A/N: The Unconventional Series is officially AU as of Episode 88 "Okay." Although this was planned prior to Episode 83, I will do my best to incorporate the character developments as they occur in canon. "An Unconventional Passion" is the eleventh episode of a seventeen part (for now) series. It is not necessary to read the other parts of the series to understand this, but it is certainly encouraged. This episode makes passing references to "An Unconventional Mess" and "An Unconventional Sibling." This, like most episodes of the series, is a oneshot.

A/N 2: Since I've done two of these small drabbles for Darcy's point of view, I figured it was time for one of Lizzie's point of view. For those of you reading the other stories, thank you, beautiful lovelies. If you read and enjoyed "An Unconventional Date," know that Roger might appear again in the future

Summary: Lizzie Bennet considers William Darcy's lack of public displays of affection. The man could do more to her with just his eyes than most men could do with their whole bodies.

An Unconventional Passion

William Darcy was not one for public displays of affection. He did not kiss Lizzie Bennet, his girlfriend, in public. He did not hug her. He did not hold her hand. He did not touch her. He didn't seem to mind as much with anyone but Lizzie. He would greet Jane with a kiss on the cheek, give-in to Lydia's forced hugs, and, of course, he was happily affectionate with his sister, always kissing her on the forehead, right at the hairline – that was his special kiss for her, something he'd obviously been doing since she was an infant. But Lizzie got no such public affection.

She had accepted this about him. Begrudgingly at first, but after a while… she realized how much he was willing to make up for a lack of contact once they were in private.

When they were with their closest friends and family members, he might brush his lips against hers or against her cheek or temple, he might wrap an arm lightly around her waist, he might brush her hair back off her shoulders. But the more people there were, the less he touched her. And should a single person join the crowd with whom William was not close, they might as well be on opposite sides of the room.

But Lizzie truly didn't mind.

They'd turned it into a game. How close they could get without touching. How much they could tempt the other into abandoning their senses.

No one else knew about their games. Many of Lizzie's friends couldn't understand how she could be happy with William. He was so stiff; he never smiled; there was no softness, no affection. No passion.

Lizzie had once thought the same, but she knew better now.

William Darcy was the most passionate man she'd ever met. It was all in his eyes – his smile, his softness, his affection, and especially his passion. Even when she'd hated him and his stares, she'd recognized the dangerous, wild passion in them.

Lizzie loved William's eyes. William's stare.

Across the distance of a room, she could feel his eyes on her. When he would break away from her in company, he always looked at her. And she knew; she felt. The man could do more to her with just his eyes than most men could do with their whole bodies. Every stare, every look, every little glance from William was a promise. And William Darcy never broke a promise.