EastEnders 1. Chapter 1

3am.

Syed was snoring peacefully next to me, his soft snores making the bed rumble.

Lucky him.

My sleep had become dangerously sporadic, the little sleep I did get led to me waking with my heart pounding with beads of sweat clinging to my tired body. One bead of sweat was regret, another sadness for the lies I was telling to my husband- in all but name. The countless other drops of sweat were tinged with dread and horror for the nightmare that had become my life. I shivered in my bed, though I had lately taken to sleeping clothed lest Syed should _see_ my weight loss, rather than just feel it when we embraced. It was alarming, even I could see that. The duvet was wrapped tightly around me. I was not really shivering from cold. The reason I was shivering was from pure and simple fear. People thought because I was tall and (formerly) muscular, I was incapable of being afraid but that was far from the truth. God, how I wish I was incapable of being scared. The ticking of the clock scared me. Hell, it made me clutch the duvet closer to myself, willing time to stop while I lazed in the cocoon-like feeling of safety. I wished it would forever stay 3:00am,that time would refuse to budge from that moment, that I wouldn't have to wait, breath held, for the inevitable buzzing of my mobile phone...

Every tick was another moment where I had to mentally look behind my shoulder, where I caught my breath in anticipation. Another second dominated by someone I had stupidly let into our life.

As I lay here, Syed murmured dream babbling I'd heard from no one but him.

As I lay here, cats fought, their miaows echoing across the street.

As I lay here, a tear I didn't even know I had inside of me came streaming out.

As I lay here, the moment I didn't want to happen came to fruition.

3:01 am.

_Buzz_.

Anxious, I glanced quickly at Syed who had stirred. Seeing him still encumbered by sleep, I gathered all of my nonexistent courage, picked up my shredded nerves and looked at my phone, with no small amount of fear.

I noted, with a dim, distant surprise, that the message was longer than usual.

_In the lounge_. In the lounge? How the hell had he got into our house? Heart beating like an African drum, I looked at the rest of the message.

The overall message read:

_In the lounge. Just want to talk. This will stop now. Promise._

_R x_

That superfluous kiss sent shockwaves through my brain. It hadn't finished had it? I didn't think it would finish, not until he'd got what he wanted. But he'd said it would stop. The months of torment, the texts at 3:01 every morning without fail, the notes, the fear, the worry... it just had to stop.

Every night. _Every _night! I didn't think I'd ever stop hating myself for letting The Devil (as I called him) into our lives. Syed thought he was just a nuisance, annoying but ultimately harmless. I knew better...

The consequences of telling the police (again), telling my Syed, telling _anyone _would be so dire I couldn't even allow myself to conceive it.

Heart heavy, limbs weak from weeks of not eating properly (as the harassment had intensified), I dragged my bones out of bed. I was so _thin, _the muscles I had spent hours cultivating in the gym had dwindled to a sallow map of tendons and sinew. I'd had to quit my job as a personal trainer, who would hire someone who looked like me? I was surprised I didn't rattle. Syed had been alarmed by my weight loss, though I'd tried, futilely, to hide it under baggy clothes. I suppose that had been the giveaway. Christian Clarke without his trademark skin tight vests was a sure sign something was wrong. Syed had tried to get me to go to a doctor, I'd snapped at him, told him I was fine. I'd long ago vowed never to hide a thing from him but this... this was too terrible, too fantastical to divulge, and who knew what would happen if I breathed a word?

I gazed at Syed. My beautiful, loving, selfless Syed. The man who had once signed his personal happiness away to please parents who would never love him unconditionally. The person in the world who meant everything to me. The person who, sorry for the cliché, was my world.

I whispered 'I love you', the sound dying before it had even left my lips.

I slumped heavily to the lounge, thinking about how someone I barely knew could worm his way so insidiously into my life that I had almost forgotten a time when Syed and I had been happy. Genuinely, nauseatingly happy. He had caused a dark cloud to obscure the sunshine in our life, and though the cloud would, in time, dissipate, I had no doubts that shadows would be left behind to haunt us. He had seen to that. I would never stop hating him, or myself, for that.

I wish I could say lightening struck and the wind began to howl as I saw _him _sitting ever so casually on the settee, like it was his own home, like he wasn't an absolutely mental intruder, like he was invited, but no, nothing as dramatic as that ever appears to happen in real life. It would be great if God or Karma or whatever, did dish out such warnings. 'Stay away from this person.' All I had to go on was gut instinct and unfortunately, in this case, it had failed me.

He didn't even look up as I entered the room. Apparently, even I the supposed love of his life (I feel sick even thinking that!) was not enough of a distraction to stop him from his brooding.

'You took your time.' He said, playing with the tassel of a cushion. 'I was beginning to think you didn't want to see me.' He smirked, savouring the taste of irony in his mouth.

I clenched my fists and swallowed down the curses I wanted to hurtle at him, the words that would cause a cage to surround him so tightly he would never be able to escape.

