A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and Ashlyn walked towards the living room, her hand tangling in her hair. Before she made it to the sofa, she turned suddenly on Derek.

I thought I knew how to say what I wanted to say. I've been thinking about this, about us all afternoon. But no words seem right to explain how I feel, and I just... Her hands moved in a flurry, and she was sure that Derek wouldn't have caught many of them. She felt frustrated. Why did the words have to be so complicated to find?

She turned on the spot again and fell onto the sofa with a huff. Her hands covered her face, her fingertips massaging her temple to kickstart the part of her brain responsible for the emotions that had all too willingly plagued her earlier.

The sofa dipped beside her, a shoulder bumping against hers. Firm hands covered Ashlyn's and pulled them away from her face. Tucking her hands inside of his own, Derek shifted so that he faced her.

"We do this at your pace, remember? I'm not going anywhere, however long it takes," he spoke softly, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. "When you're ready to talk, we'll talk," he added.

Ashlyn looked down at their clasped hands and squeezed. Words would never be enough to capture her appreciation for the patience he displayed.

The lack of words now, when she'd thought of so many things to say earlier, was puzzling. She didn't understand how all thought could seize so quickly, leaving her a bumbling fool, her intentions behind this visit rendered pointless.

The look she gave Derek was apologetic, her frustration with herself tainting the set of her lips and the crease in her brow.

"Why don't we watch a movie? Have a quiet night in?" He brushed a curl back from her cheek, his finger smoothing the lines in her forehead. "I've never seen The Princess Bride, you know." He chuckled.

Ashlyn raised a brow in disbelief. She waited for him to deny it, to admit it was a joke but he didn't. She disengaged her hands from his and turned to face him, scrutinizing his expression, searching for the sign that he was lying.

Wait, you're serious? She asked. This man who had entire bookshelves dedicated to Romantic Classics hadn't watched one of the greatest classics of all time? She found it hard to believe.

No, you're lying. She chuckled and shoved him with a cushion.

"I'm not, I swear." He laughed, fending off her playful attack. He caught her hands in his and held them in his lap, fiddling with her fingers. "My grandmother used to read me the book whenever I was sick. We were going to watch the movie together when I was a little older, but then she passed, and well." He shrugged, the patterns he drew on the back of her hand, causing a tingle to course through her.

Ashlyn hoped that her sorrow was evident in the set of her eyes. She knew all too well the pain of losing someone before you got to do all the things you'd planned to do together.

Derek cleared his throat and placed her hands back in her lap.

"I'm going to grab the movie. Will you wait here? Please?" Derek stood and walked towards his bedroom, stopping once in the doorway to make sure that she hadn't moved.

Ashlyn waved, her chest rising and falling with the silent rumble of laughter.

Several seconds later, Derek returned with his laptop and the DVD. While he got everything set up, Ashlyn made herself comfortable on the sofa, tucking one of her legs against her chest, her chin resting atop the knee.

Derek moved quickly, muted mumblings filling the silence when he struggled to get the sound to work.

An adoring smile slowly formed on Ashlyn's lips while she watched him. The way the knots in his spine rolled when he tried to jiggle some plugs, and the little tuft of hair at the back of his neck that shifted against the collar of his shirt. Her clasped fingers itched to reach over and brush his hair, to smooth away the knots that lined his spine. Instead, she drummed her fingers on the back of her hands to alleviate the urge.

Derek turned to her with a wide grin plastered on his face, the words of the sick boy's grandfather clear behind him. Ashlyn giggled and shuffled over on the sofa so Derek could sit. He sat, maintaining an arms space between the two of them, his hands clasped in his lap, and Ashlyn had to admit that she was a little disappointed.

After his love declaration, and the ease with which he'd touched her previously, Ashlyn had hoped that he'd at least be a little more relaxed around her. Once again, she found herself frustrated with the words of admiration that continued to lodge themself in her throat, blaming them for this awkwardness that manifested between them.

