My lips part slowly as I begin to recite the lines that I have been practicing for the entirety of the morning, and I can't seem to contain my excitement. Earlier this morning, Grace had run up to me with a look of utter bewilderment on her pretty, little face. After a few moments of prodding she quickly told me that Liv and Matty did not show up for practice this morning, and if she couldn't find someone to fill in for them the repercussions would be "tragic". Although I had longed for the part of Olivia from the moment I heard Grace was directing a production of Twelfth Night – from the moment I heard a certain someone was playing Viola – I decided to help her simply because she was my friend, one of my best friends. So, after I had agreed, and she thanked me continuously, I took the script from her and began reading over my part. And, now, here I am, standing in the middle of this small room reciting lines to the audience – our small group of friends – and my co-star. Franky Fitzgerald.

Over the past couple of months I have grown very close to the boyish red-head; there is something about her that I instantly noticed. Something that instantly intrigued me, but instead of accepting her from the start, I had to be the stereotypical bitch that I was known as, and break her. Until that moment I had never felt badly about ruining someone's reputation, until I ruined Franky's, and then it seemed as though everything changed. I felt guilt, and although it was foreign, uncomfortable and painful, I had to acknowledge it. Now, several months later, we're quite good friends. We even have fun together occasionally, but there always seems to be something lurking beneath the surface. Even now, as I stand before her belting out my lines, I can't help but feel a strange sensation – a cross between butterflies and nausea – in the pit of my stomach. I feel the same 'pang' every time I'm around her, and I cannot seem to understand what it means…

Shaking my head, I try to concentrate on the words I'm saying, but the only thing that my brain seems to process is Franky. I watch her closely as she eyes me slowly, listening patiently as she waits for her turn to speak, and I can feel the strange feeling spike within my body once more. What is going on with me? Blinking my eyes rapidly, I feel relief as I realize I am nearing the end of my lines, and I start to rush them in an over enthusiastic tone. Franky looks at me strangely as my voice raises, but I ignore it, and let my eyes fall away from her's. Those large, dark eyes of her's are far too distracting.

"…but rather reason thus, then reason fetter. Love sought is good, but given unsought is better!"

After finishing my speech, I smile brightly, although I'm aware I didn't do the greatest job of reciting Shakespeare, I try and convince the other's of my confidence. They either buy the fake happiness on my face, or they are just too bored with my unusual performance. Either way, I'm happy simply because I know that no one will bother me with the same usual questions: "what's wrong?", "why were you acting like that", and so on. But, ignoring the rest of the group, I shift my gaze to Grace momentarily, reading her face to see what she thinks. By the expression poised across her flawless countenance, she looks disappointed, and I can't blame her. Not only can I not act as well as, Liv, – although the slag doesn't deserve to be better than me at anything after what she has done – but there is something unexplainable going on inside my head that makes every task seemed impossible. I try and apologize with my eyes as I wait for Franky to start her lines – she has a beautiful voice and I love the way she recites her lines, it makes me figuratively melt…Wait, what?

"By innocence I swear and by…" and there is that wondrous voice, but before Franky can finish her lines, – to my disappointment – Grace unexpectedly interrupts excitedly.

"Hold on!" She calls as she jumps off her spot on the table and skips over to us. "I've had an idea!"

Franky and I gaze at each other quizzically as Grace reaches us, a luminously contagious smile adorning her face. Turning to her in unison, Franky and I look at her curiously, unsure of what her idea is and what it might entail. These are little things that no one knows about Grace; when she gets an idea it can literally be anything. Her dark eyes shine brightly as they flicker between the two of us and it seems as though she may burst at any moment with sheer excitement. Giving her one of my 'spit-it-out-already-Gracie' looks, she smiles once more as she turns her attention fully to me – oh, this could be bad – and opens her mouth...

"Kiss her." She says simply, her eyes widening at her 'brilliant' idea.

