Awful sweet, to be a little butterfly (Della)

[Panic]

Panic's ice blue eyes where fixed on the door with such concentration and intensity that any onlookers could safely assume that he was attempting to melt it with some kind of telekinesis. He'd come so far to get to this point, going through countless near coma inducing situations and suffering at least a thousand panic attacks. The amount of times he had to socialize with people was unmentionable, not including that...occurrence in the book store. He had so many cuts and bruises from spills and wild escape attempts that he was certain some of them would never heal, but it was all worth it, even if his gift was lousy. He couldn't give her nothing, but it was so hard to find anything that could possibly be worth such a girl. She deserved something great and, though he was sure he could never give that to her, he did his very best to try. So it was worth it, worth it all just to find a gift for her, even if he still wasn't completely steady on his feet. It was Della's birthday today. Now the only thing that stood between him and the birthday girl, was this big frightening door.

Clutched close to his chest with both hands was a book, concealed by a simple white cloth, the closest Panic would ever get to wrapping (paper resulted in far to many sliver-like cuts). In all truth, He'd have left the book as is and given it to her, but touching it would ruin everything. You see, this was no ordinary book. It took Panic weeks to track it down in some back ally magic shop, he nearly fainted upon entering, but, after a blur of frenzied movement he left with the book in hand. He was careful not to touch it then either, pulling his sleeves over his hands. It was told that this book will record the thoughts of whoever it claims to be its keeper, in other words, whoever touches it. It will remain said persons until that keeper has passed on, in which case the book is again blank until another keeper comes along. Honestly, when Panic saw it in the store, all he noticed was that it was a large book with blank pages. It clicked in his mind that Della wanted to be a writer, like her father, and what better place to write than in a book? He'd gathered enough from the shop owner, through waves of terror while gazing at her smug face, the whole "mind reading if touched" bit. Either way, it was the best thing he could think of to give Della.

Was he supposed to knock? Knocking on the door seemed like the right thing to do and yet, what if she was doing something?! then it would be rude to interrupt her. What of she wasn't even in there? That was a huge possibility that he hadn't even considered. Maybe he should just leave, but then she'd never get this book. Would she really be concerned? It wasn't a great gift, but Panic felt such an extreme need to give her something that running suddenly seemed like less of an option. Maybe he could leave it here for her, but then he didn't write a note or anything, would she be upset and confused if a random gift was left for her. Panic knew he'd never touch the object if it was placed anonymously at his door. It could blow up or something?! Furthermore, he felt like he should let her in on the whole mind reading thing, that could be complicated...just then he was sure he heard something behind him. He let out a rather girlish squeak and dropped the book with a loud thunk as it hit the ground, only to find he was alone in the hallway.

[Deleted]

"You know that I owe you a huge party, right?"

Della rolled her eyes good naturedly as she flipped through her livre du jour, her phone tucked under her shoulder.

"Dad, you know full well that I don't care about that kind of stuff."

"So? You're an old lady now, kiddo." She could practically hear the man wink.

"It's not that big of a deal. It's not like I'm going to start wearing business attire and...well, okay, the coffee ship is sailed, but it was as soon as I hit fourteen, so that has nothing to do with maturity."

"Sure it does. You were an adult since you were ten," her father joked. "In all seriousness, happy birthday sweetheart. I'll let you go for now, I'm sure something exciting is bound to happen today."

Della let out a world weary sigh, but somehow you could tell it wasn't as bad as she was trying to make it sound. "Honestly, what I want for my birthday is for things to be quiet...love you Dad. I'll see you soon."

Now the general plan was to just relax after she had hung up, honestly. Not that Della so desperately needed some R&R time. It just seemed like the best thing to do for the time, that was, until she heard what sounded vaguely like a knock...although she was fairly certain that it would take someone very short to knock so close to the crack under the door. Needless to say, she was puzzled, and maybe a little bit weirded out.

She realized that maybe there was some horror movie logic that was supposed to stop her from checking out that weird noise, especially considering this school's track record. With a slight frown, she checked her pocket for her switchknife and pulled it out before she opened the door....and then she immediately relaxed, letting out a slight laugh.