'What the hell do you want Richard?' I spat, viciously. It wasn't in my nature to be so aggressive but then again, it also wasn't in my nature to spend most nights awake or to leave Syed in bed if I could be with him and help him defend the spectres that came to him when he slept.

I was so tired of this. I know it sounds cruel but I wished he'd just go harass someone else. Why the hell did it have to be us? We'd been through so much already, bloody Romeo and Juliet had nothing on us. I was tired of his fucking _twisted _presence and tired of the fear and the mind games and the anticipation that things would stop and the sinking feeling when I realised it hadn't. That it, even after 6 months, a restraining order, the Incident I can't even speak of and nothing but pain, still hadn't stopped.

'Because, in case you hadn't realised -which you probably have considering you refuse to _leave me the fuck alone_- I have someone I love- who by the way, is not you and I'm really, _really _fucking tired of your stupid fucking obsession! '

That was relatively cool in comparison to how much vitriol I wanted to throw at him. I bit my lip. The tale-tale salty, slightly rusty taste of blood trickled into my mouth.

_Careful Christian. _I admonished myself. _Don't make him angry, remember what happened the last time ..._

The thought crept almost unbidden into my head. I pushed it away, locking the thought up in the 'Later' file in my head and throwing away the key. Emotion would do no good here. Don't show him anything. Keep your cards close to your chest...

Richard got up, loping closer to me. He looked at me with an expression that would have been injured on a person who was sane. His eyes were chilling. Cold and dispassionate.

'Oh Christian...' He chuckled, a cold humourless sound. 'I know you. You don't want to tell me, because of _him _upstairs. But, I know the truth.' His hand inched towards me. I pushed him, violently. He fell on the floor, looking up at me with eyes that had, if possible, become even more icy and almost inhuman. He looked like a machine.

'What the _fuck _are you doing here?' I sprung at him, not knowing what I wanted to do, but only knowing I needed to silence him, I needed his presence gone.

He laughed again, spit flying in the air. 'To talk. Why else?'

'Talk? _Talk? _' I laughed, actually finding him hilariously funny. He looked at me like he'd missed the punchline of a joke. Of course, he didn't realise he _was _the joke.

The air in the room changed and the laughter slowly died from my lips. 'You need help.' I said quietly. 'You need serious psychological help. You're going to leave right now. I will call the police, I don't think they'll be happy to know you violated your restraining order. You can't do anything else to us-'

'Oh... can't I?' His voice was ominously quiet. The room became quiet, even the routine night time noises ceased to be.

I darted for the phone that was on the coffee table. Quickly, he stuck out a leg. In my weakened state, I was no match for him and he knew it.

'You don't want to do that.' His voice was so quiet, I almost couldn't hear it. He put his hand in his pocket, eyes finding the floor very interesting.

'I'll think you'll find,' He yanked me upright sharply. I recoiled from his grip. 'I _can _hurt you and your precious Syed.'

Before I registered what was happening, a revolver was pointed straight at my heart.

I froze.

'Go on.' He drawled lazily. 'Call the police.' He moved the revolver away from me and made a sweeping motion at the phone. I hesitantly made a move towards the phone, all the while, wondering if he had really given up his obsession-

'I'll just kill Syed.'

Those four words made my blood turn to ice. I had never liked clichés, had teased Syed for frequently using them, but only now had I realised they were clichés for a reason. They were true.

I stared at him in abject horror.

Everything had started out so innocently. Jane's friends. A party. Just another night.

How had it come to this?


	2. Chapter 2

To everyone who thought the last chapter was depressing, hope this one's a little more light-hearted. I plan to intersperse the creepy Richard moments with some happier moments.

Though I've already written most of this out and it stips being so depressing in the 4th chapter and mostly deals with the aftermath. So yeah, just a little heads-up.

Anyway please R+R even if it's to say what you think could be better etc.

Reviews are like golddust and they're very much appreciated.

I'll shut up now!

* * *

_Then..._

_

* * *

_

I woke to warm lips teasing my skin.

'You're finally awake!' Syed smiled, triumphant at his success. 'I was beginning to wonder what else I'd have to do to get you up!'

'What's the time?' I asked, rubbing my eyes and panicking about the number of clients I had ahead.

'It's only 6:30. Your first client is at 8 right?' I kissed his temple, feeling warm that he knew.

' I thought we could have breakfast together before work.'

'Great- oi!' Syed whisked the covers off me with a devilish grin.

'Come on Superman! You can't stay in bed all day! At least not without me.' He teased. I felt the familiar hardening in my groin at Syed's words.

Even now, I was amazed how quickly desire took hold. I had heard from friends who had settled down that the sex had become nonexistent, infrequent or worst of all, just plain rubbish, but that wasn't the case with Syed and I.

As cheesy as it sounds, our sex life bloomed as our love did. Syed smirked at me, not even attempting to hide the way he was appraising me. 'Shut up.' I grumbled, pulling on the oversized shirt that had somehow ended up wedged under my pillow in the hasty disbandment of our clothes last night.

