you don't get to destroy who i am

She sat at her desk in front of her mirror, brushing her face with foundation and the makeup she used for special events. Music played on her TV as she set the mood to get excited about tonight's FBI Gala. She just couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety in her chest. 

Earlier that day, Dex came to say hello in her office. 

“Maybe I’ll see you tonight?” She called after him as he was halfway out the door. He paused and looked over his shoulder—enough she could see his perfect profile. 

“Maybe,” Dex said quietly. 

Whether Dex came tonight or not, she was hopeful the gala would be fun. She’d try to find Nadeem immediately so she could sit at the same table as him and his wife, Seema. Despite it all, she still hoped Dex would make an appearance tonight. She wasn’t going to bet on it, though. 

After she had finished her makeup, she went to her closet and pulled out the dress she had bought specifically for tonight. It was a long, dark blue, one-shoulder dress. In the light, it sparkled, and the material was close to velvet. She slipped it on easily and fixed it in the mirror so it didn’t scrunch. When her phone lit up, it showed the time—and one glance was enough for her to quickly throw on her black heels, grab her purse, and call a taxi to take her to the venue. 

It was luckily a warmer fall night—there was still a chill in the air but not enough for her to be freezing with her light jacket. As the buildings passed by on the way there, her anxiety increased in her chest. Suddenly, she realized that she would be feeling very seen by all the agents and their significant others. It dawned on her that she wasn’t close with that many people in the office. It also dawned on her that the person she was closest with likely wasn’t going to be there.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver announced. “Do you need help with the door?”

“I’m okay. Thank you,” she smiled and paid her fare. She saw people she recognized from the office walking up the steps into the venue, all dressed up and out of their typical FBI uniforms. Her eyes scanned the groups of people, hopeful she’d see a familiar face. When she didn’t see him anywhere, she began her trek up the steps. 

Upon arrival at the door, a few security officers with metal detectors were standing at the entrance. She walked through the clearance and checked in with a venue employee. 

The ballroom was grand: high ceilings and low lighting. The tables were round and numbered. It didn’t seem like there were assigned tables, which was a relief. She went to the coat check and gave her jacket to the kind man behind the counter. She was mindful that the keys to her apartment were in her pocket. She clutched her purse and took a deep breath as she scanned the room in front of her. 

Nadeem was waving to her from a table near the center of the room. Relief washed over her when she saw his familiar face—and Seema, right next to him. 

“Oh my gosh, __, it’s so good to see you!” Seema beamed as she got up from her chair to embrace her. 

“It’s good to see you too, Seema. Ray talks about you and Sammy whenever he’s in my room,” she said. “I tell him to keep me posted on Sammy’s sports ventures.”

“Oh, Sammy’s just so excited for tryouts. I’m glad we got a sitter tonight so we could enjoy the gala.”

“You look beautiful, by the way,” she told Seema. After letting his wife speak first, Nadeem made his way to greet her. 

“You look stunning yourself,” Nadeem kissed her on the cheek in a friendly manner. “I don’t think the tables are assigned, so I hope this one’s okay. And if you don’t mind sitting with us.”

“Of course not, are you kidding? You and Dex are the only people I really talk to at the office,” she replied, her heart sinking at the mention of Dex. 

“Speaking of, where is he?” Nadeem asked, looking around at the swarm of people. 

“I’m not sure if he’s coming,” she answered, masking her disappointment as best she could. 

“The night is young,” Nadeem said. “He’s the type to make a last-minute appearance.”

“I hope you’re right.”

◎◎◎

After about an hour, anyone who planned to show up to the gala had already arrived. She made it a habit of looking over her shoulder anytime someone new walked through the giant doors—and each time, she was disappointed that it wasn’t Dex. She was so distracted by his potential appearance that she mindlessly said yes each time a server came by with a new glass of red wine. 

“__, you look beautiful,” a voice came from behind her. As she was mid-sip, she turned and looked up to see Tammy Hattley. Hattley placed her hands on her shoulders and gave her a light squeeze. 

“Oh, Tammy, thank you! So do you!” She got up to hug Tammy. “It’s nice to see everyone all dolled up and relaxed for once.”

“You’re telling me,” Hattley laughed. “I’m sitting by Special Agent Winn and some others from Professional Responsibility if you want to say hi.”

“Will do,” she smiled. Others had joined her at the table with Nadeem and Seema—some friendly agents she was familiar with at the office who had been treated by her before. She kept her bag on the chair next to her—just in case. 

Friendly conversation, meeting coworkers’ significant others, and passing appetizers to each other at the table: a vision she hasn’t been a part of in a while. The hospital she worked at before rarely had events like this; she appreciated the FBI for hosting something like this so everyone could take the mask off, just for a night, and rejoice in all the hard work they’d put in the year before. 

Even Nadeem seemed lighthearted tonight: no looming worry of a delayed promotion over his head. Of course, coworkers talk, and she was aware of the trouble it brought home, so it was pleasant to see Seema in good spirits as well. Even better, another thought just dawned on her—there was no Beckett to worry about at an event like this. Goodness, she could only imagine the annoyance he would’ve brought if he was still at their office. 

Of course, the group of men that he socialized with were all at the same table, directly across from hers, across the dance floor. She didn’t bother to say hello—perhaps she had a certain bias against them for their treatment of Dex. It didn’t matter anyway. Her people were at this very table, namely Nadeem. Just one person was missing. 

The pop music playing quietly faded out when Hattley got the microphone at the front of the room. 

“Good evening, fellow agents and staff. It’s time we start our recognition awards part of the evening,” she spoke into the microphone that at first echoed then returned to normal. “I’m very glad to see you all tonight with your significant others. We have a lot to celebrate and for good reason. It’s been a tough year, but our agents are the best and persevere through any situation.”

It was at that moment she realized how much she had drunk in two hours. When she turned in her chair, she felt the warmth of the effects of the wine hit her face, and everything around her swirled. She giggled at the feeling and suddenly felt a little self-conscious. She straightened in her seat and took a deep breath—her heart always started to race after she had been drinking. She reached for her glass of water and finished it. 

Hattley began to read a list of names to honor this evening—names she didn’t recognize or names she didn’t often see in her exam room. Despite it, she happily clapped along at each agent, genuinely happy to be a part of an organization that recognized hard work. Part of her thought that Nadeem should be up there accepting an award. She glanced over at him and saw his attention glued to the front, showing nothing but admiration on his face. Seema whispered something to him, and he smiled.

When she returned her attention to Hattley, she was already walking back to her seat. The DJ took hold of the microphone.

“Agents, it’s time to party!” He shouted into the microphone, turning up the music to an R&B song. Some agents and their dates were walking up to the dance floor.

“Come on, nurse,” Nadeem nudged her shoulder. “Let’s take a shot and then hit the floor.”

Who was she to say no? It wasn’t often (actually, ever) that she had an opportunity to drink with coworkers. Who better to drink with than Nadeem and his wife? Seema took her hand and led her to the bar, towards the back center of the venue. 

“I don’t ever indulge,” Seema said to her, “but tonight feels the first night in a while that Ray is genuinely happy.”

“There’s no shame in a little indulgence,” she replied, squeezing Seema’s arm with comfort. “Tonight’s a night for celebration.” Walking towards the bar with her and Ray, her senses were completely thrown off by the wine. She gave herself some grace—she never drank like this. 

Ray ordered three shots of tequila from the bartender and passed them over to Seema and her. Raising his glass, he smiled.

“To another year of kicking ass and loving my wife!” He shouted. With cheers, the three of them took their shots. It took her a moment to swallow the burning liquid and let it settle in her stomach. Every part of her body felt warm to the touch, but she wasn’t complaining. 

Seema led them both to the dance floor, where other agents joined. Even Hattley came out with her husband, dancing—or at least moving with the music. She didn’t want to worry about the anxieties of the next work week or wonder where Dex was. She turned those thoughts off and continued dancing with her coworkers—well, now she could say, friends. 

◎◎◎

Perhaps she had too much to drink. 

She made her way to the bathroom from the dance floor, sweating from the heat or liquor that filled every sense of her body. She’s a nurse, she knows how to handle herself in situations like this. It’s just that it’s been a while since she’s found herself in a situation like this. 

She was not going to throw up. 