"I don't need to use this on anyone behind you, do I Panic?" she asked upon realizing he was looking over his shoulder, probably scared half to death, as per usual. Still, she was pretty damn glad to see him.

[Panic]

Upon realizing that the hall was, in fact, empty besides himself, Panic only had time to relax a fraction of a second before a familiar voice reached his ears and had him spinning on his heels to face the girl of his dreams, and of his nightmares. Dreams of her happy, happy with him, or just otherwise loved, nightmares of her sick or dying, of losing her forever, though he never had her in the first place. So many things to see in her eyes, so many fears and desires held captive by her warm brown irises. It was good to see her smile, Panic unconsciously allowed his lips to twitch upward upon seeing her grin. But why was she smiling? Well obviously she was happy, happy why? To see him? Did he dare to dream? Her with her eyes catching the light and her skin so soft and her.....knife?

Panic was snapped back from his fuzzy daydream into sharp reality once his eyes caught the glint of her switch blade. Panic didn't like knives. Guns were better than knives, gun usually were quick and, though initially agonizing, they usually ended up putting him into some painless, drifting coma. Knives caused pain, all sorts of pain, sharp pain, horrible pain, pain that makes you throw up, Panic knew pain well enough to categorize it. Not to mention the amount of times he'd been stabbed, the most recent by none other than the infamous dagger queen, Miss Wil Scarlet. Of whom's return Panic had already learned of. He felt sick, why would Della carry such a thing? Then it dawned on him that she probably carried it to protect herself from people like the very girl whose knife he could still feel sharp in his back.

He managed to tear his gaze away from her weapon and onto the fallen book at his feet. It stared at it for a few seconds, tryong to remember what it was and how it got there. Once it all came back to him, a shock of embarrassment and panic had him darting down to pick it up, careful to keep it covered in its cloth. Once upright again he considered weather to give it to her again, looking between her and the book several times before reaching the same conclusion as he had before and holding it out to her. Ha- his voice caught and he had to swallow before continuing in a quiet tone Happy Birthday.

[Deleted]

Della had sort of expected that the whole knife thing would scare the bejeesus out of Panic, at least she did once she realized that it was Panic and not, say, Redd with an ax...ugggh, great. That was going to be on the nightmare list from here on in. Like an outtake of a bad horror movie. Seriously, she had a feeling that a horror movie about Redd would be just right for the sorts of audiences that lined up to pay $10 on Saw XX or whatever the hell the next installment was. Della didn't know Redd's motivs for being so freaking evil, and in spite of what some thought, it didn't make a villain better. It just made you less likely to at least find them to be ones you enjoyed watching.

As for Panic...he was no villain, even though he acted like he deserved to be punislhed like one, something that Della could never accept. He knew that. What he didn't know was that sometimes she felt like she was a really awful person in comparison, because everything he went through made her own life sound like a freaking sitcom, yet she kept on complaining about it. At least she had never been truly beaten down by someone quite as evil as Hades. At least her father loved her. Panic...he didn't even have that. And it was really part of why she was so determined to do whatever it took to make his life a little easier, even if she failed at that so often, especially during the Dodge era.

Yet those troubling thoughts were veiled under her curious smile, at least until she caught a glimpse of what Panic had bent down to retrieve, even with his efforts to cover it with his cloth. Her eyebrow quirked up ever so slightly, and then he answered whatever questions she hadn't even asked with two simple words. It didn't exactly take a genius to realize what those two words plus a concealed item amounted to. Her expression softened.

"Um, wow, thank you," she responded, and she couldn't help but this that this just cemented her theory that he was far better than he could ever realize. "I don't even know what to really say, uh....oh, come on in, you don't need to stand out there." Her grin returned as she gingerly took one of his hands and led him inside.

