Paws & Art

Title: I Need You…

Penname: MingaMae

Banner: #16

Rating: MA

Summary: When she can't take anymore of his constant silent treatment she decides to give him up for good. Quil's thinks she deserves better. His silent treatment convinces her to move on. When he decides to fight, will it be too late?

Beta'd by Noini and Themightyren

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I met Quil's gaze from across the half empty restaurant. I recognize the pain and torture written across his face. I know what I'm doing is killing him, because what he's doing is killing me.

Four years ago we met when he dated my best friend. Eventually he became my best friend too. There was something about him that drew me in. Maybe it was his dark chocolate eyes and his bad boy smile. It could have been the way he always made me feel like I was the most important person in the world, when I came to him with a problem.

Three years ago, he held me as I cried over some random douche bag. He told me not to cry, that Joe So-and-So wasn't worth it. Then beat the crap out of Joe, all to defend my honor. Because, "that's what best friends do."

Two years ago, he taught me how to drive his stick shift and kissed me under the stars. He professed his undying love and I shrugged it off. Told myself he was drunk and he didn't really mean it. But what is that old saying, "A drunk mans words are a sober man's thoughts"?

And just a year ago, I gave in to his previous advances and enjoyed quite literally the best sex I've ever had. Then he acted as if it never happened. What was I supposed to do with that? So in return I ignored it. Never once did it stop me from craving his touch, his hot hands wrapped around me or his sinful mouth and starry eyes.

I blamed myself. Though wonderful and passionate the night had been, it had cost me my dearest friend.

All the while we worked together, the waitress and the fry cook, in this dingy little ocean-side restaurant. I moved on and I thought he had too. But, every once in a while I'd look through the window overlooking the waitress prep area and catch that look upon his face. It would break another piece of my heart, every single time.

It was no secret when I started dating Deputy Paul Lahote, much to Quil's silent dissatisfaction. It was a small town word gets around easily. Was I supposed to stop living because of the rift between my best friend and myself? Apparently.

It was also not a secret that Paul had asked me to marry him last weekend. I wore his ring but was still chewing the whole thing over. It was a little like accepting second place when you truly deserved first. Don't get me wrong Paul was a catch. He was sweet and charming. He had a wonderful body and to top it all off, he made me laugh. But he just wasn't Quil.

I looked up again later, as I vacuumed under the back booths. It was my last night as a waitress at the little cafe that Quil's uncle owned. I just couldn't be in this place anymore. Not when I was under his constant scrutiny and on the receiving end of his constant silent treatment.

As it were, we were the last people here on a Sunday night. I rolled the vacuum through the kitchen and towards the back office. It didn't escape my notice the way his slightly curled hair was in his face or the way his upper arm muscle rolled as he wiped down the grill with a hot rag. He was covered in a light sheen of sweat and his black-framed glasses had slid to the end of his nose.

He straightened, wiping the back of his hand across his moist forehead and caught me watching him.

"Don't."

I glared. "Don't what?" He approached me, his hands balling up into fist to keep from reaching out to me. I knew because I'd seen it before. I knew because I felt the exact same way.

"Don't marry him." I felt the tears prick the corner of my eyes.

"What does it matter to you?" Arms crossed, so I wouldn't reach for him either. "You know what never mind." I rolled the vacuum into the office and reached into my locker for my purse and keys. The hot tears rolled down my face no matter how hard I fought them.

His footsteps were silent but I could feel his heat behind me. The smell of his Aspen cologne and a hint of Marlboro cigarettes invaded my senses, but I couldn't bring myself to turn around.

"It matters, because I'm in love with you."

I turned jaw trembling, eyes clenched shut. "You don't know what love is." I tried to push past but he caught my arm, pulling me in to his chest.

"Do you feel that?" He asked placing my hand over his rugged chest. "This heart only beats for you. When you're not around it crumbles in pieces, and I'm afraid if you walk out that door, I'll never see you again." He spoke like he had already lost his most valuable possession, his voice quivered. My resolve was breaking. "I need you…"

He didn't wait for a response. His lips attacked mine with vicious desperation. Just like that I was putty in his hands. I melted in to him, pushing every thought and feeling into the kiss. I fucking love you too. I need you too. Please don't stop.

My brain and heart were playing a dangerous game of tug of war. My ever-rational brain won and I pushed him away. "I can't give myself over to you just to be ignored again. There isn't enough of me left unbroken and I won't survive this time." I had nothing left to lose.

"You deserve better than me, more than a fry cook can offer you. I tried…" his voice wavered, but he continued, "I tried to stay away, but I can't do it any longer. I can't watch you attempt to be happy with Lahote. I can't promise we won't fight, that we'll always get along. I can't promise life will be all rainbows and unicorns, or that we'll live happily ever after but I'm willing to try. I'm willing to spend every second of the rest of my life proving to you just how much I love you and need you. Please just give me a second chance."

I didn't have to think about it. I knew what I wanted. "I need you too."

The words barely left my lips before his mouth was on mine. The kiss was all teeth and tongue. It was fiery and wet. It was everything I needed, everything I'd missed.

His heated hands roamed my body, kneading and caressing. He lifted me so that my legs wrapped around his waist. We pulled at each other's clothing until we were both topless. He sucked my breast into his scorching mouth. The unexpected pleasure caused me to throw my head back into the metal lockers and though I could feel the throbbing pain, the pleasure of Quil's searing hands and mouth overrode it.

My shoulders dug into the metal behind me but the pain was forgotten as his mouth began it's decent down my body. His hands frantically worked the button on my denim shorts. The sound of the zipper sliding fueled the fire burning within. I slid to my feet just long enough to wiggle out of the crotched dampened shorts and underwear.

My hands were shaking, almost terrified as I reached for the button of his khaki cargo shorts. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe I was making a mistake giving myself over to him again so freely. But I knew deep down the bigger mistake would be spending the rest of my life regretting walking away from this moment.

With the flick of my wrist his pants fell around his feet and I reached for him, "I need you…"

A/N: I just want to thank each and every one of you that took a moment out to read this and vote in the paws and art contest. (Even if you didn't vote for this story.)

This story tied for 3rd place! I'm just ecstatic about it! I seriously can't stop grinning.