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Today was a worse day emotionally than yesterday, but I managed 1750 words today of a for-fun project involving my characters Savin and Mitchel. I actually finished the last chapter of that project — without even realizing I was writing the last chapter. It’s a little not-safe-for-work (okay, very, but also less um…detailed than my usual, considering). 

Yes, I write fanfiction of my own stuff to make myself feel better. Bite me. 😉 Without further ado, part of the ending to “Out of Control.” 😀

Before I can stop myself, I grab his hand and pull him from the couch and into my lap. “You’re not a replacement,” I breathe, my voice totally sounding as fucking desperate as I feel. My hands are shaking as I cup his face in both hands before pressing my lips to his. Mitchel stiffens under my touch but doesn’t move away. 

Please,” I beg as I break the kiss, no longer giving a fuck if Mitchel continues to see me cry. I bury my head in his shoulder. “I can’t — I don’t want to lose you, too.” 

Mitchel sighs, his arms wrapping around me hesitantly. “Savin, I can’t trust that I’m not simply a replacement for Callahan,” he whispers against my ear. “You love him.”

“I do,” I admit, nodding my head. “But –”

“You won’t let yourself be with him.”

“Yes, but –”

“If he offered himself to you, would you even hesitate to take him back? I sincerely doubt you would.”

But he did. He did already. Even tried to say that what I did wasn’t me — tried to justify it, tried to excuse it. I tense in Mitchel’s arms, straightening myself out so I can look him in the eye. “He already did,” I tell him, my voice surprisingly strong. Mitchel blinks and looks away, a thoughtful frown on his face.

“What did you tell him?” he asks finally, that frown still there. 

“I made it perfectly fucking clear that it wasn’t gonna happen,” I answer. Mitchel shifts his weight so that he’s sitting beside me and not on me in my chair. The bastard avoids my eyes, letting his arms fall away from me. Obviously he’s not fucking convinced, and I totally don’t know how to convince him, either. Still, my mouth keeps on moving without my consent. “I want to try, Mitchel. I wanna see if this –” I gesture between us, “can really fucking work. Obviously we have ridiculous sexual chemistry, but –”

“What if that’s all we have?” he finishes for me, raising an eyebrow. I falter before swallowing thickly and nodding my head. He purses his lips together, his fingers moving to stroke his chin. Mitchel then looks away. “Do you honestly want to find out if that’s all there is?” 

“It would suck if that’s all there was, but — how the hell are we gonna find out if we don’t try?” I ask, reaching for his hand. I interlock our fingers together, giving them a tight squeeze. “For whatever fucking reason, I actually like you, Mitchel. I want to see where this goes. I wouldn’t — I wouldn’t have come back the other night, if I didn’t want to. I would have stayed with him.”

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