[Panic]

There she took it from his trembling hands and he was momentarily relieved until she carefully took his hand in hers to lead him inside and an eruption of conflict riddled his being. For starters, she was touching him again. There, with her hand, gently grasping his like she feared he might have a melt down. That wasn't even a slightly absurd fear. At least she knew him well enough to be cautious about doing such things. Now secondly, she wanted him to go inside her dorm room?! That implied way too many things that he hadn't even been sure existed until he arrived at Avalon, and now Tintagel. Panic hardy stayed in his own dorm. Oh the horrors that could be inside there! Not that he thought Della could live in a horrid environment, but what if she left clothes out?! What if there was another person in there?! It was such a small space for three people! Panic's breathing quickened, he was running out of time as she pulled him forward. Run?! What really was his options?! Could he ever run from Della? That answer, at least, was solid in his mind and just before she pulled him off his balance he stumbled forward.

He stood awkwardly just a few steps into her room feeling tensing and desperate to not look around. His eyes alternated between her and the book she'd taken. He should probably try to explain to her its magical properties before she touched it, but he couldn't form the words in his head let alone speak them. There was a label on this inside apparently that explain things, but then that required touching usually, so he wasn't so sure how much good that would do. Staring, staring, staring. It-its sss-so you c-can b-be a writer he blurted finally. Stupid, stupid! She knew that! Why would he tell her that! Thats not what she needed to know. Oh gods. This was terrible. Maybe he should just pass out. No, no, then she'd have an unconscious kid stuck in her dorm and Panic, despite his immortality had grown to a height regular for his age. He would never put such a burden on her. Eeeeeeh, but the book! What about the magic book?!

[Deleted]

Della watched him like a mother hawk watched her young as she led him into her room. It was sort of odd, really, how she was always doing that sort of thing, but the most important thing to keep an eye on had been lost on her, even after a year and a half of knowing Panic. All she saw was the terror that she had figured was normal, and she offered a gentle smile that she had no idea had the potential to make everything worse. “Hey, easy there, I’m not going to let anything hurt you in here, okay?” she assured him before she finally let go of his hand, only just realizing that she had let her fingers linger over his skin for a few moments. Huh, she hadn’t meant to do that…oh well.

Considering the disarray that she had grown up in, her part of the dorm room wasn’t all that bad. Her bed was comfortably unmade, her books were slanted ever so slightly, even in their alphabetical order by author, and of course, Rook was sleeping on said bed, curled up as dogs often were. His eyes did open ever so when his sensitive ears heard the new arrival, and while usually he was very happy to see his good buddy Panic, he had just gone for such a long walk with Della that he would simply have to wait until later to give his old buddy the proper greeting he deserved. Still smiling, Della settled down on the bed and looked down at the book, sometime around when Panic blurted out, “It-its sss-so you c-can b-be a writer,” making her look up and she let out a little laugh, obviously not to make fun of the way he talked. She had always known that it was what he did, and she had come to find it endearing…though not as endearing as what this gift represented.

“You know something Panic? I’ve never gotten a lot of presents in my life…this…” She held it up and smiled, slowly rising. “This is probably the nicest, most sincere one I’ve gotten…so thank you.” She fell silent for a few moments, just smiling at him, thinking about what a good friend he had been, even when she had been a lousy friend more often than she cared to admit…and maybe she gazed a bit longer than necessary, which a part of her realized when she pulled her eyes away and motioned next to her, at least where he wouldn’t accidentally squish Rook.

Then another thought occurred to her. “Hey…your birthday’s coming up too, isn’t it? Any suggestions?” she asked, folding her hands over the book on her lap as she looked at him quizzically.

[Panic]

He watched her hand. Focusing on the feel of her skin on his. It was so warm and healthy compared to his ashen and ever clammy epidermis. It was almost easy to believe her words of comfort when conscious only to the fact that she was holding his hand. It made is stomach twist in this strange way that made him want to smile....or throw up, whichever came first, but mostly it provided a good feeling. It was strange to think back on all the times she had graced him with the touch of her hand and realize that, each time, positive emotion was slowly eating away at the negative. Like every time she lay and finger on him fueled a hunger that threatened to give him hope that everything might be alright so long as she was there to hold his hand. But, like all good things in the life of a hellish demon, it had to come to an end and, just like that, she let her hand fall and it was like it never happened. No, not like it hadn't happened, more like a pleasant dream that you were forced away from and somehow knew was never supposed to happen in the first place.

