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NSFW
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Auden's heart pounded as she pushed through Cillian's back gate, the metal clattering shut behind her. She crossed the lawn in quick, desperate strides, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might have followed her. The morning chill bit at her bare arms, but she barely felt it. All she could focus on was the weight in her chest, the words pressing at her throat like they were trying to suffocate her before she could even get them out.

She rapped her knuckles against the door—three quick, urgent taps.

Cillian answered almost immediately, like he'd been expecting her. But there was no surprise in his face, no warmth. Just quiet, unreadable restraint.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a mild tone, "I thought you had a busy day."

Auden slipped past him, her heels hitting the wood floor with hurried clicks. She dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes, and turned to him, already breathless.

"I need to talk to you."

Cillian shut the door with deliberate slowness, the lock clicking into place. His back was still to her when he spoke, voice level but laced with something sharper beneath the surface.

"Talk to me about what? Your meeting with Jenni?"

Auden's stomach dropped.

She had been prepared for this conversation—for his frustration, his hurt—but the quiet edge in his voice still sent a fresh wave of guilt through her.

"How did you find out?" she asked, though she already knew. Jenni had picked up Charlie this morning. It was only a matter of time before she opened her mouth, wielding Auden's secrecy like a blade.

Cillian turned then, his blue eyes dark with something she couldn't quite name. He didn't need to say You already know the answer to that. It was written all over his face.
Auden inhaled sharply, her mind scrambling for an explanation, but there was nothing. No excuse would make this better. And the truth — that she hadn't wanted to tell him, that she'd chosen to keep it from him — was its own kind of betrayal.

"I didn't want you worrying about it," she said finally, taking a hesitant step toward him.

Cillian's jaw flexed. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders rising and falling with measured restraint.

"Did you ever plan on telling me?"

Auden hesitated. "Probably at some point."

Cillian let out a sharp, humorless breath — a laugh that wasn't a laugh at all. He turned on his heel and strode toward the living room.

"Probably?"

Auden followed, frustration flaring beneath her ribs. "It's not a big deal, Cillian. I can hold my own against her."

Cillian stopped abruptly, and she nearly ran into him. Before she could react, he spun to face her, eyes alight with something raw and unguarded.

"That's not the point," he ground out. His voice was low, but laced with barely contained frustration. He tilted his head forward, so close she could feel the heat of him, could almost taste the words before they left his lips. "I know you can handle her, but you shouldn't have to."

The force behind his words made her chest tighten.

"It's okay," she lied, trying to soothe the situation. "Seriously, she doesn't bother me—"

Cillian shook his head, looking at her like he could see right through every word she was trying to sell him. Silence stretched between them, thick and weighted, before he finally spoke again.

"Are you serious about us, Auden?"

Auden blinked. "What?"

Cillian exhaled hard, dragging a hand through his hair. His gaze flicked toward the window, where cars passed and pedestrians moved through the quiet morning. Anywhere but her.

"I can't help but feel like this relationship is becoming one-sided," he said, voice quieter now.

His words landed like a physical blow.

Auden's breath hitched, her throat closing around the sharp sting of them. She took a step closer. "Cillian—"

But he stepped back.

She flinched. The space between them felt unbearable.

"You keep things from me," he continued, his voice steady, but fraying at the edges. "Do you think I don't notice when you lie about how you feel? About what you're thinking?"

Auden swallowed hard, shaking her head. This was spiraling too fast, slipping through her fingers like sand.

"You refuse to let your guard down with me," Cillian went on, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes found hers again, and it almost broke her. He's hurt, she realized. Not just frustrated — hurt.

"I've been open with you this entire time," he said. "And you—" He shook his head, exhaling sharply. "I don't know where I stand with you, Auden. I don't know if you'll ever let me in."

The weight of his words pressed down on her chest like a vice. This was the opposite of why she'd come here. She had wanted reassurance. To tell him how she felt. To finally give him the piece of herself she had been holding back for too long.

Auden inhaled shakily, opening her mouth to protest, but then Cillian cut her off with something that stopped her dead.

"You wouldn't even call me your boyfriend."

Silence. Auden's lips parted, but nothing came out. Because he was right.

Cillian let out a sharp, exasperated sigh. "You never wanted to define us. And I went along with it because I thought — I hoped — that eventually, you'd get there. That maybe you just needed time. But this is a relationship, Auden. You never say we. You never say mine. You won't even let yourself claim this."

His voice was raw now, the pain in it hitting her harder than anything else he'd said.

She wanted to tell him it wasn't true. That she felt every part of him — his presence, his touch, his voice — in the marrow of her bones. That he was hers in a way she had never let anyone be before. But the words wouldn't come.

Cillian shook his head, running a frustrated hand down his face. "Why?" he asked. "Why won't you let yourself have this? Why won't you let yourself have me?

Auden's throat tightened, panic creeping in. Because everyone leaves. Because the second you put a name to something, the second you let yourself need it, it can be taken away. Because she had watched her father walk away without so much as a backward glance. Because she had learned too young that love was fleeting, that you could be someone's entire world one moment and a stranger the next.

