Authors Note: Guys, this is my first Attempt at a One-shot, so go easy on me, yea? I wrote this to help with my small amount of writers block, so I hope you guys like it. I'll be updating my other stories too, so do not fret. REVIEW,REVIEW, REVIEW & ENJOY (:
Soundtrack: Local Natives-Mt Washington , Local Natives-Three Months, Cider Sky-Pieces
I place my index finger on the small little button and press down, capturing the deep-blue waves crashing down on the Big Rocks near the Oceans Shore. I lower my Camera down and let it hang around my neck, my eyes looking out at the view. I've been coming here for 12 years and I still can't seem to pull myself away from the orange and pink rays taking up the sky. This is usually where I come to escape from my reality, but today . . . I was here for a different reason.
I turn my head to the side and look at the small little figure, leaning against the wooden railing. The way her hair sways softly with the gentle wind, the way her head tilts back as the cool breeze sinks into her pores, she was everyone's dream of beauty. For as long as I can remember, I've looked at her in ways one shouldn't look at their own flesh and blood, but I can't help it. There's something about my Sister that makes my heart skip a beat and my knees go weak.
"This is where you run to . . . when you think about me?"
She asks, opening her eyes slowly and looking out into the open air. I take in a deep breath and drop my head down, looking at the small little pebbles resting against my boots. It's been two weeks since my confession slipped from my own two lips. It's been two weeks since Sara looked at me with tears in her eyes and demanded to know why I was in love with her. It's been two weeks since she said, "I can't do this," and walked out of my apartment.
But this morning, I woke up and found my Sister sleeping on my couch, one small suitcase by the door. When I woke her up, she didn't look at me with any disgust like the last time, she looked at me with pleading eyes and said, "Take me to the place you said you run to." I didn't question her request because to be honest, I wanted her to see it. I wanted her to see the view that helped me push away my feelings for her, even if it was only for a moment. And the moments I forget about her are absolute bliss, because not only do I forget about my sick-twisted passion for her, but I also convince myself that I'm completely normal.
"How long?"
She asks, making me lift my head back up. I look out at the Rocks by the edge of the Shore and remember my first time here. I wouldn't stop crying because I had finally realized that the strange infatuation I had with my Sister was something more deep then curiosity. It was Love.
"Since I was 15."
I say, feeling a breeze brush passed my skin. For 15 years, I kept it inside. For 15 years I've dreaded waking up because she's never there when I fall asleep. Everyday, For 15 years . . . I've struggled with my Sanity, while my Sister is living her life in New York.
I turn my head towards her and stare at her face. Her hair still blowing with the Chilly West Coast Air, her expressionless features staring out at Catalina Island, and the Orange Glow casting upon her face; letting me see the small tear slowly roll down her cheek.
"Even when you're crying . . . you're still beautiful."
I whisper to myself, finding something about the sight in front of me to be oddly breath-taking. My Sister was slowly crumbling to pieces right in front of me, because of me, and I still can't help but think how beautiful her fall is.
I place both of my hands back on my Camera and slowly bring it up to my face, my right eye looking through the lens. This was a moment I wanted to capture, even though she might not want to remember it, I do. This would be one of those pictures people hide in the drawer of their nightstands. The ones that kill you each time you look at it, but you still can't muster up enough strength to look away.
I press down on the little button and capture the live scene. I lower my Camera back down to the place against my chest and bring my hands down; placing them in my jacket pockets. She takes in a deep breath and slowly turns her head towards me, her watery eyes connecting with mine for the first time since we've been here at Ranchos Palos Verdes.
"Have you ever cried over me before?"
She whispers, blinking out a fresh new batch of tears. I tear my eyes off of her and look back out to the calm waves, trying to remember how many times I've cried for her; how many times I've sat in the shower convincing myself that the water on my face was only from the shower-head.
"All the time."
I whisper, slowly moving my feet and making my way towards the wooden railing. I lean my arms against the thick timber and let out a small sigh. I must sound pathetic, crying for someone who isn't even mine.
"I'm sorry."
I mumble, dropping my head down and shaking it lightly. I wasn't ready for this, any of this.
"I'm so . . . sorry."
I say again, my eyes stinging with water. I close them and feel my lips begin to tremble as I hear the sound of her soft-broken voice.
"For what . . ?"
I open my eyes and the puddle that was once held together, breaks; rolling down my face like a flowing river. I turn my head to the side and look at her, finding her already staring at me with a pair of familiar pleading eyes.
"For everything, Sara."
I admit. She tears her eyes off mine and looks down to her fingers, fiddling away with them as they rest on the wood. I bring my eyes down to her fingers too and watch as her index finger lightly shakes as it traces the indents in her palm.
"Just, everything."
I repeat, turning to look at the large-clear island in front of me.
"What's everything?"