Panic felt a pang of guilt once forced back into reality. Why should he even let himself have such daydreams? There were none that didn't deserve them more than he and yet, he let them flood his brain like a man held underwater, struggling to pull his head above the ocean whenever there was the slightest chance to taste the sweet air above the surface. He was drowning in his despair and Della could save him, but that could never be. Not unless he wished his presence upon her at all and he never could. Why should she spend time with such a loathsome creature as himself?

He watched her sadly for a time, not realizing that they were conducting some sort of staring contest until she broke the silence with such a compliment that Panic was left at a loss for words. Not that Panic had much to say anyway, but he literally could not think of one single thing to say for a good minute, at which point his mind caught up with his emotion and he remembered that she should not be offering him such kind words. He opened his mouth to protest y-you're....welcome Wait a second. Thats not what he meant to say at all! Well that was what you were supposed to say wasn't it? Wouldn't it be rude to not say so? Still! He was supposed to say something about how it was nothing or how he didn't deserve her thanks! Panic began to panic, heightened only by her offer to sit beside her.

Sitting. Sitting, like hugs, never went well with Panic. Sitting made it so much more difficult to escape should you have too, but...he was with Della...and she was offering, he couldn't exactly refuse and...Rook was there. Rook was a strange sort of comfort for Panic, on accounts that Panic so often shape shifted into a dog and had a pretty good understanding of the creature. So i he had to sit, he supposed, there was no better place than between Della and Rook. He still let out a sort of concerned whine involuntarily, but made his way to the spot she'd patted. His hand unconsciously went to stroke the dog's head as he watched the floor with a strange intensity. His eyes only moved to look at her when she mentioned his birthday.

...huh? was he initial dumbfounded reaction. Hie Birthday? How could she remember even when he didn't. For some reason his cheeks grew red and he looked back down bashfully. o-oh... he suddenly felt desperation and fear piling up on him again and he gave her a pleading look oh n-no Della! y-you don't h-have to to get me anything! he said I mean... he began to correct himself, but couldn't quite figure how to so simply fell silent instead.

[Deleted]

Even though she hadn’t quite realized that she was staring at him, she did notice that look in his eyes. She had gotten used to that look, honestly, but that didn’t mean that she still didn’t wonder what it literally meant. She knew that it meant that something was hurting him, that wasn’t a surprise. With a life like his, how could something not be eating him alive? But not for the first time, she would she knew his mind, as Shakespeare would’ve put it. After all, a good surgeon always knew what to get at in order to fix a problem; how was she supposed to…for lack of a better term, fix him, if she didn’t know what exactly what troubling him? She somehow doubted it was specifically thoughts of his horrible childhood, because when you dealt with something like that, you avoided dwelling on it until some well meaning therapists made you. Was there something he was scared of in this room? That was more likely…after all, what wasn’t Panic afraid of in this world? If that were the case, though, there wasn’t very much she could do about that.

If she had any idea that there was actually something she could do about what was making him so sad now, however? It was hard to say whether or not she’d be too stunned to do anything anyway.

Honestly, after all this time of being Panic’s friend, Della wasn’t the least bit surprised as he said that she didn’t have to get him anything for his impending birthday. She remembered a time, not so long ago, but still a lifetime before this moment, when she had said that she wanted to help him in the cafeteria, and the way he denied it. He didn’t think he deserved the care that she was putting into his wellbeing, just like he clearly didn’t think he deserved a birthday present. Instead of her eyes widening and her heart splitting into little pieces at his reaction, now? She almost laughed a little, not at him, per se, but at the realization that…yeah. This was her Panic all right.

“I know I don’t have to, Panic,” she reminded him, resting a hand on his arm before she looked him square in the eye with a smile. “But you didn’t have to get me anything either…like I said, I’m used to doing without too much. But I’d like to…I don’t know, I want to get you something special.” Did Della quite get why she was doing this? Because let’s face it, she hadn’t even put this much thought into something for Westley…then again, as much as she owed her pseudo older brother so much, he wasn’t the one that she had essentially abandoned over, what, a stupid guy who didn’t even stick around and had even hit him?