'I didn't say anything.' Syed replied, looking angelic. Well if an angel could smile with the dirtiest, lust filled expression ever. He pulled me out of bed. 'Come on. Breakfast.' His grin told me there would be more than breakfast on offer if I played my cards right.

I rummaged through the fridge, trying to find something edible. I grimaced, spotting a mouldy loaf of bread. 'How long has _that _been in there?' I brandished the offending loaf. Syed shrugged.

'Think you're gonna have to go to the Minute Mart.'

I pulled a face at him.

'Oh how mature!' He poked me in the ribs. 'I wasn't joking this time!' We'd had a long running joke about what he termed 'my obsession' with the Minute Mart and what I called 'basic pantry ordering'. He often laughed at me, claiming I had a secret crush on Patrick what with the amount of time I spent there.

'Oh!' I raised an eyebrow at Syed as he leapt out of his chair.

'Coffee.' He supplied, as he pulled out the jug of perfectly brewed coffee and grabbed two mugs from the side board and placed them on the table with a bang. He poured me a mug of coffee then poured one for himself.

'Mmm.' I said, taking a sip. 'What would I do without you?'

He thought for a moment.

'Have really rubbish coffee?'

He taught me kona coffee beans were the best ('what is this French rubbish?') and I taught him how to take coffee black ('cream ruins it!')

Coffee, or rather the way we drank it, seemed to sum up the rhythm of our relationship quite nicely.

A whole lot of compromise, willingness to wait until acquired taste became as natural as breathing and steaming hot... um... _coffee_.

Taking him off guard, I straddled him and kissed him long and hard, tasting the coffee on his breath. It really was much better than what I'd been having for years. Much, like my relationship with Syed, really. I pulled away, grinning at his ragged breath. 'So what do you have planned today Mr. Branch Manager?' He'd recently got promoted in his job at a local estate agents, I was surprised actually, not by his promotion, just that it had taken them so long to do so. I was also surprised that the houses Syed valued and sold, went far outside the perimeters of Walford.

'Um... got a few houses to survey.' He teased, knowing I wasn't _really _asking about his job. I kissed his neck, feeling him shiver. 'The one on Bridge Street and then the other one on Bishop's Avenue.'

I stopped kissing him. 'Bishop's Avenue? Isn't that the millionaire's row place? Sy that's brilliant!' I whooped.

He smiled modestly. 'I'm getting a bit worried about it Christian. I mean, there's so much to do and what if I don't-'

'Shhh.' I stroked his hair. 'If anyone can do it, you can Sy.' His face lit up.

'Thank you.' He said, sincerely. I felt my stomach flip. It was a mystery how after the almost 2 years we'd been together, 3 and a half if you counted the affair days, the simplest things could overwhelm me with a rush of love for this man.

'Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you.' He held up an envelope. 'This came for us. You know Jane's friends, the Wainwrights? They've invited us to a party next week. I dunno, might do us good?'

We _had _been holed up inside for a while, preferring each other's company to other people's. It probably wasn't healthy. It definitely wasn't healthy. We were probably only one step down from the couples who checked each other's text messages! I guess after so long fighting everything and everyone, fighting each other, we'd enjoyed the moments of relative peace where Walford had accepted us as a couple, his family, bar Tam and Kamil, left us alone and my family had been there in the background, silently supporting us. Perhaps we'd enjoyed it a little _too_ much. I couldn't remember the last time we'd been out as a couple.

Syed suggesting the party was a sign of how much our relationship had changed him. He'd never been a big party-goer. He would never have suggested going to a party, we would have gone grudgingly to please me but he would _never _have instigated it.

My idea of fun was certainly not spending it with a bunch of middle aged do-gooders, who would pretend to be oh-so-liberal by tolerating the gay couple and talk about their donations to charity that they only made to make themselves feel better.

Syed had read my mind. 'Oh stop being so cynical Christian! They're not that bad!'

I made a noise of disagreement. He laughed. 'Ok, maybe they're a little holier than thou but... Ian and Jane will be there. When I bumped into Jane last week she was lamenting the fact she never sees us anymore. Come on, Christian. Please.' I didn't need much persuading. Not when he was looking at me like _that_. Head tilted, eyes big, lips parted... How could I say no?

'Why not?' It could even turn out to be fun.

Syed kissed me jubilantly. I returned the kiss, matching Syed's jubilance with passion. I broke off the kiss for a moment and placed the coffee jugs and mugs safely on the floor. He laughed at me, pulling me closer to him as his fingers undid the buttons that held my shirt to my body. I picked him up and lay him on the kitchen table. He let out a giggle of delight, a sound that made my heart soar. I kissed him, laughing into his mouth. Moments like these were what I lived for. Pure, unabandoned joy.

Time stopped and breakfast was forgotten as we explored each other's bodies.

How I wish now, I'd suggested we stay home and watch a film.

I suppose retrospect is a powerful thing.


End file.

EastEnders