She leaned over the sink, staring at the tap dripping, watching each drop of water go down the drain. Three seconds breathe in, three seconds breathe out. Not at a work party. Not at a work party. Not at a work party. 

She looked in the mirror—at least she looked better than she felt. Still, she patted the concealer under her eyes and fixed the shoulder strap of her dress. She reached into her purse and reapplied the lipgloss she had on. For as nice as a venue it was, it sure was hot as hell in the bathroom. 

Air. Fresh air. That’s what I need. 

She politely pushed past some agents on her way out of the bathroom. One of the male agents—friends of Beckett—stopped her in her tracks. 

“Need some help?” He asked with an amused smile on his face.

“No,” she said under her breath, “please don’t touch me.”

When she was out of the crowds, walking past couples talking to each other, she finally made it outside in the chill New York City air. If she weren’t a little sloshed, she’d be freezing, but the cold air felt cooling in all the best ways. She leaned on a pillar and closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. It was helping her regain stability. 

When she opened them, her eyes landed on someone sitting on the front steps. Dirty blonde hair, black suit jacket, sitting alone. It can’t be. When he turned his head, revealing his side profile, she couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips.

“Dex!” She shout-whispered as she lifted her dress to walk faster toward him. Looking at him took a weight off her chest she didn’t know was there. “Dex, you came!”

Dex immediately stood up, catching her eyes. “Hey, Doc. Better late than never?” His dark hazel eyes squinted as he smiled. 

As she was about to answer, her heel slipped on the stair approaching him—but with his FBI-like reflexes and training on anticipating moves, Dex grabbed her waist and kept her from falling, pulling her into him. 

“Oh my, God,” she laughed and steadied her hand on his chest. “I’m so sorry. I think I’ve had enough to drink.” Dex placed her carefully in front of him and let go of her waist. 

“It’s okay,” Dex said, shaking his head. “Having fun in there?”

“Yes, but—how long have you been out here?”

“About an hour, maybe?” Dex scrunched his brows, thinking about how accurate his answer was. 

“Why didn’t you come in? I’ve been waiting for you all night,” she exclaimed, happy and surprised to see him. When she finally took the time to look at him, she noticed how dressed up he got—a black suit and black tie. He looked handsome and a little shy. His whole look was endearing to her. 

“I don’t know,” Dex answered truthfully. She noticed that it was his turn to take her in—and suddenly, she felt very self-conscious. “You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” she blushed, incredibly hard, and looked away. She was terrible at hiding her emotions when slightly buzzed. “I’m happy you decided to come. You missed dinner. Oh, but do you want to get a drink? I think the bar is still open.”

Dex shook his head and looked down. “No, it’s okay. I don’t drink.”

“Oh,” she said, embarrassed for assuming. “I’m sorry.”

Dex met her eyes again, a smile on his face. “No need to be sorry. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“Too much fun,” she felt her words slur again, and she took a deep breath. “Do you want to say hi to Nadeem and Seema?”

Dex looked over her shoulder and saw agents starting to trickle out. He checked his watch and saw it was nearly 11 PM.

“I think people are heading home now,” Dex said with relief. “Looks like the party is over.”

She underestimated just how many people worked at the bureau—hundreds of people were walking out, and she couldn't spot Nadeem and Seema to say goodbye. Dex suddenly wrapped his arm around her and brought her in close to him as people bounded down the steps. He kept his arm around her waist and led her down the steps, away from the crowd.

“Can I take you home instead?” Dex asked in her ear. Feeling his voice against her skin made her shiver. 

“Yes, that’d be good.” 

◎◎◎

They walked a few blocks before Dex hailed a cab. Unfortunately, that last shot of tequila she took with Nadeem and Seema was catching up to her. She stumbled so much in her heels that Dex had to hold her steady at the corner of the block. She was shivering against him, but the cold felt good—it made her feel more sober than she was.

A taxi pulled up, and Dex opened the door for her, letting her enter first. She slid on the leather seats and tucked herself in the corner of the cab. She immediately rested her head on the window. She felt Dex’s warm hands reach around her to buckle her seat belt. She looked at him as a thank you.

She whispered her address to Dex, who then told the driver. Dex leaned back in his seat and looked at her—her eyes were closed as her forehead rested on the window. He looked forward and watched as the taxi driver drove toward her apartment. 

Upon arrival, Dex paid the fare, hopped out of the cab first, and opened her door to help her out. She took his hand and stepped out of the cab, mustering all the strength and focus she could. Dex held her steady as he walked her behind the cab to the front doors of her apartment. 

“Thank you,” she said under her breath. Dex pushed the front door open and let her walk inside first. He trailed behind her and naturally looked at the entire lobby. He’d never been inside her building before. There were a few elevators and an empty front desk. The doorman was standing by the desk. Dex made eye contact with him and nodded his head in acknowledgment. She smiled at the doorman and wished him goodnight. 

Inside the elevator, she focused on the numbers on the panel and clicked her floor number: four. She leaned in the corner of the elevator and felt dizzy suddenly. She gripped the handles in the elevator. 

“Thank you, Dex,” she whispered, forcing her eyes to stay open. “I’m sorry you had to take me home.”

“You keep saying sorry when you haven’t done anything to be sorry about,” Dex smiled and spoke softly. “It’s okay. I wanted to. We’re almost there.”

When the elevator dinged, the doors opened to her floor. She reached for Dex’s hand absentmindedly, and he reciprocated by letting her lead him down the hall. When they approached her door, she rummaged through her purse. She gasped so loud it even startled Dex—which never happens. 

“Oh my, God,” her heart sunk in her chest as anxiety crawled on her skin, “Oh my, God, oh no, no, no!” 

“What’s wrong?”

“Fuck,” she cursed to Dex’s surprise. “I left my keys in my jacket, and my jacket is still at coat check at the venue!” 

“Do you have a spare key?”

“I should, but I’ve put off getting it copied,” she placed her hand on her forehead. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“They don’t have them at the desk downstairs? The doorman can’t help?” As an agent, it was in Dex’s nature to consider all possibilities until there were none left to accept defeat. 

“No and no,” she sighed. “I’ll have to wait to go to the venue in the morning and get my jacket. I’m sure it’s closed by now.” 

Dex stood for a moment contemplating. He looked at her in her not completely sober state and saw how frustrated she was. She probably already felt bad making Dex come all this way. What was she to do now? 

“You can sleep at my place tonight,” Dex offered. 

“Oh, Dex—“

“It’s okay,” Dex shook his head at her protests. “I’ll take my couch,” he reasoned.

Truthfully, she would’ve argued more had she not felt buzzed and nauseous from drinking. But in her agreement to go to his apartment, she put up a new wall—she didn’t want to give Dex any ideas about anything happening. She immediately felt the anxiety of the uncertainty. And apparently, it was written all over her face. 

“Just to sleep,” Dex reassured her softly. “Nothing else.” 

She held a soft gaze—she didn’t know if it was the liquor in her or the way he looked so earnest, but she decided to trust him. 

◎◎◎

Her apartment was nowhere as clean and organized as Dex’s. It was small, about the same size as hers, but very well-kept and bright. From the marble countertop to the white walls, it was spotless. There wasn’t much for decoration, save for the fake plants in the corner that probably came with the apartment when he signed the lease and a picture on the wall near the front door. As Dex brewed a fresh pot of coffee, she looked at the photo. 

It was a group photo—Dex standing on the far right smiling. Behind the group was a banner that read: BROOKLYN SUICIDE PREVENTION CENTER.

“Did you work there?” She asked Dex with interest. “The Suicide Prevention Center?”

“For about a year,” Dex nodded. The coffee started to drip into the pot. “Shortly after I left the army and right before I started at the FBI.”

“Wow,” she replied. “What was that like?” 

“Wasn’t easy, but it was rewarding, as they say,” Dex said. 

“Do you still keep in touch with the people you worked with? It must’ve meant a lot to you to have this hanging in your apartment.” 

“Not really.” Dex shook his head, leaning on the counter. “I just like to have it as a reminder.” 

She moved towards the counter and sat on one of the stools. She held his gaze for a moment. 

“A reminder for what?”

“They teach you how to talk to people who are struggling. Sometimes you gotta take that advice for yourself.” 

“I bet it’s even harder as an FBI agent. You’ve probably seen a lot of stuff you can’t unsee.”

