#willpaulgardner

“It doesn’t do wonders for me either.”

“I’m not jealous,” she immediately protested. “I just ... I think you should know if you’re being flirted with, that’s all!” She furrowed her eyebrows and looked over at the woman again, just half a glance before she looked back at Will. “You should tell her you’re not interested.”

It’s half past ten, and Will and Alicia are lying on the couch in his apartment, limbs tangled underneath layers of blankets to ward off the February chill. There’s a half empty bottle of Merlot on the coffee table, a discarded pizza box on the floor, and a steady, quiet murmur coming from the television. They had begun watching a movie, but now it’s mostly on as background noise.

Will lazily trails his fingers through Alicia’s brunette tresses, watching her chest rise and fall. Her body is warm against his. She looks peaceful, which is noteworthy because she’s almost always anxious over something, whether it be work or her family. Thinking she has dozed off, he feels uninhibited and murmurs, “I love you.”

Alicia isn’t asleep, per se. She’s in a warm, cuddled-up, sleepy state, yes, but all of what little focus she has is on Will, and oh, she’s very aware of him. His breathing has been steady against her for so long that when he speaks, the hum startles her into listening.

For a moment, her body is almost completely still, a hint of tension and an absence of breath the only sign she gives that she wasn’t dead asleep. Letting herself be loved by Will Gardner scares her, yes, but she knows if she pushes him away yet again she’ll spend the rest of her life regretting it. So she doesn’t. Alicia’s eyes flicker open slowly and she searches for his hand, lacing her fingers through his when she finds it.

Alicia manages to keep it all together when she’s talking to Owen on the phone. He’s crying and she tries her best to calm her baby brother down, just like always, the tremble in her voice buried in the most calm and soothing tone she can manage. Once she hangs up, she stands in silence for what could have been seconds or an hour. Her father is dead. Her father is dead and she can’t make sense of it, can’t even begin to grasp the magnitude of what’s happened. Suddenly, she feels as if her legs have given out beneath her. She staggers back, just managing to drop onto the sofa before the sobs come.

Especially in light of the testimony she’d given that day, she knew she shouldn’t have so readily moved into his arms. But Will was her weakness, and she found herself succumbing -- or at the very least, not pushing him away. Alicia laughs lightly and settles into his arms, finding herself almost annoyed by how comfortable and normal and real it feels to be slow-dancing with him in his office. They’re both practically euphoric with relief and this is dangerous, Alicia knows it, but she presses closer to Will anyway. If nothing else it’s because Owen would kill her if he found out she’d given up this chance on some ‘self-sacrificial impulse’, or whatever he’d call it, she tells herself.

Alicia grins mischievously when Will walks into the kitchen, and watches as his eyes move up and down her figure. Precisely the reaction she’d been hoping for. After sliding the last of a stack of pancakes onto a plate Alicia strides over and loops her arms around his neck, closing the distance between them to kiss him deeply.  “ Rise and shine, ” she murmurs when they break apart, nose brushing against his.  “ It’s been so nice to have somebody cook for me, I thought I’d return the favour for a change. ”