"I loved him desperately, completely, and he wasn't threatening to consume me anymore. He already had. Everything that was me, was him. My heart, mind, and soul all were as much a part of him, as they were me."

—Cassandra Giovanni

In my dream, Julian was kissing my neck with soft lips, while his rough hand found its way from my ribs down to my curved hip. The encompassing cool drafts in the dark room, mixed with his burning skin, was the oddest, yet loveliest, sensation.

The stubble along his chin softly scraped and prickled me, with each small hair shooting electric currents directly into my bloodstream. His nose brushed along the skin just below my ear, and I could hear his soft gasps of air.

My cool fingers traced along his lower stomach as it expanded and contracted with quick breathing, and I was rewarded with the sound of him panting. It was not until he spoke that I realized I wasn't asleep after all.

"Brooke," Julian sighed.

I listened to the way my name sounded like a hum from his mouth. I could've very easily grown to crave it.

"Brooke." He climbed over me and repeated my name while working his fingers through my tangled hair.

I found his lips in the dark, from the proximity of his accented voice, and kissed him feverishly. My legs instinctively wrapped around him and his lips matched my own ravenous need.

He planted kisses along my collarbone, refusing to miss an inch of skin there, while his calloused fingers trailed my inner thighs, slowly working their way between.

"I want to wake up like this every day with you." I felt as though I had exposed a great secret of mine.

"Tell me you want me," he pleaded in a throaty voice.

"I want you, Julian. I will always want you," I whimpered with certainty.

"Say it again." He positioned himself and spread my thighs a bit further.

"I want you. I want you like I have never wanted anyone else." Surely he knew this by now. How could he not have known?

"Again, Brooke." He started to enter me, deliberately as slowly as he could. I could feel him tensing, being so careful with me.

"I want you, Julian. I will never want anybody else." My body readily accepted him as my voice steadily grew in volume. Maybe if I were louder, he would believe me.

As he pushed deeper, ever so slowly, my breath hitched. He groaned loudly in response.

When I finally caught my breath again, his peppery, woodsy cologne kissed my nose. I wanted his scent to cover and mark me as his. He was all I could smell, hear, breathe, or think about.

"More. Tell me more," he half insisted, half implored of me. The hint of daylight crept through the heavy, closed curtains, outlining both of our bodies.

"I don't just want you, I need you." It came out rushed and softer than I had intended.

"Baby... More." He moaned and picked up speed. "Just say everything you're thinking."

His lower lip jutted out in a pout and his brows furrowed, which made me wrap an arm around his neck and pull him down to meet my face.

"You are everything to me," I said into his mouth. I was vaguely aware of the fact that I was finally saying out loud what I had thought since the first night I met Julian. Everything except the three words that were already implied.

"You know you're all mine now, don't you?" Julian kept the same rhythm even with his forehead pressed on mine. His gruff voice was thick with longing.

I nodded with his face still pressed to mine.

"Tell me you are." The nail of Julian's thumb traced my lip as he leaned back again, using the headboard for support.

"I'm yours," I almost whispered.

Julian pushed into me harder, sending shivers over my electric skin.

"All mine," he agreed.

...

"How is it already half-ten?" Julian asked after we showered, while rubbing a fluffy white towel over his dripping hair. The wetter his strands were, the darker they appeared. Instead of his usual, deep golden-brown shade, Julian's hair looked almost black as he patted away the moisture. The citrus soap bar we shared had stripped away the scent of his cologne and I already missed it.

"I have no idea."

"Hello, I'm ringing from suite 1243. I'd like to place a breakfast order with room service please." Julian's ear was to the receiver on the hotel phone in the bedroom.

"Two omelettes, two orders of strawberry french toast, two sides of hash browns, a plate of sausage links, and a liter of orange juice, please." I listened to him speak as I placed the already wilting yellow tulips from Friday night into my copy of Fahrenheit 451 as a sort of bookmark. I would need something to focus on for the plane ride home, to keep my nerves at bay.