Panic deserved a better class of friend, and Della cared about him way too much to not make sure that he got it. “But hey…I won’t if you really don’t want me to.” Then a slightly wickeder smile crossed her face. “I’ll just have to find some other way to celebrate, because that’ll probably count as a present in of itself.”

[Panic]

It was like a dance, he decided, their movements had developed a sort of gentle grace and familiarity over the year. She reached out and he recoiled. Whereas most relationships of any kind revolved around a game of give and take it seemed like she was always giving and he was always refusing to receive. Sooner or later someone would have to break the repetitive motion of they had any hope of getting anywhere beyond their sorry excuse for interaction. He couldn't help but mull this over as his pale blue eyes drifted to watch her hand curve against his arm. Someday, maybe he'd have the courage to hold his ground, but not today, not right now. Even if he had the courage it not like he had enough self respect to allow himself such potential joy.

He turned his face aside shamefully and tensed his arm against her palm, trying to ignore the pleasure it gave him to feel her touch again. He hung his gaze until he felt her eyes strong on the side of his head and he instinctively raised his line of vision to meet hers. He felt all air escape him upon fully appreciating their close proximity. Like a helpless little puppy his head tilted slightly to one side and his eyes took on a pleading look, hopeless against her extreme beauty and dazzling smile. He struggled to keep a whimper off his lips. Her voiced buzzed in his mind like her room somehow amplified the warmth and sincerity of her words, or maybe that was just his ears playing tricks on him.

By the time she'd finished the first part of her thought he barely managed to blink let alone come up with any kind of response so it was fortunate that she continued soon after. Well, never mind. He wanted to take that back as soon as he'd thought it because that smile that crossed her face was enough to make any male swoon. He felt such an intense feeling of embarrassment, joy, and sheer giddiness all at once that he had to turn his head away in hopes of hiding his burning face and stupid grin. A single sort of huffed chuckle escaped his lungs before he realized his hands were trembling and he swallowed hard in hopes of containing himself.

Thank you he managed in practically a whisper, without looking up. Th-thank you f-for...caring he struggled out, because in all his life, she's the only one that really ever bothered too and even if he was certain he didn't deserve it, he couldn't deny that it made him feel better to know that there was at least someone out there that recognized his existence.

[Deleted]

Della was used to this pattern, really; she went forward, he pulled away, but with that odd little smile on his face. Honestly, a total stranger could have passed by and made the right assumptions, or at least have been close. That Panic clearly wanted her affection, but kept trying to stop himself, that there was something special going on here. And yet Della didn’t even know the half of it…if she did at all, it was so far from a conscious level. Her mind saw a dear friend that she owed so much to, whose life she wanted to make better…but how was her mind supposed to know that she loved him?

“Of course I care about you,” she assured him, as she often did, something she always said so casually. Perhaps that was why she barely even noticed what she was doing until her lips were just barely touching his cheek. By the time she could even recognize the action, she had already pressed the lightest of kisses there. As she was pulling back, it was dawning on her how…very strange that was. It wasn’t just the fact that they didn’t usually do that sort of thing…actually, she had never done something like that. I mean, please, she was scared that just a hug would terrify the hell out of him.

So why had that happened? And why had it felt like the most natural thing in the world? Why was she even obsessing about it, I mean, it was just a kiss on the cheek, that was innocent…it shouldn’t have been making her head feel like it was buzzing, almost like it was something far bigger than just an innocent gesture. Something that maybe…maybe she wanted to repeat? Or was that even enough? Maybe if she turned his face back towards her, or moved her lips a little bit to the left…

…what the hell was going on?

“I…I mean,” she started, because she knew she had planned on saying something before her lips had gained inexplicable minds of their own (which was only asking for trouble)…something about…about the fact that he was her best friend, was it? Yet the words lay in their graves somewhere by her throat, forgotten. Why was that? She was really going to have to get a freaking grip before things got out of control, not that she was sure what exactly that meant.

