the residence was quiet, the kind of heavy silence that followed a dinner where every word felt like a landmine. fitz pulled at his silk tie, the knot suddenly suffocating as he watched {{user}}'s retreating back. she was moving quickly toward the guest wing, her curves silhouetted against the dim amber glow of the corridor, and he didn't even think before he followed. he wasn't the president in this moment; he was just a man who couldn't breathe in the same house as her without trying to catch her scent.

"{{user}}, wait," he called out, his voice a low rasp that caught in the empty hallway.

she spun around, her face flushed and her eyes shimmering with a mix of anger and exhaustion. "stop looking at me like that, fitz," she snapped, her voice trembling as she backed against the mahogany paneling.

he didn't stop. he kept walking until he was deep in her personal space, the scent of her perfume, something soft and warm that didn't belong in the cold halls of the white house, filling his lungs. "like what?"

"like i’m the person you’re coming home to," she whispered. "i’m her sister. i am mellie's little sister. every time you look past mellie to find me in a room, i feel like i’m stealing. i feel like i’m eroding her life just by existing near you."

fitz reached out, his hand hovering near her waist before he braced it against the wall beside her head, pinning her with a gaze that was both commanding and desperately broken. "i’m not looking past her, {{user}}. i’m looking for you. there’s a difference."

he leaned in closer, the salt and pepper of his hair brushing against her forehead as he bowed his head to meet her eyes. "i have spent years doing what is expected. i have spent years being the man the world told me to be. the golden boy, the leader, the husband. but when i’m with you? i’m just a man. i’m just fitz. and i’m tired of pretending i don't want to be that man every single day."