The truth was staring us in the face and all we could do was blink and try not to see it popping it's little head up every now and then.
He would be wrapped around her (her who I glare at until I see the injustice of my jealously that seems to seep from my pores) and I could feel his eyes locked on the back my head as if he was trying to burn a hole in me (and maybe he really could).
You can tell the way his eyes wash over her that he's the model boy-friend, always worrying about his girl and about his sister, which at the moment I feel isn't enough.
"We can dance around this for three more months or finally face it head on. Micheal, I love you. It's always going to be you, its written in our blood, our past lives, and you know it."
"I know."
It's the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless, wanting more and feeling oh-so bad all in one but around the edges it seems like a puzzle piece is finally connecting and with that it's complete.