“That’s why you compartmentalize it all.” The coffee was brewed and Dex poured two cups. She let the aroma of the coffee fill her nose as a way to calm down. She blew on the steaming cup and took a sip. 

“How do you feel?” Dex asked. 

“A little buzzed, but this is helping me settle down.” She took another sip and leaned against the counter. “I’m sorry, Dex.”

“Stop saying sorry,” Dex replied. 

“You don’t have to give me your bed. I can sleep on the couch,” she suggested, in hopes of making light of the slightly awkward situation. Dex shook his head.

“It’s okay. I’m not arguing with you,” Dex said gently. “You can shower if you’d like, too.” 

“Now you’re just being too kind,” she smiled behind her cup. 

“You can borrow a shirt. As beautiful as that dress is on you, I can’t imagine it being comfortable to sleep in.”

She looked away, unsure of what to say. 

“I’ll set it up for you now.”

◎◎◎

Dex quickly changed in his room while she occupied his shower. This wasn’t something he ever did—bring someone to his home. This was his space—his privacy. Part of him felt like he shouldn’t have done it; the other part was glad he did. He assumed by the end of the night, he’d know which side was right. 

He waited on his couch and stared at the empty coffee table in front of him. When he heard the shower turn off, he shifted in his seat to make sure he wasn’t looking at his room. His door was slightly ajar. He saw her expression when he offered to sleep at his place: nervous, apprehensive. Dex wasn’t like that, whatever it was she assumed. 

He heard her step out of the bathroom and into his room. He laid a plain white shirt and shorts for her to wear. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. Somehow, Dex didn’t feel exhausted at all. 

“Dex?” She called his name from behind the door. Dex stood up and paused before entering his room.

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to leave the towel somewhere specific? I don’t see a hamper in here,” she said, peeking out from the door. Dex took it as a sign that it was okay for him to enter. He pushed it open and saw her in her natural state—no makeup, freshly showered, damp hair dripping on his carpet. Wearing his clothes. Holding his towel. 

“It’s okay, you can leave it in the bathroom. Shower good?”

“Amazing. Thank you,” she smiled sheepishly. “And thank you for letting me stay. I really appreciate it.” 

“Of course,” Dex nodded. “I’ll let you settle. If you need more blankets, they’re in—“

“Dex,” she gently cut him off. “I wish you had come to the gala tonight.”

“I did come,” Dex scrunched his brows, unsure what she meant. 

“Right at the end,” she said.

“I was there earlier. You just didn’t see me until the end.”

“Touche,” she sighed, looking at the floor. She looked up at him again. “I missed you.”

“You can’t miss me.” Dex gave her a sideways smile. 

“I did,” she gently argued. “I feel like you always think no one wants you there. Whatever the other agents say or think about you… It doesn’t matter. I wanted you there.”

Dex looked away from her now, feeling his throat tighten with…regret. “Well, I’m here right now,” he said. His voice was as dark as his eyes looked. But unlike normal darkness that pushes her away, it only drew her in more.

She traced her fingers on his forearm, sliding them up the length of him to his shoulder. He sighed at her touch—he suddenly couldn’t remember the last time he was in her office and was this close to her.

“Dex, I really want you to kiss me,” she whispered. 

“So do I,” he replied.

She dropped the towel to the floor as Dex placed both his hands on either side of her face, closing the distance between them with a kiss. Gentle at first—he couldn’t remember the last time he kissed someone or if he was doing it right. But he did know that he liked how her lips felt on his—he liked being connected physically this way. He held her gently in his hands, like she was the most delicate thing he’d ever hold. In a way, she was. 

She placed her hands on his chest as he deepened the kiss, holding her right where he wanted her to be. She’d touched his skin before, but never like this. He felt soft and tough as leather. She wondered how she felt to him. 

She tugged on his shirt and began to walk them backwards to his bed.

Suddenly, he stopped.

“No,” Dex pulled back, eyes shut and lips wet from the kiss. “We can’t.”

“I know,” she shook her head in agreement. “I just wanted us to be more comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable here,” Dex smiled. He nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “It might be too much there. Not when you’ve had a few drinks.” Restraint was another thing they taught him in training. 

“Okay,” she nodded. “That…means a lot.”

Dex kissed her again, slowly, savoring every second. “It’s late,” he said. “Do you want water?”

“Yes, please.”

Dex slowly pulled away from her. When he turned his back, she slowly crawled into his bed, under the covers. By the time he came back with a tall glass of water, he saw that she had fallen asleep.

He smiled to himself. She took his side of the bed. Dex placed the glass of water on the nightstand, quietly enough so it didn’t clink. He brushed her hair out of her face and took one more look at her before turning the lamp off. 

She’s the purest thing he’s ever known, and she lives right down the hall from him. Dex liked to keep his space neat and tidy; it was never dirty or out of order. He never allowed anyone into his space. Dex valued his privacy and, even more so, his alone time, despite feeling the lows of such often. Everything was a routine he had to strictly follow: wake up, shower, get ready for work, work, come home, be alone.

She ended up fitting into his routine, somehow. Only someone as pure and kind as she could find her way into Dex’s space--and so easily, too. She had recently graduated from New York University with a degree in forensic science and was living alone for the first time. 

He’ll never forget when she started talking to him in the elevator, one rainy evening.  

“What floor?” He asked her.

“6,” she replied. It was the same as his. Dex clicked the elevator button. 

“You work for the FBI?” She couldn’t help but notice the large letters on the sleeve of his navy blue jacket. Dex typically took it off before going out in public, but that day’s mission had exhausted him so much, he forgot to. 

“Yes,” Dex answered and shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to friendly conversation with strangers. It was natural for him to have his guard up. 

“That’s cool,” she sighed. “I just graduated from NYU last year. I got a job at the 15th Precinct in their forensics department, but working for the FBI is a dream of mine. Do you like it?”

“It’s tough,” Dex said. “It pays the bills.”

The elevator dinged. If he weren’t on the same floor as her, he’d be happy. He let her exit the elevator first and trailed slowly behind her. She waited for him so they could walk in tandem. He sighed, realizing he had no escape. 

“Do you mind if I come by sometime and ask you questions about your job? I’m new to the area—new to living here, and I’d like to know that I have a personal FBI agent to call a neighbor and—friend,” she smiled at him. Dex squinted his eyes slightly, amused by her outgoing personality and interest in his job. He wasn’t particularly a fan of being put on the spot like this, but seeing the way she looked so hopeful at him—who was he to say no? 

“Sure.”

And that’s how she ended up sitting across from him at his kitchen table, notebook on her right side, a cup of decaf coffee on her left. It had been like this for a year now—like clockwork, she was at his door at 11 PM, sometimes even later (depending on when he came home from work) to talk about his day and ask questions about anything related to his job. Dex grew to look forward to these late-night conversations with her—it was oddly reminiscent of his meetings with Dr. Mercer. 

Now, he knew these weren’t therapy sessions, and if anything, he was the one giving her advice and information, but it was comforting to talk to her about his day. He found comfort in explaining his job duties and answering any curiosities she had. She was kind, probably the kindest thing in his life right now, and he needed that. He found it harder to sleep if she didn’t come by and spend an hour with him talking about his job.

“Wow,” she breathed. “So when you guys detain whoever you need to, how soon does forensics show up to the scene?”

“They’re already on their way before we even lock the handcuffs,” Dex said. He watched as she scribbled something in her notebook. He only recently noticed how attracted he was to her—he only ever saw her at night, and she was always, more often than not, in her pajamas. He started to take notice of her rotation. Last week, she had light pink polka dot ones on. Tonight, she’s in a plain light blue set. Next was probably her black silk ones. It was always in her natural state that he saw her. No makeup, disheveled hair. Friendly smile. Curious and his favorite part, attentive, eyes. 

He rarely ever saw her during the day. He was up at the crack of dawn going to the headquarters, and she was always in three hours later. She always came home before him, and when she’d hear Dex’s familiar knock on her door, she knew he was ready for their nightly catch-up. 

Neighbors catching up…friends, like she said one time. That’s what they were, Dex supposed. 

He didn’t think of this as an almost every night thing. After the first few nights, he let her into his apartment, Dex thought it was a done deal. On the fifth night, just as he was about to get in bed, he heard a knock at his door. 