So she managed one of those little smiles she used when she was overwhelmed. “You…you just mean a lot to me…which I guess is kind of redundant…” She managed to laugh, just very weakly, but at least it was relieving some of the buzzing.

[Panic]

There always seemed to be a certain hum about Panic, like a humming bird ready to speed off at a hundred miles an hour in the matter of seconds as a result to the tiniest provocation. His pulse always seemed irregular as a result of his ever spiking stress and odd breathing patterns. His muscles remained tense, especially since he was sitting, leaving him at least twice as vulnerable as if he were standing. This was a common thing for Panic, to be constantly preparing to flee, but, it seemed, there were reasons outside the norm for this standard procedure. Panic often fears torture, pain, and other such things that most living things do, only he tended to multiply every little fear by about one thousand. Here and now, however, there was a far different kind of vulnerability that his subconscious was preparing to flee from. The vulnerability of his heart and the fear of letting someone near it.

A mutual friend of Della and Panic's, Westley had informed him once that Panic may have some sort of feelings for Della, but it was singularly so terrifying that Panic's mind had deliberately shut it out and hid the idea in some far dark corner of his thoughts. Any moment like this tended to threaten to unveil said memory. Panic could feel it, like a dream just out of reach. Something warm that you want to hold, but just before he could get close enough to reach out, a terrible anxiety washes over him and he recoils. Nothing she'd down so far had quite been strong enough to push him through that barrier, that is, until the warm flush of her lips brushed against his cheek.

All at once it seemed like the world stop moving. His mind was empty except for the simple comprehension of fever like heat that clouded his head and the gentle pressure on his cheek where her lips were placed. It took a moment for him to realize he liked this place he'd found somewhere between realities and just upon coming to this conclusion, it was over. She'd pulled away and started stammering, clearly feeling just as charged and confused as he was. He could feel energy pulsing between them like two magnets being held apparent just barely by some invisible force.

PAnic tried to remember his limbs one by one, coming to terms with the fact that his trembling had quickly worsened and his unblinking gaze might not ever leave Della's face. Seconds passed and she continued to stumble, that light laugh of hers gracing his ears just in time for his intensely pessimistic and hyperactive mind to begin catching up to him. He felt his blissful moment of happiness slipping away from him and frantic terror began to curl its slimy claws around his being. No! he suddenly pleaded and reached out for her hand without warning, but this seemed to only hurry his anxiety and he began to stumble again I...I...I.... he repeated uselessly, his blue eyes, clear as day, giving her the most meaningful looks a sorry little demon could muster. Don't make me go back he thought desperately Stay with me, consume my mind....

[Deleted]

Of course Della couldn’t read minds. She was just…Della. The ordinary one who would’ve been useless if she wasn’t so damn willing to fight for herself…but for that moment? It was almost like she could, at least when it came to Panic, which honestly was a feat beyond anything she had ever managed. Panic was always the one person she couldn’t figure out on, really, any level. How could anyone think she could? It was always the reason why she could never figure out how to make his life better, something she had so desperately wanted since she met him. She had chalked it up to the idea that she wasn’t a completely heartless bitch, that she was still capable of sympathy. As time went on, she figured that she had just grown close enough to call him her best friend, so that was why…

And yet she could never figure him out…until now, when he had reached out for her while she was doing her best to diffuse this very apparent tension that had come out of nowhere. When he had looked her in the eye like that, everything was finally put into working order…and she knew exactly what he was asking without a word.

That was probably what triggered the next eternity in a short span of time. While the first kiss on his cheek came with literally no warning, this time Della was very aware that every fiber of her was telling her to do this in the split second before she found her hand at the back of his neck and her lips pressed onto his. The first one was gentle, cautious, not far from the original kiss on his cheek. Then there was a pause, where she was nose to nose with him, her eyes half open, forced to remind herself to breathe. It felt like every inch of skin was about to explode in that instant, just before she took his lips again, this time with almost nothing tentative about it. Thought didn’t even have anything to do with this anymore, thoughts had been what got in the way this whole time, and somehow, this was shutting off thought, unless the urge to just hold onto him as tightly as she could counted as thought.