"Um…" My mind is at a loss for words, I was not expecting her to say anything related to her wanting me to kiss Franky, and I can feel my nerve-endings catch fire as the familiar 'pang' grows worse. "…there's nothing about kissing in the sc-script…"

"You're meant to interpret, Shakespeare." Grace says matter-of-factly, and my blue eyes widen in desperation, unsure if I can go through with it or not. "Try it."

"Um, but, uh…" I shoot daggers at Grace's back as she walks away – happy – and I feel as though I can't function; my lines are jumbled in my head, stumbling out of my mouth clumsily, "but, ah, rather reason thus, then reason fetter. Love sought is good, but given unsought is better…"

As the last word falls from my lips, I stare into Franky's eyes desperately, and her's meet mine. They are wide and dark, and they seem to sparkle with nervousness; perhaps I am not the only one freaking out about this imminent kiss? And as I begin to lean in, licking my lips, my heart beings to beat erratically and my palms grow clammy. And I can't help to ask myself why I'm so on edge, so nervous; it's not like we're kissing for the hell of it, we're kissing for the play, because Grace – our friend – insisted on it. It isn't like I am going to enjoy it…am I?

I cannot believe Grace is condoning this:

Franky and I kissing.

Me kissing Franky.

Our lips…touching.

Oh, God, I can't breathe!

Before I close my eyes, I gaze at Franky as I move in closer, and I see her lean forward expectantly, pressing against me gently. I can feel her warm breath against my skin and I shudder as my lids begin to grow heavy. Finally, I let my eyes flutter shut, and our lips brush lightly at first and I can feel my head spin . As the kiss deepens, and our mouths open slowly, I can feel my knees buckle, and I grasp onto Franky's neck desperately, seemingly pulling her in closer. Her lips are irresistibly soft against mine, and I have to fight myself to suppress the moan that so, terribly, wants to be released. Although I try to lie to myself, this kiss is unlike any other I have ever experienced before, it sends my blood boiling through my veins and sates the 'pang' within my stomach. I don't want it to, but it feels right, as if our lips are meant to be conjoined, as if kissing Franky is the most natural thing that could occur to me, and I can't stop my body from reacting to her touch.

I can taste her on my tongue and I nearly swoon, I wonder if she is thinking and feeling the same way I am…Regardless, the sensations running through my body feel so exquisite and beautiful that I can't imagine either of us believing it is wrong. It feels as if an eternity has passed, with our mouths dancing upon each other's, but it's been mere seconds, and I know that very soon it will end; the closeness, the satisfaction…And before I can think anymore about it, our lips slowly break contact but not until they've lingered a little longer. As Franky and I both pull away from each other we look into each other's eyes, both finding something in our gazes that neither of us knew we were searching for. Both of us are breathing heavy, and her pale face is flushed a deep crimson, her lips parted; she's absolutely stunning. I cannot seem to take my eyes off of her – as if I am finally seeing how beautiful she is – and my eyes caress the plains of her face lavishly.

While my eyes search her face, my body longs to press against her once more, and even if I wanted to, our moment is rudely interrupted by an impatient Grace…

"Fine." She states disappointedly, rolling her dark eyes.

Fine? I ask myself indignantly. That kiss, those feelings…were real. How could Grace not find it believable enough for her play? Regardless, I know what I felt, and it seems to change everything. Everything between Franky and I will be different now, far different. When – before – all I wanted was to spend more time to her…now, all I want to do is to be pressed up against her once more, with her mouth devouring mine. Very different indeed…These thoughts of mine seem completely illogical to my conscious, but I can't stop what I'm currently thinking or feeling. As if the moment Franky's lips touched mine, my entire world was changed. As if I found something I wasn't looking for, but desperately needed…Hah! Perhaps Shakespeare was right; when one finds love it can be good, but love unsought is better!

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I wrote this one-shot the first time I watched the seventh episode, and being I complete 'Minky' shipper I knew I had to write a story about it. I've had it in my documents for a long time, and finally got around to publishing it. I hope you all really enjoy it. Oh, and before I forget, please don't forget to review!