But she couldn't say any of that. Because if she did, if she let it out, it would be real.

So she scrambled, grasping for something — anything — that would make this hurt less.

"I just..." She swallowed, voice thin and uncertain. "I don't see why we need a label."

Cillian let out a short, bitter laugh. "That's bullshit, Auden. And you know it."

She winced.

He shook his head, his face hardening. "I know what this is. I've known from the start. I just don't think you do."

Auden felt herself unraveling, every tightly-wound defense crumbling. She had to fix this.

She took a shaky breath, stepping forward. "Cillian—"

"I can't be in something that's only real when it's convenient for you," he said, voice tight.

The finality in his words sent something cold and sharp through her. Auden forced herself to speak past the lump in her throat. "What do you want me to say? Tell me, please."

Cillian threw his hands in the air, exasperated. With a raised voice, he demanded, "Tell me how you fucking feel."

"I'm scared, okay?" Auden blurted out, her voice just as high as his, "I'm fucking terrified. I didn't come to Dublin with the goal of finding something, or - or someone. I left Chicago because I was running away. I didn't expect to come here and find this." Auden gestured between them, "It's the exact opposite of what I wanted to happen."

He looked away, his head shaking, his face pained. Auden continued, "But I couldn't stay away from you. I couldn't stop myself from falling for you, no matter how fucking hard I tried."

"Well, I'm sorry to put you through so much," he replied sarcastically. He wouldn't look at her. It made her even more desperate to be heard — she felt her body move towards him, willing for his attention once again.

"You want me to say it?" Auden asked, stopping in front of him and trying to catch his eyes, "I love you, okay? I fucking love you and — and I — I don't know what to do with it all."

Cillian froze. His eyes snapped to hers, wide and disbelieving. He sucked in a breath, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. "Don't tell me that if you don't mean it."

Auden gripped the fabric of his t-shirt, desperate now. "I mean it," she pleaded. "Before I even realized it, I was falling in love with you. And I don't know how to handle it. But it's always been you, Cillian. I told you that in the beginning."

His hands were on her face in an instant, his fingers digging into her skin like he was holding onto her just as desperately.

"Jesus Christ, Aud," Cillian muttered, his fingers framing her jaw, holding her like she was something fragile and infuriating and necessary all at once.

"Say it again," he demanded.

Auden felt like she might break under the weight of it all —of finally letting go, of giving him the thing she had been so afraid to say.

She lifted her gaze to his, her hands still gripping his shirt like he was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth.

"It's always been you," she murmured.

Cillian's jaw tensed, his fingers tightening against her skin. His eyes burned into hers, raw and searching.

Auden swallowed hard. "I love you," she whispered.

Cillian's breath stuttered, his hands shaking slightly as he exhaled. "And I love you," he whispered back.

Auden let out a breathless, almost disbelieving laugh as relief surged through her. But before she could speak, Cillian's lips crashed onto hers, fierce and unyielding, as if he were afraid she might disappear if he hesitated even for a second.

Heat flared between them, an all-consuming fire that threatened to reduce everything else to ash. Auden didn't care. She wanted to burn with him.

Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair as she pressed herself into him, needing him closer, deeper. His hands roamed down her back, firm yet reverent, as if memorizing the shape of her. Every touch left her gasping, every stroke of his tongue against hers sent shivers down her spine.

She wanted him. Not just in the way she had wanted men before, fleeting and momentary. This was different. This was surrender.

"Take me to your bed," she whispered against his lips.

Cillian stilled, his forehead resting against hers as his breath came fast and unsteady. His voice was husky when he asked, "Are you sure?"

Auden cupped his face, her thumb grazing the rough stubble along his jaw, relishing the sensation of him — real and solid and hers.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she murmured.
Cillian's eyes darkened with something between desire and devotion. Without another word, he bent at the knees, gripping the tops of her thighs and lifting her effortlessly into his arms. She let out a soft gasp, her legs tightening around his waist as he carried her through the doorway, their eyes locked in a silent, smoldering promise.

He placed her onto the bed with a gentleness that made her chest ache. And then he stepped back, eyes sweeping over her as he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion.

Auden's breath hitched. Even in the dim light, the sight of him — the defined muscles, the soft smattering of hair on his chest, the undeniable strength in his frame — sent heat rushing through her.

But when he moved to hover over her, she felt something else entirely. A nervous flutter in her stomach. She wasn't inexperienced, but it had never mattered like this before.
Cillian seemed to sense it. Instead of diving straight back into hunger, he leaned down and kissed her slowly, lingering as if savoring the moment. Then he pulled back slightly, just enough to press a soft kiss to the tip of her nose.
She giggled before she could stop herself.

"There's that smile," he murmured, his lips curving as he sat up, straddling her hips.

His hands found the hem of her sweater, untucking it with unhurried precision. As he lifted the fabric higher, his fingers brushed over the delicate skin of her stomach, sending a shiver through her.

She squirmed. "That tickles."

