"Would you like to be mine?"

She could clearly remember the way he had asked. He had been excited at first when he first wanted to know if she was already his. Then his almost-disappointment when he asked if she belonged to another. And then, finally then, he asked whether or not she wanted to be his and his alone.

Sookie remembered scoffing and brushing it off before trying to leave. He'd blocked her way and she had been frightened, though she had tried to hide it. She remembered his promise not to hurt her, but how could she trust that? He was still a vampire, still a murderer, he could snap and change and hurt her without thinking twice about it, based on instinct alone. Still, he had let her pass and she'd been relieved. Not just for her immediate freedom, but because she had needed the time away from him.

Now, alone in her house again, Sookie thought back to that question. Would she like to be his? She couldn't quite immediately place the answer for that one.

Sookie sighed and shifted onto her back to look at her bedroom ceiling. The shadows played overhead while the crickets chirped loudly outside of her window. If she let herself have a moment of fantasy, she would imagine that Eric would come up to the porch, inside the house, and then come up to her room and then they would make love all night, like they had less than two weeks past.

She had wanted him; that much had been obvious. She hadn't lied to him; she had almost always wanted him, even when he was a smug bastard and cruel. There was a delicious darkness inside of him that she just wanted to possess her, take over her senses, and cause her unequaled pleasure. She believed he could do that for her, and she hadn't been wrong when it finally had happened. When he had become sweet and sincere, kind and concerned about her, it had broken her heart and her defenses. She simply hadn't been prepared for his gentle demeanor and soft caresses.

When he had regained his memory, though, Sookie had been afraid. She still couldn't trust him enough to believe that he wouldn't immediately revert to the cold, callous nature that he had always had. She still didn't trust him to still be that sweet, loving man she had known. She simply didn't trust the him that she had had for those precious days they had enjoyed together. Sookie had lost her faith in him.

She could remember the sofa in Bill's mansion and her blatant refusal to look at him. Sookie had been afraid that he wouldn't be able to recall what he had done, and then when he had, she hadn't wanted to see his eyes. She felt the humiliating shameful sting of embarrassment and could pinpoint exactly why; it was like this Eric could remember what she had done with other one, it was as if he was a new person that had been privy to such a private, intimate moment. It was embarrassing, she thought.

'I remember everything, us.' He had said and Sookie had kept her eyes firmly planted on her hands. She remembered the softness of his voice, the strong lure that he had when he had called her name. She really wanted to hear that again, but then her mind flickered quickly to the last time she had seen him.

She had been with Bill, after finally putting Marnie to rest, in the King's living room again. They both had looked wonderful in their robes and they both had had the same expression on their faces. A look of love and adoration for her, and her alone.

Sookie licked her lips slightly and shifted to rest her hand under her head.

Bill had told her she was the love of his life, but Sookie wasn't so sure she believed that or not. No matter how much she had loved him and how much she had thought he loved her, Eric still had been right. He had lied to her, repeatedly, and kept very important things from her. Bill had allowed her to be beaten so that he could save her, that should've been unforgivable, yet she still had somehow managed to forgive him for it. She had hurt him too, maybe not as physically, but emotionally she had stung him many times. He said he forgave her, though. Perhaps they could at the very least be friends in the future.

The sting of losing Bill wasn't as great as it could have been.

Losing Eric, though, that was painful. Sookie wasn't so sure why his loss hurt more than Bill's.

Perhaps it was because they hadn't had so long, but what they had had was so intense and connected. It had been beautiful. Maybe it had been the way Eric had almost pleadingly said that it didn't have to be over. It could've been because she had gotten so used to having him around and with her that not having him was like the missing piece of a puzzle.

But that had been almost two weeks ago. Surely she should be over the loss of his company by now?

She had not seen either Eric or Bill in that time. She wondered where they had gone, what they were doing, who they were with. A nudge of jealousy stirred in her stomach and Sookie wished she wasn't jealous. That meant she still had feelings for both of them. She thought about it for a moment. What if she was jealous of the people they were with? Who was she more jealous of, someone with Bill, or someone with Eric?

Sookie's breath stopped short as the pain pushed into her heart.

She closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

She wanted Eric. Her fingers itched to touch him, to hold him close, and to have his body near hers. His was a presence that was comforting. She felt safe, protected whenever he was around. She had felt that way with Bill, but there had always been the possibility of a risk of not being safe with him. With Eric, that possibility was still there, but she never felt it. She allowed herself to believe that with a hundred-percent certainty Eric would not let anything happen to her.

Sookie swallowed hard when something Eric had said floated back to her mind.

'Everyone who claims to love you—your friends, your brother, even Bill Compton—I. Never. Did.'

Sookie wondered if that was still true, or if he had given up on her now. Letting out a long breath, Sookie guessed she couldn't blame him if he had.

The question remained. Would she like to be his?

Sookie smiled a little sadly with her eyes closed. The answer was yes, but it wasn't a solid, easy, positive answer. It hurt to give, but it hurt to stay silent as well. She swallowed past the emotion in her throat and hoped that there was still a connection between the two of them. She hoped he could hear her.

She took a deep breath, and then spoke to the darkness of her bedroom.

"Eric, please…I want you. I want to tell you something. Please…please come."

Listening intently, for any sound or trace of footsteps, Sookie waited. The crickets still chirped loudly, the faint breeze swept into her room and her curtains stirred with the movement of air. She shifted on the bed and the frame squeaked only a little. Her breathing, her heartbeat remained the same, albeit sped up a little from her anticipation of his arrival.

As the minutes ticked by, one, two, fifteen, thirty, Sookie felt a solid weight settle on her chest. Her eyes closed again, but this time tears trickled out and slowly moved down her cheeks. She sniffled, the loud sound prominent in the otherwise quiet room.

He wasn't coming.

That was the last thought she had before she fell into an empty, dreamless slumber.