In all Honesty, the way I see it, I shouldn't be sorry. How can I be Sorry for loving someone who has been there for me through thick and thin, who has soothed me at my most fearful times? For me not to be in love with her, would be the wrong thing. But here she is, crying in front of me, because I'm tearing her insides apart . . . I owe her more than just a bunch of unmeaningful apologies.
"You don't want to know . . ."
I tell her, dropping my head back down and looking at the dirt on my boots.
"I do. I want to know what you're sorry for, Tegan."
My heart starts to beat faster inside the pit of my chest. She wasn't the only one falling now, I was too. But her fall was much more different from mine, she has someone here to catch her, I don't. If I were to tell her everything right here, now, I would lose my Sister after the 2nd confession. What was more important at this moment though, My Sanity that seems ready to explode at any moment, or losing someone that's causing the Insanity to Over-Run my Clear state of Mind?
"When we were 15 . . . I used to sneak into your room to watch you sleep. I would just sit there for hours, asking myself why I love to watch your chest rise and fall . . . I still don't know why I love to watch it, but I do . . . and I'm sorry for that.
When we were 19 . . . you decided to Move all the way to New York. You would get mad at me because I would call you 24/7 . . . you always scolded me for bugging you. But it was because I missed you . . . I missed having you sleep right across the hall from me in our Shoe-Box Apartment. I'm sorry for clinging to you, for missing you.
When I used to bring random girls home . . . I would wake up the next morning and just stare at them; trying to find features in them that resembled you . . . and after years of searching a different face each night,Sara, I realized that none of them could even compare to you. And for that, I'll always be Sorry.
But I can't help it, Sara. I can't. I've fallen in love with the pieces of you that people normally don't find beautiful . . . I guess when it comes to down to what I'm really sorry for . . . it's falling in love with broken-perfection . . . it's falling in love with you."
I blink and feel more tears break at the rims of my eyes. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be . . . but maybe the worst has yet to come. Maybe her brain is still processing the meaning behind my words . . .
"Look at me . . . "
Sara says, pulling me away from my thoughts. I slowly lift my head and stare at her through the tears. She was crying even harder now, her cheeks flooded in salty water, her eyes red and swollen. Beautiful.She starts to take slow-small steps towards me, making my heart race as she gets closer and closer by the second. She stops right in front of me and looks straight into my eyes as she lifts both of her hands up to my face; placing them on my damp cheeks
"Look at what you're doing to me . . ."
She whispers, slowly starting to wipe away the water on my skin with her thumbs. It's like I'm coming home from the moon, waiting to enter Earths gravity so everything can just fall. Nothing good comes out of ruining someone's life . . . and as much as I keep telling myself to prepare for the moment she walks out of my life forever . . . I can't seem to even think about how my death will be.
"You're making me fall in love with you, now."
As her words linger through my mind, my heart falls into the pit of my stomach; my knees growing weaker by the second.
"Don't do that. . ."
I whisper, a pleading tone laced in my voice. I didn't need her to protect me from the real emotions that were swarming in her head, I needed her to be honest with me. Even though I have yearned to hear those words fall from her lips for years, I didn't want her to just throw them at me because she was afraid to hurt me . . . that would be worse.
"Don't be afraid to hurt me, Sara."
I whisper, closing my eyes slowly; preparing for the truth to come out. After a couple of seconds, nothing but pure silence; I start to wonder if she's ever going to say anything. I start to open my eyes, when I feel her soft lips press against mine, my heart stopping completely in my chest. This isn't happening.
I feel her gentle tongue graze my bottom lip and it was all that I needed to realize it; this is really happening. I part my lips for her, allowing her tongue to meet with mine. And when it does, the taste of her saliva sinks into my taste-buds; making my eyes roll into the back of my head. Her taste was stronger than any type of Liquor I have ever consumed, and the effects of alcohol couldn't even compare to what she was capable of making me do.
But just as I'm starting to melt in her hands, I feel her start to pull away. As much as I want to chase her lips back to where I feel they belong, I let them slip away from me; giving her time to process what she just did.
"I'm not."
I hear her whisper, feeling her hands lift up from my jaw and disappear. A strange wave a warmth leaves me and I can't help but feel like this was a Goodbye Kiss. She gave me something that I have imagined and craved for, for years, now it was time for her to go. I open my eyes and stare straight ahead, nothing but the open air in front of me. My eyes begin to sting more as I turn my head to the look at the view, hoping to forget her; when my eyes land on something more beautiful than the Ocean could ever give. Sara, sitting on the wooden railing, her hands resting at the sides of her thighs; while her bare chest rises and falls at a steady rhythm.
"Come here . . . "
She whispers, making me trails my eyes up from her collarbone to her eyes. The water is finally gone. I don't hesitate for another moment and slowly make my way over to her, standing right in front of her knees, her chest on display right in front of me. The last time I had seen Sara naked, we were 12 years old. She was barely getting used to her small little training bra. But now, her body looks unreal. Her beautiful-pale ivory skin . . . her breath-taking curves that present her body as an hourglass figure . . . and her breasts; firm from her buds stiffening up under the cool breeze.