“I brought ice cream,” she was holding two tubs of Ben and Jerry’s in her hands, and squeezing her notebook under her arm. “Mint chocolate cookie or strawberry cheesecake.” 

Dex grabbed the mint chocolate cookie from her grasp and let her inside with a tired smile. 

He had also grown a bit protective over her as her neighbor. 

He remembered one time he got home from work at 10:30 PM—earlier than usual. He knocked on her door three times—it was his signal that he was ready and home—but there was no answer on the other side of the door. Dex pressed his ear against it and listened for any movement or sound. Nothing. He checked his watch and saw it was nearly 11:00 PM. It wasn’t like her to not be home already.

He pulled out his phone and called her. It immediately went to voicemail. 

Dex clicked his phone off and rested it on his lips. The increasing heaviness in his chest was something he only felt when he was on missions—he was anxious. Is she okay? 

Something inside of him locked, or maybe, unlocked at the thought of her never coming home. The thought of her never sitting across from him at his kitchen table ever again. It unlocked a feeling he kept hidden away as best as he could, despite it being the most constant thing in his life. Feeling abandoned—left behind. Alone. 

For the first time in his life, Dex didn’t want to be alone.  

Dex was too numb to go back into his apartment. He pressed his back against the wall of the hallway and slid down to sit on the floor. He decided he would wait there until she came home. 

After an hour of staring into nothing, but mentally replaying all the times he’s had someone leave him, the elevator doors dinged. Dex was too tired to look at who it was, too afraid of disappointment if it wasn’t her. He kept his eyes forward. 

“Dex?” She started walking faster towards him. “Are you okay?” Dex whipped his head up and immediately stood up on his feet. 

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, his voice feeling thick and dry. “I was—worried. About you. Your phone…”

“It died,” she explained. “And I forgot my charger. I ended up staying late to finish up some work. You waited for me here?” She asked with a hint of a smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, meeting her eyes finally. She still looked as wide awake as ever, full of energy and positivity he wished he could emulate. Something compelled him to wrap his arms around her and bring her close in an embrace—so he did. He sighed in relief. “Don’t forget your charger again,” he said in her hair. 

“I won’t,” she pulled back, suddenly catching on to the seriousness of his tone. “Rough day? Is it too late to talk in your apartment?”

“Not if it’s too late for you.”

It was strange, the effect she had on him. It only grew more intense after each night together. Dex watched her carefully now, across from his table. He couldn’t remember the lat time he let someone get close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed himself to connect with someone since Dr. Mercer passed away. It was the first time he possibly found a new North Star. He hoped this one wouldn’t go out. 

She brought a warmth to his apartment that it was lacking before. He never spent time at the kitchen table unless it was the morning and he was having his coffee before work. He never thought he’d spend most of his nights here, with her, talking about his day and duties as an FBI agent. She was part of his routine now. And if there’s anything about Dex, it’s that he doesn’t like when his routine is disrupted. 

“Can I ask you something we haven’t talked about before?” She looked up from her notebook and placed her pen down on the table. Dex shrugged his shoulders. There wasn’t much he wouldn’ttell her at this point.

“Anything,” he said.

“Have you ever had to kill someone?” 

It took a lot to catch Dex off guard. But this was a question he wasn’t expecting to be asked so blatantly. 

“In the line of duty, obviously,” she followed up quickly, responding to his reaction. 

Dex held her gaze—he didn’t want his answer to drive her away. In case it did, he wanted to memorize the way she was looking at him right now. The hopeful curiosity. The kindness without judgement in her eyes. He broke eye contact and sighed. 

“Yes,” Dex said, rearranging the napkin holder in front of him. 

“Because you had no choice?”

“Yes,” he lied. 

She shook her head. Not in disapproval, but in disbelief. “I can’t imagine that. Do you—do you remember the first time you had to?”

Dex does remember his first time killing someone. But it wasn’t in the line of duty as an FBI agent. It wasn’t even when he served time in the army. 

It was when he was a child and had dreams of becoming a baseball star. The memory flashed in Dex’s mind as quickly as the baseball ricocheted off the fence and hit Coach NAME in the head. 

“I do,” Dex said. “It was a cartel member. We had the group where we wanted them, but one guy wouldn’t give up the fight. He grabbed for a weapon to shoot at my partner—Nadeem—but I got to him before he could do anything more.”

“And by got to him, you mean…”

“Mmhm,” Dex hummed. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I know it’s not easy work. I know these things have to happen. But I wonder, are you okay? Knowing that that happened? And what you had to do?”

“I’m okay,” Dex said, and he wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not. “It was either him or Nadeem. They train you to think fast in those situations. You can’t waste time.”

“I’m really glad I chose the science side of it all.” She leaned back in his chair, and he liked how she made it look so casual. He wanted to mirror her but didn’t. “I don’t know if I could handle it like you do.”

“We make the mess,” Dex said, leaning forward. “Your side cleans it up.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it,” she replied. “Accurate.”

Dex sipped his coffee. “Anything else you’d like to know, Ms. Forensics?”

She smiled at the nickname. “I guess… out of personal curiosity… what did it feel like? Taking a life like that? Even if the guy was bad.”

Dex twisted the mug in his hands. Truthfully, it made no difference to him. But what would she want to hear?

“It’s hard,” Dex said. “Really hard. But these situations aren’t black and white. We have a job to do. We have to protect people. Protect our own. That’s what matters at the end of the day.”

“I see,” she said, nodding her head. “Do you have counselors at work you can talk to?”

“We have to undergo a psych-eval every once in a while.”

“That’s good,” she pressed her lips together. “Well, if the counselors aren’t always there for you, just know that I am, Dex.”

And there it was—that sweetness he had become so accustomed to. He couldn’t imagine his nights without it now. Dex smiled a little and focused his gaze on the table. 

“It’s late,” she said after a few moments of silence. “I think I’ve run you dry for tonight. Got any plans this weekend?” She asked him this all the time, and Dex always had the same answer for her.

“No,” he said. “Catching up on sleep, maybe.”

“Me too,” she began to close her notebook and collect her pens, to Dex’s disappointment. 

“You can come by tomorrow night,” Dex said with hope in his voice. “If you’re not busy and you feel like talking.”

She smiled a little and nodded her head. “I’d like that. Maybe instead of me asking about work, we can just hang?”

Dex took her empty coffee mug and wiped a coffee stain with the pad of his thumb. Her question echoed in his head. 

“I’d like that,” he answered, meeting her tired eyes. “Maybe I can ask about your life and work for once.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be getting much,” she laughed, and Dex hoped she was kidding. “But I’ll do my best to highlight the interesting parts.” She began her walk to his door, notebook in her hand. Dex unlocked it from behind her, gently brushing his arm against hers by mistake. He took a step back to give her space.

“Good night, Dex,” she whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” 

“Good night,” he softly said back. He watched her as she walked halfway down the hall to her apartment. He always waited until she was inside and locked the door before going back and retreating to his bedroom. When she was, he closed his door and locked it. He was alone again. 

◎◎◎

Dex wasn’t worried about having her over until the reality finally settled in and he realized that she would be coming over in a different context than usual. He couldn’t remember the last time he hosted something for someone and had food ready—this was possibly his first time ever. When he came home, early for a Friday night, he checked his fridge to see if he had any snacks and felt silly for it—of course, he had nothing, except a carton of milk and some eggs. 

He went back out to the corner store and paused in the middle of the aisle. What did she like to eat? He only remembered the time she brought ice cream to his place. He went to the freezer and grabbed the same flavors of Ben and Jerry’s she had once brought: mint chocolate cookie and strawberry cheesecake. Dex balanced the two cartons in his hands and went through the chips aisle. He wasn’t sure what to get, and the options were overwhelming. He settled on a jar of salsa, French onion and guacamole—that way, she’d have more than one option. He also grabbed two kinds of chips: salted and hint of lime. He also threw in a container of chocolate chip cookies. 

After leaving the store, he realized that she may be interested in drinking something. He wasn’t a drinker at all—alcohol didn’t mix well with his medication—so he didn’t have a clue of what she may like. Wine? Beer? He found himself inside the liquor store, even more overwhelmed by the options. When was the last time he was in a place like this?

He grabbed one bottle of red wine (Pinot Noir), one bottle of white wine (Sauvignon Blanc), and one bottle of rose for good measure. At the counter, he saw a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and grabbed it. 