Perhaps if she'd spoken when she'd had the chance, this distance wouldn't have existed between them now. Then again, he'd always been gentle and patient with her, and what was it he'd said before? We do this at your pace?

This was what he thought she wanted. Space, and to take things one step at a time. But now, she wasn't so sure. She'd be lying if she didn't say that she'd liked that he was relaxed around her, familiar. As much as his presence in her life had caused flip-flops and tornadoes in her stomach, she craved it more and more. It was the promise of something more that she clung to as she rode out each storm.

From the corner of her eye, Ashlyn watched Derek, the apparent control that he was displaying, and she felt something stir. The circumstances between them were anything but favorable, and she knew that if his unspoken desires were anything like hers, it wouldn't be easy for him to hold back.

She didn't want him to hold back.

She observed as he shifted, his knuckles whitening with his restraint. It took all of her efforts not to groan.

Reluctantly she returned her focus to the screen, the story of Westley and Buttercup that continued to play out on the screen. During her favorite scenes and quotes, Ashlyn found herself stealing peeks of Derek to see how he might react. She laughed when he laughed and cringed when he cringed. She was most relieved, however, to see that as the movie progressed, his muscles relaxed, his arm falling into the space between them.

Slowly the knot that her fingers formed around her knee unraveled, and her hand rested on her other thigh. Ashlyn kept her gaze trained on Derek, her hand sliding down the side of her leg and into the space between them.

A hair span remained between their fingers, and ever so carefully, Ashlyn's pinky finger reached across to touch his, the rest of her fingers quivering in anticipation of his touch.

Derek mirrored her slow movements, his hand turning over so that the back of his hand caressed hers, before he placed it down, palm up, waiting for her next move.

Ashlyn's pinky hooked on his thumb, her hand turning so that their palms came together. Her fingers wrapped around the back of his hand as his fingers closed over the top of hers in an awkward embrace.

Her eyelashes fluttered, watching their hands and the contact that felt so right.

They remained like that, hands clasped between them while Westley continued his pursuit after Buttercup. When Ashlyn's thumb grazed his wrist, she found enjoyment in the way that his breath hitched. And he was always sure to return the favor, his fingertips tracing the patterns in the back of her hand, causing goosebumps to flood her arm.

During the rodent battle in the Fire Swamp, an unexpected shiver ran through Ashlyn, whether from the thrill of the scene, or the chill of the night, she couldn't say. Suddenly, Derek held her hand no more, the absence of his warmth mourned.

"Are you cold?" He asked, leaning forward to pause the movie.

Ashlyn shook her head at the same moment another shiver possessed her, her lips trembling.

His chuckle was low, amused. Derek stood and closed the balcony doors, while Ashlyn waited on the sofa, rubbing her arms to alleviate the goosebumps. In her shorts and t-shirt, she reprimanded herself for failing to bring a coat, once again. Perhaps one day, she would remember.

A moment later, the sofa sank once again, and a thick blanket draped over her. Derek's hands were meticulous, tucking the blanket around her legs and her shoulders, making sure that nothing but her head was exposed. She felt like a baby, her arms and legs constricted.

Ashlyn leaned her head back against the couch and turned her head to look at Derek as he settled back into the sofa after pressing play. She rolled her eyes at the innocent grin he gave.

Westley's battle against the dark terrors of the forest resumed, and Ashlyn tried her best to focus on the screen. But, when Derek's hands returned to his lap, and the distance between them expanded yet again, Ashlyn couldn't take it anymore. This extra caution that had not existed before this night was getting out of hand.

Wriggling her arms beneath the blanket, Ashlyn pulled them out and shifted her weight so that she leaned against Derek's side. She reached over him and draped the blanket over his legs and his chest, noticing for the first time how cold his flesh was.

When she was done, her palm rested against his chest, the steady beating of his heart beneath it accelerating the longer her hand remained. Hot breath stirred in her bangs, shaking with each exhale.