"Touch me."
I hear her say, making me look right back to her eyes. She slowly parts her legs and brings her hands up to my pants, looping her two index fingers in the two front belt loops. She gently tugs me closer and I move my way between her legs, her chest centimeters away from pressing against mine. At that moment, I didn't want to think about anything . . . I didn't want to over-analyze the situation, I just wanted to obey her command and touch her.
I look down to her stomach and lift my hands up, placing them in the dips of her sides, my warm fingertips pressing against her cold skin. Sara unhook both of her fingers from my belt loops and brings her hands up to my face, cupping my jaw and gently pulling my face up. I stare into her eyes as hers search my face, a small weak smile starting to form on her lips.
"Look at me when you do it."
She says, slowly leaning down and pressing her forehead against mine. I obey and keep my eyes on her drooping ones as I trail my right hand down the path of her tight stomach and to the lining of her denim jeans. I bring my fingertips to the cold button and trace the chiseled letters in the metal; feeling her legs begin to shake at my sides.
"Please . . . don't tease me."
She whispers, her hot breath tickling the corners of my mouth. Without saying a word, I tug on the button and it breaks free. I lower my fingers down to her zipper and pull it down slowly, disobeying her command . . . and teasing her.
"You're not going to run away after this, are you?"
I ask, watching as her eyes flutter shut. Now I wanted to know . . . I wanted to make sure that this wasn't some experiment for her; just so she could see what it feels like.
"You're gonna wake up tomorrow morning, Tegan . . . with me right next to you; tangled up in your arms and legs."
As soon as her words finish, I close my eyes and bring my fingers to the elastic band of her underwear; my tips ready to feel her warmth. I lift up her band and glide my fingers down to her mound, feeling a small patch of trimmed curls beneath my skin. She lets out a small moan and I open my eyes . . . wanting to see her as she crumbles and falls for me.
"Watch me do it."
I whisper, gliding my fingers down to her smooth folds. I trace the tips of my fingers up and down her silky flesh and she opens her eyes, staring directly into mine with huge black pupils. As her eyes plead for me, I can't help but find that look to be strangely addicting. If I could, I would listen to her beg me for a release every second of the day.
I part her lips and graze my fingers up and down her slit, feeling her thick-hot liquid cover my two digits. The feeling alone is enough to make my knees shake with anticipation. I'm finally touching her . . .
"Oh please, Tegan."
She begs low, lightly grinding her hips against my fingers. She lets out a small whimper and I lean into her, pressing my lips against hers. She traces my bottom lip with her tongue and I part them, allowing her to take me this way, while I take her in another way. As our tongues collide in the most graceful battle, I bring my fingers down to the rim of her entrance, feeling her heat radiate against my whole palm. I push two of my slender bones into her and feel her teeth sink into my bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. She closes her eyes tight and throws her head back, letting me see her long stern neck. I lean down and bury my face into the crook of her collar, placing light kisses on her throbbing pulse; while my fingers begin to develop a steady pace.
"You're inside of me."
She whispers into my ear, the huskiness in her voice makes me moan and I sink my teeth down into her skin, biting down hard enough to leave a mark I want her to remember; if she were to leave. Her hips start to buck as her walls tremble around my fingers, sucking me back into her each time my tips stop at the rim.
"More. Deeper."
She whimpers. I do as she says and add another finger, pushing all three in; down to my knuckles. She gasps and buries her head into my neck, letting me feel her hot breath as I bring her closer and closer to the edge.
"Now, tell me you love me."
I bring my palm up to her clit and let it rub against her throbbing flesh. She wanted to hear the words from me . . . she wanted me to send her over the edge with my feelings. I lift my head up and look into her eyes, watching them struggle to stay open as her waves begin to crash.
"I love you, Sara."
Her eyes slam close and she tilts her head all the way back, her mouth forming the perfect O-shape as she cums. This sight, her face, beats the beauty of Waves Crashing Down in the Ocean, it beats the Orange and Pink Rays . . . it beats everything. She beats everything.
As her juices pour into the palm of my hands and her walls cut off the circulation in my fingers, I bring my free hand up and place it on the back of her neck, pulling her head back down so I could see her face. Her cheeks glowing a dark red, her parted lips panting for air.
"Perfection."
I mumble, closing my eyes. I would always fantasize about what our first time would be like, where it would happen and who would start it first. But none of them even compare to this. We made love at the place I run to, to forget about her. But I feel like I won't be visiting this place anymore for that reason . . . I think the memory I just made with Sara is what's going to bring me back to this place in the future. For once . . . I can say bye to the Faithful Ocean.
"Now take me back to your bed . . . and wrap me up in you."