Dex had his hands full on his way back to his apartment. He’d never had this much food in his house—the bags practically filled his counter. He laid every snack out but paused midway—they wouldn’t be sitting at his kitchen table. Maybe on the couch? Dex began to move all the snacks to the coffee table. He placed each dip in a bowl and had two more bowls filled with each type of chip he bought. He left the ice cream in the freezer. He put the chocolate-covered pretzels in a smaller bowl. 

Then, he put each bottle of wine on the counter so that when she first walked in, she could choose. Dex finally sat down on his couch and checked the time. It was almost 10 PM. She should be home soon.

◎◎◎

His apartment felt cold and dark until she finally graced it with her presence. She was in her black silk pajamas, as Dex correctly predicted was next in her rotation. When she first walked inside Dex’s apartment and saw the line up of wine and snacks, she couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it all was, especially the hopeful look on Dex’s face as he watched her take it all in. 

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” Dex said, scratching his neck. “So I got a bit of everything.”

“It’s okay,” she looked at him, this well-trained and tough FBI agent who looked like he spent the last hour stressing over salted or hint of lime chips and ended up getting both. “It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

Dex sighed in relief. “I also got different wines you can choose from.”

She looked at each bottle. She was naturally inclined to reach for the red. But she wanted to make sure Dex had a say in the matter, too. “Which do you prefer?” She asked him.

He shook his head. “Oh, I don’t drink. I got that for you. All of it’s for you.”

“Well, if you’re not drinking, then I’m not either,” she said smiling. “I do want to dig into those chocolate-covered pretzels, though.”

“They’re for you,” Dex said.

She walked over to his couch, but Dex stayed standing by his kitchen table. He didn’t take a moment before to take in how different his apartment looked whenever she was in it. Before, everything looked as tidy as it needed to be: empty coffee table, couch lacking warmth, unused empty bowls. But she graced his apartment with her presence by making it feel comfortable. A couch is meant to be sat on, a coffee table meant to have snacks, and bowls meant to have food—just for her. He’s never seen his place so lively and it’s all because of her. 

It was like watching a science experiment in real time. The cause and effect. The hypothesis and results. Except, he felt in the thick of the experiment and the results could be a wild card. He was just happy to witness it happening. How she was so good at making it all feel so comfortable. He liked having her around. Dex wanted her to stay a while. 

“Well don’t be shy, Dex,” she patted the seat next to her on his couch. “Come stay a while.”

Dex laughed and made his way to his couch. He felt like a stranger in his own house. How should he delicately handle this new context of hanging out? He was used to her having a notebook and her doing the talking. He felt the pressure and was afraid he wouldn’t live up to expectations. 

He sat down next to her—not too close. A comfortable distance. He reached for a salted chip and dipped in the guacamole first. During training, they taught agents to start conversations with witnesses or suspects casually. He felt he could apply those tactics here, with her. 

“So,” Dex began, chewing his chip of guacamole, “first thing’s first. How was your day at work?”

Dex didn't know he had it in him, to curate and carry a conversation as long as he did with her. He asked her things about her life he didn’t know before—how she got into forensic science, where she’s from, who she used to be. She’s only 22—she’s got her whole life ahead of her, and she’s only getting started. 

When she revealed her age, Dex was slightly taken aback. The thought never crossed his mind but now that he knew she was a bit younger than him, he felt that sense of protection he had over her grow in size. All those times she had come home late, he never knew she was vulnerable like that. Maybe it was wrong to think that way… she’s independent and lives on her own. She can take care of herself. But it doesn’t have to be that way. 

Still, he had to know something. 

“My age… you’re not uncomfortable?” Dex asked in a small voice, avoiding eye contact. 

“No,” she shook her head. “Not unless you are.”

“I’m not,” Dex answered quickly. “It never crossed my mind to ask how old you were. I didn’t think there was that much of a difference.”

“Seven years is nothing,” she shrugged. Most of my coworkers are that or even more.” 

“I just want you to be comfortable,” Dex admitted. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be here.”

“I want to be here,” she said. “I like talking to you. You’ve told me a lot about the FBI. That’s not the only reason I like talking to you, though.”

“Why’s that?” Dex couldn’t help but ask. 

“You’re nice to me,” she simply stated. “I got lucky that you’re my neighbor. I feel safe.”

“Even though you know my line of work isn’t always sunshine and daises—even though you know what I’ve done,” Dex said in a low voice, “You still feel safe?”

“You’ve given me no reason to think otherwise,” she said softly. “You’ve shown me one side of you. I’m shocked you haven’t figured out I’m trying to get to know all of you, Dex.” 

Dex held her gaze and felt something blooming slowly in his chest. “What else do you want to know?”

“We can save it for another time. You asked me here tonight because you wanted to get to know me,” she nudged his shoulder with hers, the first physical touch they’d shared all evening. 

“That’s right,” Dex said with a small nod. 

“Your turn,” She said with a welcoming smile. Dex took a deep breath. Truthfully, he felt the basic questions had run dry. He knew all there was to know about her on the surface: how she got into forensic science, where she studied, where she’s from, where she works. When he was serving time in the army, the comrades he was with often sat in circles in their tents and started playing games like Never Have I Ever or Would You Rather? He didn’t want to play those games with her now, but he wanted to get to know her on a deeper level. Those games typically made people reveal things about themselves. If she felt so safe around him, Dex didn’t see any harm in asking more personal questions. 

“Do you remember what your prom was like?” Dex asked with a sideways smile. 

“My prom?” Her eyes lit up at the question to Dex’s relief. He nodded. “Oh my, gosh, well, yes. It was such a weird time for me. I actually didn’t have a date my junior year, but senior year I did. I was the worst prom date.”

Dex smiled, trying to live vicariously through her experiences. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true. I had a crush on someone else so by the end, I ditched my prom date and went to a different party. But I had so much fun with my friends. I miss the freedom of being that young,” she smiled. “Good music, free food. Sneaking alcohol at the after party. What about you?”

Dex looked away from her and shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t go to prom. I didn’t technically have a prom.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. The institution Dex grew up in threw a makeshift prom for the seniors, but it didn’t have good music. It had free food that came from the cafeteria they ate at every day already. And absolutely no alcohol by any means. And Dex didn’t have a date. “I remember sneaking out to leave early and head back to my room.” 

“Room?” She questioned.

“I grew up in a Boys’ Home,” Dex lied again. “They invited other homes for orphans but it was awkward. No one really knew anyone. I swore off events like that after that.”

“When’s the last time you went to an event?”

“Probably then.”

“Dex,” she said his name, “we’ll have to find an event for us to go to and change that.” Dex smiled. He’d only consider it for her.

“What color was your dress?” He asked her. 

“White,” she said. “With a bunch of sparkles. My friends gave me shit about it, saying white was for weddings, but I didn’t care. I loved my dress. It was an off-shoulder dress. I felt like a princess.”

Dex tried to imagine it in his mind. White—fitting for her. 

“I’m sure you looked like one, too,” Dex said quietly. “Have you ever traveled outside the city?”

“Of course,” she smiled again. “I’ve been for Orlando, Boston… the entire east coast, pretty much. Outside, I’ve been to London.”

“London,” Dex said impressed. “Did you like it?”

“I did but, it’s got nothing on New York. Where have you traveled?”

“I’ve only ever traveled for the army,” Dex answered. “Nowhere exciting. And definitely not for vacation.”

“We’ll use up your PTO days soon,” she nudged his knee with hers. Dex liked the hopefulness in her tone—the idea of what she was saying coming to fruition one day. And he liked that she said we. 

“Do you remember your first heartbreak?” Dex asked her. 

“Oh, Dex,” she sighed. “Who doesn’t? It happened recently in college. About around the time I was a freshman. Of course, I fell for a guy who was older than me. He had me in the palm of his hand for an entire year… until he graduated and dumped me like that. I was so head over heels for him, but it taught me a great lesson. Never put your life on hold for someone else.”

“That’s true,” Dex said. “I’m sorry he did that to you. That must’ve been hard.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “I hardly think about it now, unless someone asks me. Do you remember yours?”

“Yeah,” Dex replied. “Like you said, who doesn’t?” 

“What was it?”

“It’s not a typical heartbreak.”

