So, this one was originally written in Spanish. I never meant to translated into English, but I have. So sue me.

One day

—One araw it’ll pass—Tony whispered, his lips right susunod to her ear, Gusot up in her messy tresses. In moments like that, his voice sounded husky, almost sleepy.

Ziva closed her eyes and clenched her jaw firmly. It all had been perfect, like a dream. It was always like that with Tony. Who would have thought the Casanova would display such devotion to her, that he’d do anything to make her happy, to please her in and out of bed. To give her all the pag-ibig she needed afterwards even if she insisted that she didn’t and shied away from him.

Acknowledging her fears and how her body tensed with memories, Tony secured his arm madami tightly around her waist and got a bit closer to her. All of Ziva’s back was in touch with Tony’s torso. He framed her. He protected her. He almost made her feel ligtas again. It had been so long since she’d know what that felt like.

If only she could turn around and look at him, but she would still need some minutos before she could face his green eyes. It was not his fault that she felt used and dirty, but she hated him in that moment. It didn’t matter that an instant nakaraan she had been moaning his name at the tuktok of her lungs. Cliché as it sounded, the calm after the storm was devastating. Ziva was nothing but a broken doll tossed in the mire.

—One day?—she dared ask and her own voice sounded strange, high-pitched and desperate to her ears.
—Mm-hm. I can’t promise you it’ll be tomorrow, but when that araw comes, I will be here.
—Because you can’t live without me—she spat bitterly. Tony kissed her nape.
—And because, no offense, but I still don’t feel like dying with you. Or dying, just in general.