ethan's back a second time, he presses his palms into the soil and takes a diver's inhale. Enough oxygen to fill a chasm. The breath before the plunge.
Without warning, Ethan eases himself down beside you.
You yank your hand away before he can crush it. All that muscle accounts for weight and it'd sure as Hell hurt to have that pin your hand to the ground. Both your hands come together, resting atop your stomach. Ethan's wander to the back of his head, where he folds his arms as a sort of pillow. His bicep bulges, highlighted by the stars, contoured by the shadows. You avert your eyes, red hot shame curdling your stomach acids.
It feels wrong to be so attracted to Ethan...
He's your father's man, technically. Your dad hired him to protect you from possible threats and expects you to play host, not aroused little girl in desperate need of a boyfriend.
You sigh. Warm tears fill your eyes, blurring the stars into a searing milky light.
"(Y/N)...something's wrong. I know there's something up, tell me -"
"Tell you what?" You croak, "That I don't want this to be over?"
"Want what to be over?"
Blinded by the starlight, you close your eyes. This is not how you wanted to have this conversation. In fact, you didn't want to speak at all out here. What you wanted was quiet. A delicious silence with Ethan right beside you and nothing around but nature and the heavens above. But of course, nothing ever goes as you'd expect, or hope, or want. Your father is out messing with politicians who don't give a damn about his life or that it's on the line, and here you lay, in the comforts of your own home, with a man you've all but fallen for and you're crying silent tears. The silence hurts. It's like you've swallowed a razor sharp sword and each time you strangle your thoughts and sobs, it slips deep down your throat.
"I don't want you to leave, dammit! I don't..." You hiccup and furiously wipe away the slick tracks running down your cheeks. "I don't want you to go. I'm always alone here. Just me and dad and I...I thought you'd be annoying and boring but you're so amazing and you laugh at my jokes and like my cupcakes and we both love movies, all the same movies, and I just - I couldn't ever forget you if I tried!"
Ethan rolls onto his side, looming over you and says in a voice thick with emotion, "You don't have to forget."
"But..." You take a shuddering breath. "But you'll have to leave. You'll have other missions -"
"I can come back." Ethan argues. "I will comeback. I'm not always on the field. I have a home, I have other friends, I - I won't disappear."
"What if you forget?"
"I won't," Ethan promises. He clasps both your hands in his, pressing them to your stomach. You stare up into his face, praying that everything he says is true. You've read too many books, seen too many movies, where a man says these things to a girl but all of it is a pretty lie. Sweet words, sour truths. Nothing but temporary delights. You search Ethan's eyes, probing every glimmer, every shadow. There's a hard edge to his gaze, sharper than the sword lodged in your throat. It pierces your heart and cuts open your chest. As you gaze deep into Ethan's eyes, a sudden smile breaks out on your face.
"You mean it?" You gasp.
Ethan flashes a dazzling grin. "Every word."
You breathe a sigh of relief and look back at the stars.
For a while, the two of you lay silently side by side, simply staring at the night sky, just like you'd wanted.
But then, you have to go and ruin the moment. "Damn...I thought you might be tricking me for a second there."
Ethan laughs. "(Y/N)," He begins warily. "You drive me crazy."
"I know right? It's a wonder I haven't gotten killed."
"It's a wonder I haven't killed you myself," Ethan retorts.
You laugh and roll onto your side, facing the exasperated IMF Agent and smirk. "You couldn't kill me if you tried, Agent Hunt."
"And why's that?"
"Because," You state, lifting your chin defiantly. "You love me too much."
The corners of Ethan's mouth turn up. He stares at you in pure adoration. The yearning in his eyes burns a hole through your heart. It breathes life into your lungs. But most of all, it gives you an unexplainable courage.
Unless that's just you being impulsive.
Impulse or not, you bend down and kiss Ethan square on the mouth.
He cups your jaw in one hand and wraps the other arm around your middle, pulling you flush against his side, half bent over his chest. Your lips move to a dance only you two know. The kiss starts fast but ends slow. As you break away to breathe, your lips linger over each other's, sharing one another's air.
Ethan raises his forehead to meet yours. "I do love you, you know."
"Yeah...I hoped so..."
"And I'm going to protect you, even when your dad comes back."
You frown. "But...your job will be over."
Ethan closes his eyes and shakes his head, rubbing his forehead against yours. "His job, not mine. I'm here to protect you. To always protect you..."
"Always is a long time, Mr. Hunt." You tease.
"Good," Ethan opens his eyes and kisses you softly. "Because I'm not ready to let you go just yet."