Beneath the book, I found the hotel notepad with my unfinished poem scribbled onto the first page. Julian had seemed interested in finding out what I was writing the day before, so I decided to leave it for him to read. When I heard him still talking to the front desk, I tore the page from the notepad and slipped it into the front pocket of Julian's jeans that were lying on the floor. Just as I dropped the jeans back to the ground, Julian emerged in the living room. One of his hands held the towel around his waist while the other lay flat on his chest.

"Breakfast will be here shortly. Just gutted there's no black pudding on offer here. Such a shame." He winked, kissed my forehead, and proceeded to get dressed in front of me. "You would've loved it."

Even in simple, black jeans and a dark blue shirt, he was breathtaking.

I admired the way the fabric clung to his still-damp skin, and how he filled it perfectly, like water poured into a mold. His tight jeans hung low on his hips, while the slightly baggy t-shirt mostly concealed his toned torso.

"I can't believe how fast this weekend has gone by," I wondered aloud.

"Neither can I." Julian stared at the cream colored carpet and sat next to me on the couch.

"I only have a few more hours with you," I stated the obvious, as if articulating it might help the dreaded feeling to subside.

"Hey, maybe you can just stay?" Julian turned his body towards me and suggested. He was growing more animated as the idea sprouted in his mind. "Like just come with me. We have a little time before the festival in L.A. and I'm sure the guys wouldn't mind. Maybe we could—"

"Julian..." I placed my hand on his knee, cutting him off. "I want to. Believe me, I want to. But I can't. I start my new job tomorrow, remember?"

"Fuck." His head jerked as he said it. "Yeah, that's right. Sorry. I don't know how I forgot. I'm just talking crazy."

Julian's forehead creased with an indiscernible emotion and he would not look at me. Instead, he fidgeted with his engraved bracelet.

"Hey." I gently tilted his chin to make him face me.

His brown eyes seemed darker with rumination.

"This isn't the end. We will find a way to make it work." I mostly believed my own words of comfort for him.

Julian gave me a small smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You'll come see me again soon then? Or let me come see you?" he asked, as if it were ever a question.

"The sooner, the better," I promised him with a smirk.

When our breakfast arrived, Julian asked the room service delivery person to set it up on the balcony patio, so we could enjoy the bustling sounds of a lazy city waking up.

"This is entirely too much food." I took big bites of the maple syrup drizzled, strawberry-topped french toast.

Julian was working on his enormous omelette but I couldn't finish half of mine, which was stuffed with spinach, diced tomato, feta, and Swiss cheese. Since I started with the crispy hash browns, I cleared most of that plate and washed it down with the freshly squeezed orange juice, presented in chilled flute glasses.

"There's no such thing as too much. It's good to be able to eat until you're full, and to have a variety." Julian's words silenced me and forced me to imagine the time when he had little choice in what, or when, he ate. A time when he could have been, and often was, barbarically punished for wanting simple, physical nourishment.

During the rest of our meal, I wondered to myself how much of this food he had actually tried before running away, and what it must have been like to taste food prepared with real care for the first time. Selfishly, I wished I could have been the one to cook it for him.

This became a silent goal of mine, to one day stand in a kitchen with Julian and make new dinner recipes together.

"You've gone so quiet," Julian noted.

"I'm just thinking." Ducks were idly circling the pond beyond the balcony, and their quiet quacks bounced off the walls behind us.

"About me?" He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

"Always about you." I grinned and sipped the refreshing juice.

Through the open balcony doors, Julian and I heard two light knocks on the front of our hotel door.

"Hold on, stay here." Julian wiped his mouth and stood to his feet. "Maybe they're here to collect the plates or something. I'll get rid of them."

Julian disappeared into the living room and I was left alone in the warm, late morning Florida air. Sounds of laughter reached my ears and I was somewhat tempted to peek inside the room to see what was going on, just when Julian stepped back out onto the balcony.

"Hey, Brooke, Mason is here. He wanted to see you, I guess. Have a natter, or something. I don't know. But do you want me to tell him to leave?" Julian adjusted his skinny jeans, pulling them up a bit.

"Mason can stay, as long as you're okay with it." I smiled at him. "I like Mason."