She leaned her head back, her cheek resting against his shoulder and smiled up at Derek. His heated gaze looked down on her, and his lips parted slightly with the air she stole from his lungs. Ever so gently, he raised the arm that she rested on and reached around her shoulders, tucking her against his side. He rested his chin on top of her head.

Under the weight of his chin, held in the comfort of his embrace, Ashlyn felt whole and at peace. She burrowed in closer, her hand remaining over his chest, her cheek pressed close to his heart. The sound of his heart which beat with his love for her and the gentle caress of his fingers against her shoulder washed over her, like a cleansing wave. Suddenly everything she wanted to say to him, everything she felt for him was crystal clear again, the murky waters of earlier distilled.

But all of these words could wait for tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to enjoy this moment of peaceful bliss with Derek.

Ashlyn didn't know where this newfound boldness had come from, nor how she was capable of accepting the beginnings of love that had begun to bloom within her heart, but perhaps that time at the lighthouse had woken something in her that had long been dormant.

When the film debated the concept of true love, Ashlyn found herself smiling stupidly at the screen as she snuggled closer against Derek's side. Fairytale or real, she'd glimpsed for the first time a peek at true love, and she had no intention of letting it slip through her fingers. Not today. Not tomorrow. And never in the dreams that she dreamed, held in the arms of the man who possessed such fairytale magic.

A cold breeze tangled in her toes and Ashlyn groaned, clutching the blanket tighter. Her muscles ached and groaned in protest as she drew her knees closer to her chest.

Something beneath her creaked, and she frowned in her sleep. Her bed hadn't done that before. Her nose twitched when she inhaled several frayed fibers, the taste of crisp apple sticking to the roof of her mouth. But she didn't have any apple scented products. The only time she came into contact with any was when... oh no.

Her eyes snapped open suddenly, and she jolted upright. When the stars in her vision settled, and the spinning stopped, her eyes danced around the room she found herself in.

Everything was familiar, even shrouded in darkness, right down to the small coffee table and laptop set upon it, lights still blinking. Ashlyn continued to look around the room, eyes squinting to focus on the beanbag that was tossed in the corner, a shirt carelessly draped over it. It was the guitar that stood behind it, however, that had her search freezing. Liam's guitar. She was in Derek's apartment, wrapped in a blanket on his couch.

The air stirred again, a chilly wind brushing over the goosebumps that formed on Ashlyn's arms. Glancing to the right, she saw that the balcony door stood wide open, fairy lights twinkling against the new colors of dawn. Tiny fractals of light bounced upon the bare back and arms that filled the doorway, and Ashlyn blanched at the sight.

OH MY GOD! She thought, widened eyes checking that she was still clothed beneath the blanket. Her shorts had rolled up to hug her legs tightly, and her shirt was hitched, but her clothes were still there.

Ashlyn breathed a sigh of relief, swinging her legs around so that her feet gently hit the floor. Massaging her temples, she tried to replay the night, filling in the gaps.

The last thing she remembered was the steady thumping of Derek's heart and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as they'd watched The Princess Bride together, or at least, tried to. Her hand cupped her cheek, the same one that had been pressed to his chest, shaky breaths tickling her wrist.

She couldn't remember anything after that. The ending of the movie, and how she'd ended up asleep on his couch blissfully dreaming of apple trees and fairytale kisses, were a blur. Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall anything from the moments before she'd fallen asleep.

A muted cough came from outside, and Ashlyn's gaze cut in Derek's direction. His back remained to her, his shoulders quaking with the force before he leaned forward again against the railing. The inclination of his head told her that he was looking at something distant—the teasing colors of the impending sunrise, perhaps.

Ashlyn smiled at his back, her thumb between her teeth in thought. After only a second's hesitation, Ashlyn stood and held the blanket loosely around her shoulders. Quietly she approached Derek, spurred on by the beauty of the view, and the company that awaited.