“It’s all the same feeling.”

“I guess it would be when my parents died,” Dex said, meeting her eyes. “And then I was put in that home when I was a kid.”

“Dex, I’m sorry,” she whispered, scooting closer to Dex on the couch. His right leg was now resting against her left leg. She put her arm around his back and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dex whispered back. “It was a long time ago. It made me capable of being on my own at an early age.”

“Do you have other family?” She asked, pulling back to look at him. 

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s just me.”

“Well,” she said instantly, “now you’ve got me.” 

Dex wanted to tell her that she couldn’t say things like that to him unless she really meant it. But he didn’t want to get serious about it all—didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Do you remember your first kiss?” She asked him in a lighter voice. Dex laughed. 

“Yes,” he nodded. “I had no idea what I was doing. It was awkward. And wet. You?”

She laughed against him. “I had a similar experience. It was so strange at first. I honestly hated it. I felt too young to kiss like that.”

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, trailing off, thinking of another question to ask her. He opened his mouth to say something, wondering if it may be too far, or treading a thin line of what boundaries they already had. Her leg was still pressed against his, but her hands were to herself now. “Do you remember… your first time?” He asked her.

Silence at first. So much silence that Dex had to look at her to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were focused in front of her, avoiding his. He’s never seen her like this—quiet, unsure. Dex wanted to rescind the question immediately and apologize for overstepping a boundary. But then, she gave him a small, ironic smile. 

“No,” she answered, shaking her head. Dex thought of every possibility in his head that could make her not remember something like that—having sex for the first time—and each possibility raised concern in him until she finished her answer. “I haven’t had my first time yet.”

It was Dex’s turn to go silent. He looked at her expression—she was trying her hardest to keep an indifferent look, but Dex sensed a tinge of embarrassment from her, and even sadness. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more: that she was a virgin or that she was capable of emitting an emotion he knew all too well. He wanted to kick himself for triggering that emotion out of her. 

“I’m sorry,” Dex squinted his eyes, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re not judging me, are you?”

Dex looked at her in disbelief. How could he judge a girl like her? Dex has killed people before—not in the line of duty. He’s used lethal force; he’s been abandoned. And she thinks that he would judge her over not having ever had sex? Dex felt hollow in his heart for a moment—that she thought for even a second he would ever judge her for something like that. She, who is so kind and sweet—pure—someone Dex is positive he isn’t worthy of having so close to him. She scares him in a lot of ways because of that. But somehow he’s earned her trust. No, there’s no world where Benjamin Poindexter judges her. 

“Never,” he breathed out, moving so he was facing her. “I could never judge you for something like that. There’s no shame in it.”

“Sometimes I feel that way, that I haven’t experienced something so intimate before,” she said behind a sad smile. In a lot of ways, Dex hasn’t experienced something so intimate before either. Yes, he’s had sex—but the sex he’s had with partners never felt intimate. It just felt like sex. Soulless, empty, physical. He always felt emptier inside after. 

“It’s okay,” Dex comforted her. “It’s not always intimate.”

“It’s not?” She asked him, furrowing her brows. “I don’t know. It seems intimate to me.”

“It is,” Dex nodded, “it can be. But it has to be with the right person. Otherwise, it’s just an act.”

“I don’t want it to be that way,” she admitted, breaking eye contact. “Just an act. I can’t—I’m too sensitive to just do it. It has to mean something. I think that’s why I’ve waited so long. Not because of religious reasons. I’m not waiting for marriage. I just want my first time to be intimate. I want my first time to mean something. I want it to be real. I’ve heard so many stories from my friends saying guys just leave them after they get what they want. I’m not strong enough for that.” 

“I understand,” Dex said softly. “I get it. But please know I could never judge you for that. If you don’t judge me for not being pure.”

“Pure,” she laughed, “is that what you think I am now that you know that?”

“No,” Dex shook his head. “I knew you were pure from the moment I met you. I didn’t need to know anything else about you to know that.”

“Why do you say that?” She asked.

“Because,” Dex struggled to find the words. He looked at his hands, her knees, her curious expression. “You talked to me so easily that first night in the elevator. So open. I’m not—I’m not used to that. You were kind. I could tell you were a good person. I—I need that in my life, __,” he said, almost pleading like she was halfway out the door when she was still sitting on the couch next to him. 

“I didn’t know you felt that way about me,” she whispered. 

“I let you come over every night to talk about my job because you wanted to,” Dex began to say, “but I also let it keep happening because it has kept me sane. Talking to you. Being with you…” he broke eye contact again. “You tell me I make you feel safe,” Dex spoke again. “You make me feel that way, too.” But when Dex says that she makes him feel safe, he doesn’t mean safe from the other people in the building or even New York City. She makes him feel safe from himself. 

“I’d never want to do something to make you go away,” Dex continued. “I want you around,” he whispered. “I want you to stay.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she shook her head. She placed her hand on Dex’s knee. Dex slowly brought his hand to cover hers. This was the first direct contact they’d ever had—holding hands. Dex looked at the image—studied how his hand fit perfectly on top of hers. He twisted his fingers so they intertwined. Without thinking, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She let him. He kissed her knuckles again, then the back of her and, then her wrist, and soon Dex was peppering kisses all the way up the length of her arm, pushing her sleeve up. 

“Dex…”

He rolled her sleeve down and held her hand again, waiting for her directive. When she gave no protest, Dex moved her hair behind her and kissed her neck. She gently pushed his chest away from her, but only to look at him. His eyes were dark, full of intensity. She leaned in and closed the space between them, kissing Dex and Dex kissing her back. The moment their lips touched, they both knew it was long overdue. Dex placed his hands on her waist while she held him on his shoulders. His tongue made his way into her mouth and she welcomed it gladly. Dex squeezed her gently and pulled back, resting his forehead on hers, out of breath.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a kiss like that?” She asked. Both of them had soft laughs escape their lips.

“I think that was my first time,” Dex admitted against her lips, “my first time wanting to kiss someone like that.”

“I guess there’s a first time for everything,” she smiled. 

Dex kissed her again, gently pressing her to lay down on his couch. She did so she was laying on her back, with Dex leaning over her. She pushed his chest away again, indicating she wanted to speak.

“Dex, I want you to be my first time,” she said.

“What?”

“I want you to take my virginity,” she told him. Dex pulled back completely now. He had to sit with what she was asking him. She leaned up again in concern. “I want it to be with you.”

“__,” he said her name, rubbing his eyes closed. As much as he wanted that, Dex wasn’t sure he was worthy. He wasn’t worthy to be in your presence alone—but to take that from you, the very thing that could change everything—he wasn’t sure he was worthy of that either. You were so good and so pure—to give him that responsibility is to give him the power to potentially ruin that. He couldn’t stand the thought of ruining something else that was so good in his life. 

But if it wasn’t going to be him, it was going to be someone else. And the thought of someone else doing this to her—ruining her purity—cut him to the bone. As quickly as his attachment grew in his chest, jealousy did too, at the thought of someone else doing it to her. 

Selfishly, he wants to be the one to taint her. Unselfishly, he doesn’t want to ruin what she is. 

“You don’t want me,” she shook her head and bit her lip, avoiding eye contact.

“That’s not true,” Dex said. “I do want you.”

“Then why aren’t you saying yes? Why aren't you taking me right now?” 

“Because like you said before,” Dex whispered, taking her hands again. “You want it to be special. You want it to mean something. Rushing into it on a spur of the moment thing won’t make it what it should be.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and Dex had never seen her so emotional. It made his heart hammer in his chest. He shifted so he sat closer to her. He kissed her forehead. 

“I want you,” he reassured her. “But not right now. You should sleep on it. Really think if you want it to be me. I’d hate to ruin a perfect night by us jumping into it right away.”

She avoided looking at him, but deep down, she knew he was right. 

“Okay,” she whispered. “I will.” 

He kept looking at her until the look of worry faded from her face. All that was left was exhaustion in the form of half-closed eyes and soft breathing. Dex nudged her with his knee. 

“What do you say we call it for tonight?” Dex asked. “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I should go.” 

Dex walked her to her door. As she unlocked it, she turned around to say goodnight again, and as if on cue, Dex twisted her into his arms and gently pushed her against the wall of the hallway, kissing her deeply. He locked her there, between his arms, a leg separating hers. She placed her hands on his chest to steady herself. When he pulled back, he looked away, as if the mere sight of her would make him come completely undone. 