But for the first time…she could understand him perfectly.

[Panic]

People are filled with colors and lights and darks and all sorts of beautiful emotions that they share and spread about the world. It's how they are made, its healthy for them, and even for a freakish little demon this is true. He's at least human enough that it is entirely unhealthy and mentally destructive to keep all his emotions locked away. It was like everything he ever felt, every moment he'd shared with Della had been bottled up in a little glass bubble. Such a seemingly easy thing to break. Everything constantly on the edge of falling into disarray and yet, Panic had tip toed around and protected it so carefully, that not a single thing had managed to puncture this place in his heart enough to cause all of its contents to spill at once. Until now.

Though he was clearly pleading for his mind to remain in it blissful state of buzzing emptiness, he hadn't quite thought through what exactly he meant for her to do about it. Well of course he hand't, all logical brain function had gone out the window the minute she'd kissed him on the cheek. Now it was just simply emotion. The little glass sphere shattering and spreading warmth all through his body as her beautiful brown eyes looked into his pleading soul and solved the riddle of his broken words. He felt his body shutter as her lips graced his, every muscle in his being relaxed and for a spilt second he knew what it was like to feel calm. His breathing was low and heavy by the time she pulled away. It was just a peck, but to Panic it meant to whole world. He looked into her eyes as they shared a moment of electric silence and saw everything he ever wanted reflected there. It was like looking into breathtaking dark pools that were made just for him to gaze upon, personally structured to allow him to look through and on into a heaven of sorts.

He was feeling slightly shy and instinctively a bit embarrassed, though his mind could hardly gather enough to understand the reasoning behind it at the moment. His cheeks flushed and he almost turned away again until she closed in on him a second time and he was suddenly assaulted with such a wave of passion that he placed a hand on her arm and leaned toward her in one, rapid movement. He felt a bubbling in his stomach and, unlike the previous kisses, his muscles tensed with a hunger that demanded more of this fiendish feeling he'd been deprived of for so long. The poor thing had so many walls up to keep him for properly experiencing affection that when, at last, a moment occurred allowing such things, his mind and body ate it up like it might not ever have another chance like this again. And who knows? It might not.

He could feel himself falling deeper and deeper into love and lust with every passing moment, a shaking hand reaching up to hold the side of her face. He raised himself up slightly, pushing against her until snap. The sound of something innocent, like a branch against the window or a dog biting down on a toy, whatever it was, it was enough to pull Panic back to reality. He was suddenly ultra aware of his surroundings as he pulled away just barely at first, to look down at Della.Then his mind asked the question that he'd been avoiding for obvious reasons: What am I doing? and thus started a landslide of frantic questions and terrifying answers. His vision became clouded with fear as he slid from the bed and stumbled back a few steps, covering his mouth and shaking his head. He was positively devastated with himself and his actions. How could he?! What a vile loathsome creature he is, how dare he?! There was only one thing to be said and, boy, you'd think he'd get tired of saying it, but still he mumbled through his clammy palms.

I'm sorry!

[Deleted]

She was drowning. This was precisely the sort of thing she had been sure she wanted to avoid her entire life. She had used to claim she had no idea what it was like, falling, but the truth was that it was because she instinctively knew what it entailed that she had wanted to stay away, because it meant you weren’t thinking, that you were just enveloped in this one person…and admittedly, she had felt it on some level with a man whose name she couldn’t have told you right now, it wasn’t nearly what she felt with just hers and Panic’s lips pressed together. Just that was feeling so very addictive.

Perhaps if she had been thinking she would have seen just how this would have gone, because while she didn’t know one very important detail about Panic, she was generally very good at predicting his behavior. This precious friend, this poor boy, apologized for breathing whenever he got the chance, pretty much. His pathetic existence was spent apologizing, like he expected the whole world to pull a Hades on him, even when it was someone like her…someone who couldn’t bring herself to hurt him like that. The one time she did hurt him greatly was something she was still trying to repent for herself. Had she been thinking at all, the fact that he pulled away wouldn’t have surprised her at all.