"Yeah, he likes you as well. That's what's odd." He shook his head. "Not that it's odd to like you. I just mean..."

"Morning!" Mason moved past Julian and stepped onto the balcony with me. "Whoa. Look at this smorgasbord." His casual, short sleeved, royal blue, button-up shirt showed off his heavily inked arms.

Mason surprised me by leaning down to give me a quick, friendly hug, and then took Julian's seat to start snacking on the food.

"Do you mind?" Julian leaned on the open door frame and squinted at his friend, while lighting up a cigarette.

"I don't mind one bit. This is fantastic grub." Mason shoveled a sausage link into his mouth and audibly moaned with gratification.

I laughed heartily and Julian rolled his eyes.

"Sorry I didn't get to see you yesterday, Brooke. I had every intention to stay and chat with you after the set, but Julian ran off with you before I could."

Anyone might have looked at Mason and automatically felt the threatening sting of intimidation, but he had been nothing but kind and modest since I met him. Part of me felt like I should've been starstruck, but spending so much time with Julian had numbed me a bit to the intimidation, and I found it easier to converse with the guys as human beings, rather than well-known musicians.

At the end of the day, I reminded myself, they were just a group of young men living an extraordinary, almost unfathomable, lifestyle.

"Oh, well I'm glad you found me before I have to leave today." I sipped some more juice and eyed the large spartan warrior tattoo on Mason's forearm.

"Today? I didn't know you were going so soon." Mason wiped his fingers with the black cloth napkin. "Jules didn't tell me that."

"Yes, well, she is here to see me, not you. So you should let us enjoy our last few hours together," Julian chimed in.

"Why such a short stay? You know we're off for a few days before we head to L.A. then back to England?" Mason ignored Julian and continued to nibble on food while chatting with me. I found their ribbing amusing, and as further evidence of their closeness.

"I'm actually starting a new job tomorrow, otherwise I would love to stick around." I peered into Mason's vibrant green eyes and smiled. I wondered what Laina would have done, if she were there, right then.

"Jules said you're a writer?" Mason took a big bite of leftover omelette.

"Yeah. My new position is for the Tucson Telegram, as an entertainment columnist." I imparted the information without trying to seem like I was bragging. There was no way that my small slice of success in any way competed with theirs.

"Brilliant! Nice one!" Mason gave me a congratulatory nod of approval before turning his focus behind me.

"She's a keeper, Jules," Mason said with his mouth half full. "I can see why you're so fond of her."

I felt the familiar blast of heat in my face as my cheeks reddened. Julian placed both of his hands on my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. His open affection filled me with equal parts bashfulness and pride. Mason looked down at the plate in front of him with a smile but did not say another word.

By the time Mason had cleared most of the breakfast leftovers, the afternoon sun was becoming more unbearable so we moved inside to the living room.

Mason casually chatted with me while Julian flicked through the channels, searching for a movie to order on demand. Pulp Fiction and Goodfellas were narrowed down as the final two choices for our afternoon, in-room matinee. Goodfellas won the vote, and the three of us spent the next couple of hours half watching the movie, and half laughing with one another.

I felt like Mason was genuinely trying to get to know me. It, likewise, solaced me to know that Julian could rely on this green-eyed boy in my absence.

"I have to bring Brooke to the airport soon," Julian announced when the movie was finished, hinting to Mason that he would like some alone time with me.

"Okay, that's probably enough chinwagging for one day, anyway." Mason stood from the couch and I did the same. He gave me a warm hug and patted my back before pulling away. "Have a safe flight, Miss Brooke. I hope we'll get to see your face around here again soon."

"Thank you. I hope so, too." It was a remarkable feeling to know that I was not only accepted, but respected and liked. It was even more incredible to know that Julian would be taken care of in my absence. I trusted Mason to do just that.

"Thanks for the breakfast." Mason winked at Jules with his hand on the hotel door.

"I'll ring you in a bit," Julian called out as Mason left our room with a final wave.

As soon as he knew we were alone, Julian wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me passionately.

