Summary: Something in the air changed in that moment as his hand brushed my upper arm softly. The heat from the afternoon disappeared, as if I had been plunged into a freezer. Goosebumps erupted across my skin. Patch froze, sensing the difference too. "Your skin is cold."

It took a moment for me to understand what he said. "What?" I finally asked when I found my voice...

A new challenge arises as Patch is mysteriously given the sensation of feeling. As Nora plays with the idea of love, her emotions are put to the test as she struggles to suppress her deepest desire.

Author's Note: Well, I thought I would try my hand in another universe besides the Mortal Instruments. Writers block brought about this story, based on a "What if?" concept and I just went with it. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hush, Hush. It all belongs to Becca Fitzpatrick.

Whenever I had a fleeting thought that verged on the R rated, I could tell that my mind was no longer locked up; rather, it was on full display. I hadn't meant to let my thoughts drift so dangerously bold, but when I thought of Patch these days, I couldn't help it. It also didn't help that he was lying on my bed without a shirt on, exposing his rock-hard abs.

We had just finished repainting my mother's bedroom earlier in the afternoon and it was a good estimate to say that half of the paint ended up on our shirts. Of course, when I suggested Patch remove his shirt, he insinuated that I do the same. I refused, but compromised with a tank top I knew he liked.

My mother was due back from her business trip this evening and there was always the chance that she would make it home earlier. She had been so busy with catching up on work after the fiasco in our house that she hadn't managed to get around to properly restoring her bedroom until late in the summer. The house insurance covered most of the damage, paying for carpenters to gut and re-do the room, but paint was not covered. The last thing I wanted was our surprise to be overshadowed by my mother walking in on us, both shirtless. She would assume the worst.

Daring as I was, I allowed Patch to see my exposed back while I swapped shirts. When I joined him on my bed, he refused to let my legs go covered up and pushed up the ends of my sweatpants, thoroughly exposing my long calves. I couldn't complain, really. It was late August and Coldwater had been hit by an unusually hot week. It was terrible, considering how much I naturally sweat on any given day.

I was lying on my back, my legs outstretched, being drawn on by Patch when the same worry came crashing back into my conscious mind.

"You want to know what I still don't understand?" I couldn't help but ask.

Patch stopped scribbling on my foot long enough to look up and smile. "What?"

"How is it that you can be with me now, but before, when you went after women, you fell?" I couldn't help but look away when his eyes met mine. It wasn't that I was ashamed, but more afraid of what the answer would be. In the back of my mind, whenever we kissed, a tiny part of me worried that he would lose his wings again, by being with me.

"It's different now," he only said.

"How so?" I pressed on.

"It's love, not lust, that I feel for you. It makes all the difference."

Love. I pondered the word. I knew he loved me, it was obvious in the way he acted around me, how he spoke. I had known it since that fateful night with Jules, where I had sacrificed myself for him. He could have taken a human body, but he didn't, because he loved me. And he had never put so many words together in a sentence before. This was the first time he said he loved me out loud.

The realisation of that made me suck in an unexpected breath. Patch noticed and gave me a strange look. "Something wrong Angel?"

"No," I hardly breathed out.

Patch didn't buy it. I could tell he was in my mind then, filtering through my previous train of thoughts, locating the exact point of my change in behaviour. I never thought of that, he said to my mind. But it doesn't change anything, really. I'm still the sexy Patch you've always known, and wanted, he added, for his own benefit I wagered.

"Not everything is for my own benefit."

I sat up and hit him lightly on the arm. He had my hand in his before I could pull it back.

"You don't deny it."

"You wouldn't believe me if I did," I said. "Besides, you're not supposed to be in my mind anymore. Being a Guardian Angel and all," I reminded him, not actually bothered by the fact that he still peeked into my thoughts at random. He was never one for sticking to the rules.

He winked at me and kissed my palm. I couldn't help but sigh at his simple gesture.

"I like how you look when you do that. I can only imagine what kind of sounds you'd make if you were, say, naked—"

"Patch!" I could feel my face flushing. I tried to pull my hand out of his, to use it to cover my face, but he wouldn't let go.

"And that blush. I could just picture it all over your body..." This time he trailed off because I moaned in humiliation. Then I realised what kind of sound I made and smacked my forehead with my free hand.

"Can you stop it?" I pleaded. I didn't think my skin could feel any more heated, even in a desert sun.

He finally dropped my hand and I pulled it back to my chest. Instead of continuing his art on my foot, he inched his way slowly, until we were sitting side by side. He pulled on my arm, trying to get me into his lap. It didn't take much convincing and I was straddling his lap, my knees flush against his sides. My hands made their way onto his chest, feeling the smooth panes his muscles created. "Do you ever work out?"

Patch gave me a look that said "are you serious?"

"It's just that you're so..." I struggled for the right word.

"Physically fit," he suggested.

"Yes, but—"

"There's a but?"

"I mean, I'm so soft and so not perfect that it still seems hard to believe that you want me."

Patch let out a loud breath, possibly a sign of how absurd he thought I was being. "Do you really think that matters to me? I'm not vain. Besides," he paused to run one finger down my thigh, "with legs like these you could have any man you wanted." He smiled and leaned forward, his minty breath spreading across my face. I involuntarily licked my lips. Patch didn't miss it.

He put his hands on my face, bringing me closer to him, but didn't close the distance completely. The rest of the gap had to be covered by me.

There was a high trilling sound that filled the room and a spun around in surprise. Over on my dresser my cell phone was ringing. I went to move to get it, but Patch held my hips in a vice grip.

"Leave it," he said. "You can call whoever it is back later."

I thought about it, but decided otherwise. "It could be my mom," I reasoned.

"You owe me." Patch let go of my hips and I darted off the bed to catch the call before it went to voicemail. "Hello?" I said before I had the phone completely to my ear.

"Nora!" Vee's voice rang out. "Omigosh, it took you long enough to pick up. What were you doing? Or should I be asking who? I bet Patch is there right now. Is he?"

I didn't answer.

Vee took my silence as a yes. "Gross, you two really need to spend some time apart. You've been attached at the hip all summer. I need girl time—like, immediately. There's this blow-out sale at Victoria's Secret and I know you need more sexy underwear."

Patch was watching me intently. A ghost of a smile played on his lips. I slyly turned down the volume on my phone, convinced that Patch could hear everything that Vee said. Then I turned around to face the window, knowing how well my face gave away what I was feeling. "I don't know, Vee," I told her. "My mom is going to be back home tonight from her trip. I should be here when she gets home."

I could practically hear her eyes rolling. "That's why we have to go ASAP. Besides, the Neon needs some love from you too. You've neglected the car just as much as you've neglected me. We'll only be a couple of hours."

I weighed my opinions quickly. Stay with Patch, or shop with Vee.

Go with her, Patch encouraged.

Sighing, I said, "pick me up in thirty?"

Vee squealed on the other end. "I'll give you ten. I'm out the door already."