Silence followed her into her apartment. Dex retreated back to his, and while she was no longer gracing it with her presence—he felt her everywhere. 

◎◎◎

Dex sat at his kitchen counter. His mind was too clouded by his thoughts to focus on anything—his thoughts that were consumed by her. He didn’t realize that by giving her a choice in thinking about what they talked about, he was at the mercy of that decision. 

If she ended up not wanting it to be with him, how would that change their relationship? Would she stop coming over? Worse—would she never speak to him again? Dex could’ve easily given her what she wanted in that moment, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin what they already had. What had easily landed in his lap without him having to do anything. 

On the other hand, if she did still want it to be with him… well, where do they go from there? Not to mention that he would be the one to take that purity away from her—and not in the sense of virginity. But in the sense that someone like him, someone who has killed and is capable of doing much worse, gets to be inside her for the first time. He didn’t feel worthy to be in her presence like that, to be the one to alter her experience with intimacy forever. If she still wanted it to be with him, he would make sure it was special and intimate like she wanted it to be. 

But he’s afraid that if this happens, he’ll never be able to let her go. It sounds wrong, but he would feel a sort of possession over her. He was protective over her already; after this, he would be downright territorial. His past lovers have all been with people before him…she would be the first he’d ever be with who hadn’t been touched before.

Touched. Dex felt a cramp in his hands thinking about touching her for the first time. He’d want to map her entire body out; take in how beautiful she looks completely naked. He’d be the first to see her like that. He hoped he’d be the last. 

There was a knock at his door.

Dex paused before getting up. It could all change in this next moment. He wasn’t sure which he was hoping more for. He took a deep breath and walked to the door. 

There she was in all her glory—her hair had brushed out, messy curls and was pushed to one side, like she had just nervously fixed her hair. She was in a new set of pajamas—pearlescent silk white. She met his eyes for a fleeting moment before looking down—Dex could still she still felt embarrassed, or ashamed. For whatever reason. It should be him who felt like that.

“It’s okay," Dex spoke first. “Whatever your decision is."

“I want it with you, Dex,” she looked up at him with worried eyes. “But if you don’t want it with me, then—“

“Come in,” Dex opened the door for her to step inside. She immediately stood in the middle of his living room as Dex shut and locked his door.

She was holding herself—arms around her stomach, avoiding eye contact. Dex wasn’t used to seeing her so unsure of herself; he was used to seeing her positive, confident, smiling. Looking at him with hopeful eyes. What did he have to do to calm her nerves?

“I want this with you,” Dex said softly, approaching her slowly. “I just want to make sure you truly want this with me.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “More than anything.”

Dex placed his hand on her cheek, studying her features before everything changes. She was right about something—sex is an intimate act. Sex changes things. He knows how it has changed things for him, but he’s not sure how it will change things for her. He wanted to remember what she looked like before the act—before he changed everything. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. He didn’t want her to feel worried. It was written all over her face.

“What are you scared of?” He asked her.

“It hurting,” she said meeting his eyes. 

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Dex began, “it’ll hurt at first. But then it won’t. What else are you scared of?”

“Making a mess,” she broke eye contact again. “I may bleed.”

“Don’t worry,” Dex shook his head, whispering. “It’s not a mess you’ll have to clean up. Anything else?”

She bit her lip and met his eyes again. “I don’t want you to stop talking to me after it’s done. I don’t want us to do it, and then that being all that you wanted, and then you stop seeing me or hanging out with me.”

Dex furrowed his brows in disbelief. Here he was, afraid of the same thing, unknowing that she too shared the same fears. Dex would never stop talking to her after it’s done. She knows she’ll be attached to him after—little did she know that Dex would be infinitely more attached to her, for separate reasons. He may be taking her purity, but she’s giving him something worse: hopes that he may find newfound purity in himself. 

“___,” he said her name, meeting her eyes. He caressed her cheek some more. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Once this happens—it won’t be possible for me to let you go.” 

She took a long shaky breath. “Okay, Dex. I trust you. I—I think I’m ready.” 

Dex continued to caress her cheek as he held her gaze, witnessing her eyes soften in comfort—safety. Trust. “Okay,” he said. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

She blushed in the most adorable way. Avoided eye contact, bit her lip. She nodded. Dex placed two fingers under her chin to lift her to look at him. Dex slowly leaned down to meet her lips with his. And when they finally touched, she fell right into him. 

Dex cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, holding her steady in place as he kissed her. He teased her lips with her tongue, and she opened her mouth to let him in. He started off slowly…sweetly. When she took his hands and moved them to hold her waist, he took it as a sign to deepen the kiss. His tongue danced against hers as he practically inhaled her with kisses. His strong hands rested at either side of her waist. 

They both pulled back out of breath. Dex leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed. 

“Let me lay you down,” Dex said in a low voice. She nodded against him and let him lead the way to his bedroom. 

She sat at the foot of the bed in the center. She started to shake uncontrollably—from nerves, the AC in his room and from the reality of what was about to happen.

Dex knelt between her knees in front of her. He took her hand and held it in his. He kissed her knuckles and felt her shaking. He looked up at her. 

“This is for you,” Dex reminded her. “It’s okay.” 

“I’m just nervous,” she said. “I’ve never been completely naked in front of anyone.”

“I’ll ask you if I can do anything before I do it,” Dex said. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” she nodded. She was taking deep breaths to calm her anxiety. Dex kissed her knuckles again. He placed both her hands on her legs. 

“Can I touch your shoulders?” He asked. 

She looked confused at first, but nodded anyway. Dex placed his hands on both her shoulders, softly caressing her with his thumbs. He moved his hands down both her arms slowly, feeling the softness of her silk pajamas. When he reached her hands, he held them both. 

“Can I unbutton your shirt?”

“Yes,” she breathed softly. 

Dex nodded and slowly started to unbutton her shirt one by one. He kept his focus on the buttons—nothing else—definitely not the goosebumps rising on her skin and definitely not at her hard nipples through the shirt. When he was done, only the center of her torso was exposed. She leaned back on her elbows and Dex leaned forward more between her legs, which were now spread a bit more. 

Dex could see her heart pounding in her chest. He took right hand and kissed her knuckles. He met her eyes.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Dex reassured her. She shook her head. 

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Dex kissed her hand again. “Can I touch you?”

“Anywhere,” she said in a small voice. 

Dex slowly began to trail his hand up the length of her torso, from her stomach to her collarbone. He slipped a few fingers under neath her shirt, dangerously close to her left breast. Dex looked at her once more for permission. All he needed was a small nod to let him know it was okay—and she did. Dex slowly traced his fingers over her breast, feeling her soft supple skin react to his touch—goosebumps, her nipple hard in the palm of his hand. Dex took a deep breath to control his own feelings of arousal—feeling her breast in his hand, realizing he was the first person to ever touch her like this. Dex squeezed her breast lightly and traced his pointer finger underneath her breast, feeling the curve of her soft skin. He pushed the shirt away, exposing her completely. He did the same thing on her other side with his other hand. He slid her shirt completely off and she closed her eyes, leaning fully back. 

“You’re beautiful,” Dex whispered. “You’re soft and perfect.” 

She opened her eyes. “Touch me more.”

Dex scooped her in his arms and lifted her further up his bed. He knelt between her on the bed and traced his hand on her stomach again. An intrusive thought crossed his mind—would she let him come inside her? Would she want to feel his seed that deeply inside her, knowing the risk? Dex felt his cock harden at the thought of coming inside her for her first time. 

He took a deep breath and crossed the thought away. He placed both his hands on her breasts and gently squeezed them again. He leaned down and kissed the skin between her breasts. She closed her eyes in pleasure. Dex kept his hands on her waist and slowly kissed his way to her right breast, kissing it before taking her nipple in his mouth. He licked and sucked her hard nipple, gently wrapping his lips around it and starting a motion of licking and sucking. He swirled his tongue around her nipple and kissed her breast. He did the same thing on the other side.

  “How did that feel?” He asked her. 

“Good,” she answered in a breathy voice. “Really good.” She was still shaking. Dex was starting to love the idea of him making her shake like that. 

