AN: Hi I removed my old stories because they weren't really going anywhere but I have creative energy to burn so… Please be super harsh. I need it.
It's dark and warm in my room. The house is quiet. We've been quiet. We're listening. Waiting. Hoping my father won't wake. Wake up to find a teenage boy's arms wrapped around his teenage daughter. He's already been through too much. I don't want to be the one to send him over the edge.
"So." He murmurs softly. He's patting my back like it's supposed to reassure me or something but in reality it makes me feel like a dog. Too much like he's rewarding me for doing a trick.
"Uh…yeah." I know it's not the response he's looking for. But I think it's all I can give him. He's staring at me and it's making me uncomfortable. He can't expect me to have all the answers. So I roll over.
"You're quiet. You're never quiet." He's switched from patting to rubbing. Rubbing smallish circles on my back. That's better. More reassuring. Less irritating. I want to say something. Anything. But my tongue can't form the words. My mind can't conceive the thoughts.
"What do you want me to say?" My voice rises in pitch. He wants me to tell him I love him. Wants me to tell him I want him. No, that I need him. I don't think he'll ask for it though. He's too scared. I hear him wetting his lips. It's that quiet in the room. So quiet that I can hear him his tongue glide across his full bottom lip.
"You don't have to say anything." His voice sounds far away. Maybe I'm just tired. The day was long and I feel it. The rain has started again. A gentle pitter patter against my window pane.
"Thank you." I roll over so he can see my face. And so he'll stop breathing on my neck. It's giving me goose bumps. His eyes are closed but they don't look wet like mine. He opens them and I take in the shock of green. So familiar, yet surprising. And his lips they're there. Right there and close. I could lean in. He could lean in. I don't want a pity kiss but I know I want him.
"Don't sweat it." He whispers it and it hangs in the air. Warm, sweet, and friendshippy. It's cloying my mind. Yesterday he was my best friend and now he's got his arms around me. Now we both want something different. Nothing like abandonment from your crazy mother to make you want jump your best friend's bones.
It's my turn to talk but I don't want to say anything. I lean closer. My pajama clad body pressing against his jeans and old sweater. No jumper I correct myself. Closer still this time I'm closing my eyes and the bed creaks slightly but I ignore it.
Albus isn't talking either now. Now he's pushing me on top of him. I lean down and brush my lips to his cheek. I'm too scared to kiss him. Too afraid I'll break this before it starts.
He beats me to it though. Wraps his arms tighter and opens his mouth for the kiss. And it's weird because he's different not like Thomas who invaded my mouth his tongue or Chris who was entirely too handsy. He's sweet and gentle. Moving at my pace. I moan softly and put my hands in his crazy hair.
He pulls away and finds my ear in the dark. "Tell me to stop." He pauses. He wants it too.
I'm about to tell him no. Tell him I want more. When I hear the door swing open and hit my wall. Then the light flash on and suddenly we're both pushing each other away He's up and out of my bed legs still entwined in my sheets. Stuttering out apologies. He's saying something but I'm too shocked to listen. My father he's angry. Really angry. And Albus is stuttering and trying to fix his clothing and hair and trying to convince my father that I wasn't on top of him.
And I, Bambi Marie Macmillan am royally screwed.
