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Being Her

A series of one-shots in Claire's perspective throughout the series For Her.

Um, will not go in any order. they come as i get bored enough to write them. PSSSTTT if you want a new story, go review with her!

44. And Happiness

Rating 5/5   Word Count 816   Review this Chapter

It’s Quil. You love him. You love Quil.

The words do their magic. As I press myself against him, the warmth soaks through my entire body. My lips crush against him, a gentle force, and he moves with me, pulling me to him, into him, his arms around my shoulders. We sit together on the couch, me unthinkingly on his lap, our lips still entwined.

It is so perfect. He is a fire, soft and hot, burning from my lips down into my heart. And, more amazingly, it is so easy. It is natural, effortless, simple, to be held like this, to cling to him and know he will hold me, he will protect me, he will not hurt me.

Softly, I brush my lips against his one more time, and then I pull away slowly, reluctantly. But I have to breathe.

His voice is deep and awe-struck as he whispers, “That was amazing. Thank you.”

For a moment, guilt floods through me. He’s waited how long for that one kiss? Twenty years?

And then the beauty, the perfection, of it returns to me. “Right back at you. And you’re welcome.”

“So’re you.”

A thought occurs to me. “Oh, Quil?”


“Thanks for the dinner.”

He starts to laugh, his whole chest shaking. I do too, and it feels so good, the humor bubbling out.

When the laughter stops, Quil gently strokes my face. The warm strength of his touch is incredibly soothing- his hand lingers for just one second on my cheek and then drops back to my shoulder.

I smile at him. My legs are on either side of his, resting on the couch, and we’re entwined in a hug.

Quil smiles, but then sighs. “Why could you do that… not that I’m complaining, of course?”

“Well… it’s different. I did the same thing, separated it with my mind. Like I used to… it isn’t me saying I loved him, it’s just ‘aaayy luffvv iooo.’ Nonsense. Nothing. Couldn’t hurt that way. Except this time, I did it differently. Told myself, ‘This is nothing to be afraid of, nothing bad can happen. It’s just Quil. He loves you and you love him and this is what should be happening. It’s right.’”

And it is. I feel like I’d been made for this place, in his arms. It is the opposite of what I’d done when I lied to say I belonged where I didn’t.

“That’s very impressive, sweetheart. Thank you, so much. I see how hard it is for you.”

I press my head against his shoulder so he won’t see the frown on my face or the guilt in my eyes. “I see how hard it is for you, Quil. To look at what I’ve gone through, to sit here and see me in pain. And you go through it all.” It is one of the things I’ve been hiding from him, how awful I feel about his pain. I cringe a little as I wait for his answer, but he doesn’t disappoint me.

“For you? I would do anything. For you I do everything. You’re the reason behind it all, Claire. And I love you. More than you know. Thank you for loving me.”

“You’re welcome.”

I pause for a moment, raising my head to look at Quil’s face as I wrap my arms around his neck.

A blush spreads beneath his dark skin. Grinning, I pull myself even closer to him, closing all the distance between us. I can feel his breath and I share mine with him, the same rhythm, in and out.

“I will never let anyone hurt you, Claire. You are safe. I will hold you close forever.”

His voice is a whisper and a promise and an infinite relief, because I know it is true. He would do anything to assure that vow is never broken. I am here, where I ought to be, and nothing will stand between us again.

I need this, so much. “Thank you,” I murmur.

Quil’s breath blows against my face, sending a few strands of her fluttering against my cheek. His big fingers brush them away. The warmth of his breath and touch send shivers through me.

Oh, I love him.

“Claire,” he whispers. “Claire, Claire, Claire, Claire, Claire.”

Each time he says it there is a new emotion. Simple love, and then desire, and then guilt, and then grief, and then worship, and then adoration, and then delight… I smile with each of them, because each is merely a facet of how totally he loves me.

“I love you.”

I cannot respond. My emotions choke in my throat, but I know he feels me smile against him and it is enough.