Cillian smirked but didn't stop, peeling the sweater over her head and tossing it aside. The cool air kissed her skin, and she felt suddenly exposed beneath his gaze.

His expression shifted, his teasing replaced by something deeper, heavier. His eyes roamed over her, drinking her in — her curves, her green lace bra, the way her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.

Cillian ran a hand down Auden's bare arm, his fingertips tracing lightly over her skin as his gaze swept over her. She felt exposed under the weight of it, but not in a way that made her want to shrink away. If anything, the intensity in his eyes pulled her in, made her breath hitch.

"You're perfect," he murmured, almost as if he were saying it to himself.

Auden swallowed hard, her heart thundering. She opened her mouth to respond, but he beat her to it.

"I need you to know something," he said, his voice lower now, almost unsteady. His fingers brushed along her collarbone, then down, over the delicate lace of her bra, like he was memorizing her. "From the moment I met you, I was gone."

Auden's lips parted slightly, her chest rising and falling beneath his touch. The stillness of the room settled around her, unyielding.

Cillian released a breath, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

"I thought I had you figured out, you know? This quiet, sharp-eyed woman who always seemed to have one foot out the door. But then I saw you smile that first time — really smile — and it was over for me." His lips quirked, almost rueful. "I'd never wanted anything so badly in my life."

Auden felt something ache deep inside her, something terrifying and wonderful all at once.

"You —" She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat.

Cillian leaned in, his hand cradling the side of her face now, thumb brushing just beneath her eye. His breath was warm against her lips. "I love you," he whispered. "I've loved you for longer than I should probably admit. Longer than any normal man should."

Auden's chest tightened, her hands finding their way to his face, holding him there. She had no words, no way to express how deeply those simple ones unraveled her. Heat flood her cheeks, but before she could overthink, she reached for him, sliding her hands up his arms, over the taut muscles of his shoulders, pulling him back down.

She kissed him.

Soft at first, then deeper, pouring every ounce of feeling into it, hoping he understood. Hoping he felt it the way she did.

Cillian groaned softly against her mouth, pressing her back into the mattress, his hands gripping her like he never wanted to let go.

And for the first time in a long, long time, neither did she.

She arched into him, her hands moving down his torso until she reached the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers trembled slightly as she fumbled with the button, her body pulsing with adrenaline and need.

Cillian groaned against her mouth when she finally undid it, shoving his jeans off. But just as she moved to unfasten her own belt, his hands caught hers.

"Slow down," he murmured, his breath warm against her lips. "We have all day."

Auden swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her ears as Cillian took his time undoing her belt himself, his fingers tracing the waistband teasingly before tugging her trousers down.

She barely had time to feel self-conscious about her simple cotton underwear before Cillian was pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, his breath sending jolts of pleasure along her spine. His hand slid between her thighs, gently parting them, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her underwear to touch her.

Auden gasped, her body arching instinctively into his touch.
Cillian's lips found her ear, his voice a low, teasing whisper. "It's always been me, hasn't it?"

A shudder ran through her as he pushed a finger inside her, coaxing another breathless moan from her lips.

"Yes," she managed to say.

But that wasn't enough for him. He curled his finger inside her, slow and deliberate, as if he were unraveling her piece by piece. "Say it," he urged.

Auden's hands clutched at the sheets, pleasure overtaking her ability to form words.

"I want to hear you say it," Cillian said again, slipping another finger in.

Her breath hitched. "It—it's always been you."

Cillian let out a satisfied hum against her skin, his fingers retreating just as her body was teetering on the edge. "Good girl."

Auden let out a frustrated whimper, her entire body throbbing with want. She needed him—all of him.
Her hands shot forward, pulling his boxers down in one desperate motion. The sight of him, hard and ready for her, sent a fresh wave of heat through her.

Cillian wasted no time. He slipped her underwear down, his hands roaming over every newly exposed inch of her skin, before settling between her legs. He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips, as if grounding them both, then positioned himself at her entrance.

For a moment, he just looked at her. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face, his eyes softening. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I won't," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I want you."

Cillian groaned at that, sliding into her slowly, letting her adjust. The sensation sent a shiver through both of them, their breaths hitching in tandem.

He buried his face in her neck, his hands gripping her hips as he started moving, slow at first, then faster, deeper, until she was gasping his name.

Auden clung to him, nails raking down his back as waves of pleasure built inside her, each thrust pushing her closer to oblivion.

She felt him tense above her, his pace faltering as he let out a guttural moan. He barely had time to pull out before he spilled onto her stomach, his body shuddering against hers.
For a long moment, neither of them moved, their breaths heavy, their skin slick with sweat.

Then, Cillian lifted his head, resting his forehead against hers, his hands brushing damp strands of hair from her face. His eyes searched hers, vulnerable, tender.

And then he said it, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. But she knew she would never get tired of hearing it.

"I love you," he murmured, "Please don't forget it."

Auden felt something inside her chest crack wide open.
She smiled — soft, real, unguarded. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and whispered back the only truth that mattered that day.