A/N: I haven't updated this in awhile, and honestly, I didn't really think I'd continue, but I just got inspired. So here you go.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Characters and angst and such are solely GG. But my passion for Chair remains. Thanks to comehwatmay.x for the beta.

He always felt like he was in a daze now. He was wandering through the desert to find an oasis he knew could never be there for him again. He saw Eleanor's cruel stare and felt her suspicion suffocating him. He wished he could deny all of it, but he didn't know where he was himself.

She's upstairs.

He couldn't thank the woman who called him the Big Bad Wolf. All he could do was be surprised that he wasn't being tarred and feathered. They saw the remains of royal destruction that even he couldn't understand and he was too smart to believe that it wasn't his fault.

Somehow, it was his fault. He just couldn't piece together what had actually happened.

His steps up the stairs were hesitant and she was exactly where he thought she would be. But there was still some distortion to this new world he encountered and by looking into her eyes, he could tell that she felt the same way.

She stood from her vanity, only to sit in front of her bathroom mirror. For some reason, he felt a sort of destructive foreboding as he followed her in there. But the door was closed and he sat against the tub, watching her apply her make-up.

Every brushstroke was measured and careful. They had hesitant eyes and hesitant movements, and he wished that they weren't caught in some sort of limbo that they could never be free from.

She placed her eye shadow delicately on the counter.

This time she stared at him. He wished he could meet her eyes. He wished he wasn't acutely aware that there was only one ring on her finger and it sparkled like blood.

We're still friends. Aren't we?

He had to look. She was almost too dazzling to look at but her gaze commanded him.


He stood, walking forward, compelled by a force he couldn't name.


Her necklace dug into his collarbone as her pants came sharp against his neck. Her nails dug into his back as he tried to gain leverage.

I still love you.

He let go and they were both rubbed raw from emotion.

He watched her sit down to reapply her make-up and he took his seat against the bathtub again. He just watched, still able to feel her phantom warmth all over him.

She stood up again, casting a glance over her shoulder.

I really do.