"I'm so sorry about all of that," he apologized between quick, soft kisses.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Julian. I like spending time with both of you. I'm glad you have him." My fingers traced his clenched jawline.

"Yeah, I suppose I am, too," he finally revealed. "I wish you didn't have to go. I'm going to miss you so much. Are you sure you can't stay just a few more days?"

"I wish I could. You know I would. But it would look really bad if I took time off the night before my first shift," I said.

"I know, I know, you're right. I'm being selfish." His kissed along my cheek and nose, as if he were trying to memorize the lines of my face through his lips.

"You're anything but selfish. We'll see each other again soon," I assured him, hoping for both his sake and mine that it were true.

"Okay." His sigh was deep and mournful. "Let's get you to the airport."

We didn't say much on the way there, so I used the quiet time in the car as an opening to text Laina and make sure she could still pick me up, once I arrived. I hadn't checked my phone pretty much all weekend, and there were simply too many messages to go through in the short drive to the airport. I would have to do that once I got back home.

Yes. Are you alright? Laina replied almost immediately to my text.

Yeah, why wouldn't I be? I asked curiously.

"How are you getting back to your flat once you land in Tucson?" Julian's hand found the fabric of my jeans, and he gently squeezed my lower left thigh.

"Laina is picking me up. I just made sure she'll be there, and she said yes," I told him.

"Okay, just want to be sure you have a way. I could always take care of that for you." Julian kept his eyes on the road.

"You don't need to. I am grateful for everything you've done, and I'm already indebted to you. I don't deserve all of this."

"You deserve much more," he said with sincerity. "Have I made you happy?"

"Happier than I've ever been." It was a foreign feeling, but one that I could've grown used to effortlessly.

"That's all the repayment I need, then." The corners of his mouth turned up into my favorite smile.

The airport signs alerted us to the fact that these were our final minutes together, at least for the time being. In no time, we were at the drop off doors for my returning flight.

When Julian parked, he retrieved my purple carry-on suitcase from the trunk of his rental car, and wrapped his arms around the small of my back.

"This is it I guess," he said dolefully.

"We aren't saying goodbye," I reminded him and tapped the quote on his bracelet.

"So, what are we saying then?" Julian asked through slightly glossy eyes.

"How about 'goodnight?'" I offered.

"Okay then. It's goodnight," he reiterated.

"It's always goodnight, never goodbye." I promised him through a kiss that was not nearly long enough, with the headlights of the car parked behind us shining brightly on our skin.

"Please ring me," Julian said, as I headed towards the airport doors.

"I will." I waved and blew another kiss.

Julian pretended to catch it and put it inside his pocket. When he did, he felt something and looked down. I realized he was pulling out the poem that I had slipped into his pocket earlier, and hastily made my way inside the doors toward the check-in kiosks, before I could catch his reaction.

My ticket spit out of the machine, and it was first class again. I felt entirely uncomfortable with Julian spoiling me so much, but I knew it made him quite happy to do so.

I pulled my book from the top pocket of my bag and read until it was time to board. Once I was in my seat, and treated like a queen by the stewardesses, I hid my nose back inside my book and focused entirely on the story. It didn't eradicate my nerves and shaking hands completely, but rather made the several hours long flight more endurable.

With the plane windows shut, I didn't have to view precisely how high in the air we were, even if the logical part of me knew just that.

In the middle of "The Sieve and the Sand," the pilot announced for the flight attendants to be seated for landing. The flight had been so quiet, with sleepy passengers on a lazy Sunday evening, that I hadn't really noticed the hours ticking by, except for a few checks of my watch.

Tightly, I held onto the bracelet that Julian got for me at Magic Kingdom. It helped to slam my eyes shut, while lifting my feet off the floor of the aircraft, so I wouldn't need to feel the landing as harshly. His face flashed behind my eyelids and I missed him fiercely already.

...

"Hey, where are you?" I stood outside the Tucson airport and searched up and down the line of cars for Laina's old, familiar, blue Volvo S60.

"I can see you. Turn around and walk seven cars back," Laina said into the phone.