“Good,” he said. Dex began to pepper kisses down the length of her torso, holding his hands on either side of her waist. She breathed deeply and pressed her head into his pillow, bracing herself for whatever was next. He played with the hem of her pajama pants and looked up at her with a slight sense of urgency. 

“Can I take these off?” Dex asked. 

“Yes,” she breathed, closing her eyes. 

In one single slip, Dex took her pajama pants and underwear off, completely exposing her to him. Dex gazed at her sex which was slightly glistening from how wet she was, and then he noticed her slightly shaking again. He placed his hands on her thighs and kissed her on either side, trying to hold her steady. 

“It’s okay,” Dex whispered. “Just tell me if you want to stop.”

“I don’t,” she said. “I’ll stop shaking soon.”

Dex secretly hoped she wouldn’t. He slowly slid his right hand over to her inner thigh and began to draw small circles. He slowly inched his way over to touch her pussy. He ever so gently placed the pad of his thumb on her clit, mimicking the small circles he just drew on her thigh before. She shivered at his touch and Dex watched her carefully. He mindlessly kept rubbing her clit as he watched her expression change from tense to relaxed. 

“That feels really good,” she whispered. 

“Let me know how this feels,” Dex said in a low voice. He slowly knelt between her legs, pushing them farther apart. He placed his entire mouth on her pussy and began to lap slowly at her slick folds. He started from the bottom and licked slowly up to her clit. 

“Oh,” she moaned in a slightly pitched voice. Her legs shifted against Dex’s head, which was welcomed. Dex continued to lap at her wetness, completely putting his entire mouth on her sex. He pulled back momentarily to insert one finger in her tight pussy. She gasped at the tension, grabbing onto the fitted sheets. Dex reached his other hand up and took her hand, indicating that she could hold onto him. He pulled his finger and met his lips to her pussy again, this time moving his tongue around faster than before. His lips were locked on her wetness, and he began to feel himself get lost in the way she felt against his mouth, like this was his last meal on earth. She squirmed against his face, breathing deeply. She reached to pull on his hair to channel how he was making her feel. His hand gripped her thigh while the other held onto her ankle. 

Dex focused his sucking on her clit and he paid mind to how she was breathing—he didn’t want her to come yet. Her eyes were closed, mouth half open, brows furrowed together. With his lips still on her pussy, Dex looked up at her and locked eyes for a moment with her before she closed them again and sighed into his pillow. He took one last lap at her wetness before pulling back and kissing both of her inner thighs. 

“Dex…”

“You okay?” He licked his lips. 

She only nodded, slightly disappointed by how cold she felt now that he wasn’t touching her. Dex could sense she wanted more. He could sense she was ready. He took off his shirt and pants, exposing himself to her. He couldn’t remember the last time he was bare in front of someone, but he didn’t care—all those times before didn’t matter. Only now did. 

His cock was hard, pre-cum leaking at the tip. Dex was slightly surprised that she reached down to touch him, gently running her thumb over his tip. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. He placed his hands under the small of her back and lifted her up his bed, so she lay perfectly in the middle. He was hovering over her now—his cock dangerously close to her wetness, but not touching. They looked at each other for a moment, Dex looking deeply into her eyes—he couldn’t tell what she felt. Fear, anticipation, aroused? A mix of all three, he supposed. Because it’s exactly how he felt, too. Knowing that after this, their entire dynamic would change. For better or worse. 

She spread her legs wider and placed her hands on his face. Dex leaned down and kissed her gently. 

“You still want this?” He asked her.

“Yes.” She swallowed hard. “Please be gentle.”

“I will,” Dex nodded, his hot breath hitting her skin. He pushed a strand of hair away from her flushed face. He kissed her between her eyebrows. 

Dex slowly lined up his cock at her entrance and rubbed his tip against her folds, getting himself wet with her pussy. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. Her eyes were closed, but he watched her as he ever so slowly tried to push himself inside her. He was too big for her to enter easily, and she was too tight for him to go any harder. She said gentle, and that’s exactly what he did. She took a sharp intake of breath and her heart was beating hard against her chest. Dex could sense her anxiety and kissed her forehead again as he tried to push himself inside her more. Slowly, inch by inch, he pushed himself inside her tight pussy, and in one quick thrust, Dex was completely inside her. They both reacted in their own way—Dex letting out the deepest sigh he’s ever taken, and her gasping for air from the pain.

“Dex, Dex,” she whispered in a slight panic.

“Shh,” Dex was trying to keep himself focused but it was hard to while he felt her tight pussy completely encase him while at the same time soften her worries. “It’ll get better. I’m going to go back and forth.”

She nodded and kept her eyes shut, a pained expression on her face. Dex felt incredible inside her, but this wasn’t about him. It was all for her. 

He slowly pulled out, and she could feel the difference immediately. He felt so big inside her that when he almost pulled out, she felt so empty—she needed to feel him like that all the time. Close, inside, tangled up with her softness. 

When he pushed back in, he couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of his lips. She was shaking, and her shaking at his cock inside her, ignited something primal in him. He was the first person to ever feel her like this and make her feel this way, and that thought alone spurred Dex on to keep thrusting inside her. She was completely soaking and he could feel her start to mold to his cock.

“Dex,” she whispered his name, “it’s starting to feel different.”

“How?” He uttered out while he still slowly went back and forth inside her. 

“Good,” she opened her eyes finally and met his dark ones. “Really good. I—“

“You want more?” Dex asked, and it was his turn to close his eyes.

“I want more,” she nodded. 

Dex wasted no time in speeding up his thrusts inside her. He went even deeper, feeling the tip of his cock touch the back of her cervix. He was imprinting his size on her. She knew she would feel him for days after. She felt so velvety, soft, wet and tight around his cock, Dex’s mouth was half open and his eyes were closed as he continued to thrust inside her.

“More, Dex,” she sighed.

His arms were under her, and hers were around his shoulders. Dex kept one arm under her and held onto his bed frame to get a better angle at fucking her, because now that’s what they were doing. Dex pounded inside her tight pussy, wetness and possibly blood coating both of them and his sheets. He watched her as she closed her eyes, mouth half open, as he continued to fuck her into being all his. He didn’t know what he liked more—being inside her or watching how much she enjoyed him being inside her. She fluttered her eyes open for a moment, meeting his, and Dex instantly closed his eyes. He retreated his arm back from the bed frame and scooped her in his arms, pressing his forehead against hers. 

She closed her eyes again and had an expression of arousal, her eyebrows knitted together and her mouth slightly open. She opened her eyes and suddenly felt very aware of what was happening between their two sexes—it was a mix of wetness from her and something else more runny—blood. Her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, Dex could tell, and she tried to look between them as he kept thrusting his cock inside her, unsure if she should allow herself to feel good or worry about the mess she’s making. 

Dex followed her line of view and blocked it with his dark eyes. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. “Look at me. How do you feel?”

She met his eyes and sighed heavily, “But Dex—“

“Don’t,” he pressed his forehead firmly against hers, continuing to pound into her, feeling the tip of his cock touch the back of her cervix. “Focus on me.”

Focus on him she did—the way he was hitting her g-spot repetitively made her spread her legs wider and push him in even more. He filled her up so completely, so well, she was sure to feel him for days. 

“Oh, God, Dex,” she moaned, louder than before, “something’s happening—“

“Let it,” Dex whispered against her lips, closing his eyes and focusing on hitting her sweet spot. “Come for me, __. Come for me…come for me…”

“Dex!” Her pussy convulsed around his cock as she finally reached climax for the first time. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly against her, holding on like she was holding on for life. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she lost her breath and regained it as she held onto his warm body. He was still inside her, thrusting more gently now. He kissed her neck, kissed the skin behind her ear, kissed her forehead and kissed her lip as he continued to move inside and out of her.

“Oh,” Dex whispered against her lips. “I’m right behind you—“

“Inside me,” she said in a whisper, “please.”

Dex closed his eyes as he felt himself release his seed inside her tight pussy, feeling it coat all over her inside, he was shaking against her. It was her turn to kiss him, to bring him back down from his own high. 

He laid his entire body weight on her, which was welcomed. His cock was still inside her, resting, until he slowly pulled out of her. She held him tighter. He breathed her in deeply, kissing her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his dirty blonde hair. 

He pulled back, gazed in her eyes for a moment. 

“Let me get a towel,” Dex said softly.