The seventeen year old girl stared wide-eyed at the clock, knowing she'd better head home. But the man sitting on the edge of the bed, his white dress-shirt ruffled and his tie on the floor, was protesting. The clock was wrong, he said, though she knew it was a lie. Just stay here a bit longer. Stay with me. She knew she should go. It really was late, too late for her to stay. But the brass bed he was sitting on was comfortable. She knew she didn't want to leave. It's too cold out for a pretty little thing like you. Stay with me, he repeated. She wasn't very hard to convince.

Two hours later, she noticed the clock again. It was staring at her now, reasoning with her. It was even later. She had to leave soon. They hadn't moved for the last two hours, sitting on the edge of the bed. Staring into each other's eyes. Talking. Letting their deepest secrets spill out, things they'd never told anyone else. It was a bond like the girl had never felt before, and she didn't want to betray it by leaving. Stay with me, he pleaded again, his eyes so sincere. She nodded, and once again was not hard to convince.

Two more hours. Another flood of secrets. Things that she never thought she'd tell anyone, never thought she could tell anyone, were just pouring freely from her mouth, and the same for him. The clock caught her eye, and she considered it. But he saw the flash in her eye. Stay with me, he begged again, and she leaned into his arms and signalled for him to keep talking. The rhythm of his breathing, the beating of his heart, he soft music that was his voice, echoing in her ears and calming her. Maybe a couple more hours wouldn't hurt.

I don't want to leave, she said. I want to stay here with you.

Then don't leave, he soothed. You don't have to go. Stay with me tonight, baby.

I need to get home, you know that, she murmured into his chest.

One night. One night, we can pretend.

One night, she conceeded. And the secrets continued to pour forth.

Two more hours. His lips finally captured hers, a feeling of bliss she'd never experienced before. The world froze, and for a moment, and the clock didn't matter. All that mattered was him, and her, and... we.

Two more hours. They'd run out of secrets, and were simply telling stories. Funny stories, sad stories, life-changing stories. Stories that made them see each other in a different light. Stories of family dying, of friends playing games, of holidays and meals and celebrations. They sat in the middle of bed together and laughed, his arm holding her tight to him as if he'd escape. The thought had left her mind long ago.

Two more hours. The girl sighed as she stared at the clock again. It was 5 am, and she knew it was time to leave.

Listen, he whispered, do you hear it? It's raining. Why would a pretty little thing like you want to go out in the rain?

The rain's not so bad, she whispered back, resisting his sweet voice and the temptation of his cologne. I need to go.

Don't go. Stay here with me. It's already the morning. What could it hurt?

Everything, she answered softly, and they both knew it was true. But once again, he found it wasn't very difficult to persuade.

A/n: I hope you liked it. :3 Just a little blurb I felt like writing while listening to Stay with Me (Brass Bed) by Josh Gracin, I'd suggest you go look it up. So, if you liked it, review! And if you didn't like it... review anyway, and tell me what I could've done better! In a pleasant fashion of course. I suppose I can't stop flaming if you intend to do so, but that doesn't help me improve, now does it? Thanks for reading!