Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

She cannot count the number of times she has done this, staring at herself in the mirror. As if by sheer force of will, she can de-frizz her hair, and straighten her teeth, and become beautiful. Only during these brief moments of vulnerability, just before she prepares to cross the line, does she allow herself to indulge in her insecurities; a crack in a time-hardened shell of supposed strength, confidence and independence.

And then the charmed necklace she wears grows warm, and she knows he is coming. The insecurities, the guilt, everything melts away, and all she can think about is him. She wonders why he keeps coming to her, and why she keeps taking him in. She knows its wrong, and that is shouldn't be this way, and she knows better. But for once she doesn't care about getting it right. Wrong can be good. So very, sinfully, painfully good.

They're in his bed now, and he's kissing her, and she moans, almost with relief at being able to release the pent-up need building inside her. She refuses to think of this as making love; it's only sex. She keeps telling herself that, but then they lock eyes, both refusing to look away, and for a brief second, he belongs to her and she to him. For a brief second she feels wanted, desired, loved…..

Which is more than she can handle, and she looks away. He can never belong to her; he'll be married soon, and though she may be so wanton with her body, she'll be damned if she does the same to her heart…..

And then she cries out, the pleasure momentarily filling the emptiness she feels. She keeps her eyes closed, feeling him against her, around her, within her. Then he's gone, with a peck and a grin, into the shower. And she gets dressed, asking herself why she does this to herself, why she can't stop. The emptiness is back, deeper than before.

She doesn't love him. She hasn't allowed herself to. But she wishes she could.

AN: Thanks for reading and please review!! Any ideas of who you might think He is?