The One I Cling to.

All red curls and wide smiles, she's led on her stomach on his bed, in nothing but her underwear. Rolling a curl around her finger, she bites her lip and looks up with wide brown eyes to her cousin.

It hurts to look at her because he knows just how bloody wrong it is to even be in this situation. But not looking at her makes an ache appear and so he can't help it. He can't help the things he wants to do to his sixteen-year-old cousin. The bad, sinful things he has done with only his girlfriend before. Though only if you don't include the last three nights spent in his flat alone with Rose. Naked with Rose.

She's on her summer break, spending a week with him because she knew what she wanted. What she still wants.

Even as their lips are attached he murmurs to her how wrong it is. She smiles against his lips.

"I know," she whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Flesh against flesh. Moving in sync with each other, eyes connected the whole time. His hands are tangled in her curls, revelling in the softness. He kisses her neck. He kisses her chest and her stomach and her thighs and her legs and her feet.

He brings her the happiness she can't feel with anyone else. It's a need to be with - months spent pining over his simple touches - a need to feel him. It's borderline obsession - an obssesion she can't help but succumb to. She doesn't really care, though. Their strange, warped non-relationship-relationship is wrong. It's cold winters and soggy dinners and arguments with their parents - to him.

To her it's warm Summers and sweets and every Christmas and Birthday combined.

It's dirty and disgusting; it's a beautiful sin.

Judas is the demon I cling onto - Lady GaGa Judas.