But logic had had nothing to do with this, and so it was like he had taken away her ability to breathe when he pulled away, staring down at her in horror. The beginnings of asking if something was wrong were in her throat, but then his actions proved that to be a moot point, proved that there was no possible way that he was okay. Panting, she sat up straight, staring at him with new eyes that were very confused about what they were seeing, and what her mind could comprehend couldn’t tell if it was because she too couldn’t believe that they had kissed, or because she was wondering why he had walked away.

Yet those two familiar and torturous words seemed to bring her back to some state of sense, reminding her that this wasn’t how things were supposed to go, at least…her? Kissing Panic? How on earth had that happened? She had just been thinking about how they were such good friends, so how…no, she didn’t want to try to rationalize this! For once in her life, please, she didn’t want to ruin this by thinking about how this could possibly be no good for her. That had been too good…she had never felt that kind of connection with someone before and for gods’ sake, she didn’t want to lose it…

“Don’t apologize,” she whispered, trying to regain some amount of that reassuring and confident voice that he had grown so accustomed to hearing, but things had changed far too much in the past five minutes for that. Instead, it was her turn to plead with him, because her heart was finally getting a say in this, and while maybe the words hadn’t formed in her head yet, it was becoming all the clearer what was going on here. For now, she just didn’t want him to go.

[Panic]

He clenched his teeth so tightly together that pain had begun shooting up his jaw, but he dare not relax, not in a time like this. He seemed to waver for a moment, completely baffled as to weather he should continue backing up until he found some way to exit the room or race forward and seek the comfort he was certain Della could bring. His heart pined for her touch again, but his mind cursed him for even considering it. This was so, so very wrong on so many levels. How could he let this happen? How could he allow his little nasty self taste the lips of such an angel? He felt disgusted with himself, his stomach churning with guilt and despair. He felt like he had somehow poisoned her with his touch. He kept his hands over his mouth for fear he might vomit. There was a moment of flash shapeshifting as his body struggled to cope. His eyes flickered to the door across the room just in time for her to whisper a impossibly familiar response to his never ending string of apologies.

Don't apologize. He stared at her for a moment in sheer astonishment as he took in her expression. Not one hint of resentment, not a single note of horror. Some confusion, yes, but mostly she looked like she was desperate for something. Asking of him something, but what? What could she possible want from him? To leave? That would make sense, it made sense to him anyway. His eyes flittered toward the exit again....but that wasn't right, was it? He lowered his hands slowly, every cell in his mind working in over time to decode the silent words that repeated themselves over and over again in her warm brown orbs. It could easily be mistaken for a plead for him to leave, if it had not been for the insistence that he not apologize moments ago. He knew this look, experienced it often. His mind flashed to the moment just after she had kissed him on the cheek, the growing desperation he felt for her to keep his mind from overwhelming him, a silent cry for her to....stay.

That can't be what she wants, and yet...Panic is hardly ever certain of anything, especially if it was something he thought up. He was always wrong, wrong, wrong, but....there is was, so clear on her face. She didn't want him to leave. The notion was so outrageous that it was actually beginning to give him a headache. He yearned for the peace she gave him, the peace he didn't deserve. He needed to do something, he couldn't just keep standing and starring at her. He couldn't leave because, try as he might to convince himself of his complete incorrectness, he knew that she didn't want him to go. Damn if he was going to do anything Della didn't want, she deserved to have what she wanted. So he took a step toward her, his only other option so far has the two possible routes of action in his head stated. Two was to escape, run out the door or find peace with Della. She didn't want him to leave...

Slowly, one silent step after the other he closed the space between then again, though he couldn't quite gather the courage to sit once more. He looked down at her, the fingers on his right hand twitching as the urge to hold her threatened to overwhelm him. You.... he began in a corse whisper, before swallowing hard and continuing You want m-me...to...sssstay? because even though his mind refused to allow him to think otherwise, he still couldn't believe it.