The balcony was cold beneath her feet, and she bit back a gasp. But it was too late. Derek had already sensed her approaching. The smile that he turned on her was warm and inviting, drawing her closer into his trap, while it made her insides melt.

"Morning," he said, his voice raspy from sleep.

'Morning,' she mouthed in response, clutching the blanket tighter against the crisp morning air. His gaze remained fixed on hers as she smiled softly, before turning to look out over the horizon.

The hues of purples and oranges that peeked beyond the ocean's edge were magnificent at this time. She couldn't believe how many of these she'd missed.

"Coffee?" Derek asked, holding his mug out to her.

Ashlyn looked from the softened edges of his illuminated face to the cup he held and nodded.

The taste of hazelnut burst on her tongue at the first sip, and she sighed into the cup, her eyes closing as she savored the flavor. She took another sip, the rising steam warming the tip of her frozen nose.

When enough of the hot liquid had warmed her insides, and her fingertips no longer felt prickly with the cold, she opened her eyes. Derek's face was closer than she remembered, those espresso eyes boring into hers. She couldn't look away, trapped as she was in his gaze.

His fingers were cold against her cheekbone, and her lips parted with her exhale.

"You make these cute little sighs in your sleep, did you know that?" His voice was soft, a warm whisper upon her cheeks.

Ashlyn gulped, her gaze cutting back to the sofa. Her hands shook as she lowered the coffee mug between them, the liquid sloshing inside. She placed it on the railing and took a little step backward.

We didn't...nothing happened...did it? Her hands trembled with the questions she asked. The blanket slipped from her shoulders and pooled around her feet. Her heart raced in her chest, and her palms began to sweat as she again acknowledged that he was shirtless. He knew about the sounds she made in her sleep, sounds she didn't even realize she made.

"Nothing happened, Ash. I would never..." he trailed off, closing the gap between them again. He took her hands in his and lent her the warmth of his own. Derek didn't look at her as he spoke, but she knew that she'd wounded him with her insinuation. She knew that he wouldn't do anything that she didn't consent to, but still, she had to ask.

Gently she pulled one of her hands out of his and placed it against his cheek, her thumb resting beneath his chin. She lifted it so that he looked at her, and the corners of her lips raised in apology.

Derek placed a large hand over hers, trapping it against his cheek.

"I really did mean it when I said that I would wait, Ash. Even if I'm eighty and still waiting, you're worth it." He spoke with desperation; his eyes beseeching her to understand.

An involuntary giggle bubbled on her tongue, and Ashlyn bit it back. She tried to remove her hand to let him know that he wouldn't be waiting that long, but his hold was too tight.

"I know that all of this love stuff is new for you, and to be honest, I don't really know what I'm doing half the time, but I do know that I will do everything I can to make this comfortable for you," his tone softened as he stroked her fingers beneath his.

While he spoke his rushed assurances, Ashlyn watched with a deep admiration in her eyes. Absently she rubbed the padding of her thumb over the shadow across his chin. This was the man she cared so deeply for. The rough around the edges, empathetic, and ever-patient man that had chosen her over every other person he could have been drawn to.

She continued to watch with stunted breaths as he turned his head slightly and brushed his lips across the inside of her wrist. Her lashes fluttered, and her next breath lodged itself in her throat at this tiny, intimate gesture.

The blood that rushed her cheeks came with a bite, the heat of her blush feeling hotter under the cold air. Her free hand pressed against her cheek to hide the evidence of his affection upon her.

Derek pulled his lips away, his gaze never wavering in the way he held hers. Adoring eyes watched her, every emotion he felt for her filling them out, as though they were about to burst.

Ashlyn's chest rose and fell as she gazed back, wondering what his next move would be. Her head was still spinning from the sensation of his lips upon her skin, and though he'd pulled back, she could still feel the warmth of them as though they were permanently branded upon the sensitive flesh. His touch was