p style="text-align: left;"Alexander "Tig" Trager paused for just a moment, turning back to the sleeping form in the bed. After the slightest hesitation, where he contemplated the possibility of emnot /embeing the asshole he usually was, he knelt down next to the mattress, elbows on the edge. Peering into her face, half-hidden by her dark hair spilling over her cheek, he knew it was too late to avoid being an asshole./p
p style="text-align: left;"This was, by far, one of the worst things he'd ever done. And he'd done some fucked-up shit, to be sure. But emthis /em… this even gave emhim /ema bad taste in his mouth./p
p style="text-align: left;"An asshole. He was emsuch /eman asshole./p
p style="text-align: left;"He reached out with one hand to carefully slide her hair back around her neck, uncovering that face, so sweet and vulnerable in sleep./p
p style="text-align: left;"He didn't emdo /emsweet. He didn't emlike /emsweet. He owed it to sweet to just leave it alone and walk away./p
p style="text-align: left;"But he hadn't. God knew he fucking tried, but … the asshole that he was could not be denied./p
p style="text-align: left;""I'm sorry," he whispered quietly, flinching that she might actually wake and hear it. The he stood, slunk from her room and silently shut the door behind him./p

p style="text-align: left; To read the rest of the story please visit the Freak Circle Press blog: fan-fiction/c-d-breadnerfuzzypeaches1/ /p