Her trademark color, red, caught my eye as I walked away from the grocery store, angered that I had reacted so foolishly. Quickly, I averted my eyes. I could not keep my attention on her. I had to keep moving. Just keep moving. I walked past her briskly, trying to keep my pride and dignity intact. I refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing how wrong I was and more importantly, how much trouble I was having resisting her.

I could hear and feel the figure following behind me. I assumed it was Cristina, but I couldn't look back. Looking back would show weakness, it would show that I noticed she was there, how acutely aware I was of her. I tried to side-glance back inconspicuously. Low and behold it was indeed Cristina. "Stop following me," I commanded, sounding much more assertive than I felt on the inside. She continued following even against my wishes. I stopped dead in my tracks. If she didn't stop following me, I don't know how much longer I could hold against her intoxicating smell before I crashed my lips against hers.

I apologized, refusing to turn around and look at her, knowing that would be my downfall. "I didn't mean to offend you at the grocery store. Are you satisfied?" Now please go away! Go away before I can't tell you to anymore. I looked back to see her reaction. She shook her head. "No?" I questioned. Fine, she doesn't want to accept my apology, than I will continue walking. I will not let her affect me. After about five steps it became too much. She continued to follow me. I couldn't take it anymore!

"Well, that's enough!" I turned around angrily. "Why are you following me? What do you want?" I already knew the answers to the questions but I hoped that against all odds she'd respond with something—anything—else.

"I want the same thing you do," she responded calmly. My eyes nervously flicked around, never quite meeting hers. How was I to respond? I… we don't want the same things. I just want her to leave… don't I? My brain denied what I want and I happily followed its lead.

"I don't want anything," I respond hastily. We both share a fervent gaze that makes me doubt my words all the more. "Nothing," I reiterated.

A small smile appeared on her lips. It was obvious I was lying, but I refuse to give in. I will not—cannot—be in love with a woman, much less her. With her reputation as a high-end whore who used to sleep around with my father, she is quite possibly the worst person I could ever fall in love with. "Are you sure?" We both know that my words are just words, no actual truth behind them. I did not respond, choosing to remain silent. I stand there, stoic, unmoving, afraid that if I was to say anything it would be to entice her closer towards me.

I watched as she undid the first button on her dress, unable to turn away. "What are you doing?" I asked helplessly. Fight it! Fight it! My head told me. I cannot be looking at her like this. She is a girl. I cannot feel these feelings for someone that is the same gender as me, but yet I find myself unable to deny my heart—and my libido—what it so desperately craves. Her. I want to turn away, but I can't.

"Can't you see," she replied. It was so simple and light. It was one of the things that attracted me to her. My breath hitched as her soft, supple skin was revealed once again to my longing eyes. I looked up at her, a remarkable smile tracing those plump, red lips that had tasted so sweet against mine the day before. She gave me a look of… Dare I call it love? I could barely hold her impenetrable gaze, the sweet skin of her breasts calling out to me.

Suddenly I felt her hand reach for mine. The sparks that came every time our skin brushed against each other ignited once again. My brain was useless against my heart. I couldn't stop myself, even though I wanted to. Her hand placed mine against the newly revealed skin. It was even softer than I could ever have imagined. That day when I had seen Cristina washing herself, I had fantasized about that later on. That fantasy could not ever hold a candle to reality, and barely anything had even happened yet. My heart raced a mile per minute, I was so scared that maybe she could hear mine beating faster, just like hers was. My gaze traveled back up to her eyes as she spoke, "Do you feel the heartbeats?" Yes. Their gentle thumps beating quickly against my hand, they were perhaps the most beautiful music I had ever heard. "They're for you."

I wanted nothing more than to tell her my heart did the same for her. That she had captured it. I was nothing without her love anymore. Then, reality came back to me and our secret little world was shattered into a thousand pieces of glass that could never be put back together. My hand flew away from her chest in shock that I had done such a thing, such a terrible sin as to touch her in such a sexual way. I was unable to look at her chest anymore, afraid that if I did I might loose myself again. I stared at her, wondering how she could look so much like an angel, but really be the devil in disguise. She looked at me with a broken heart. I could see it in her eyes. It hurt to look at her so in pain. I just wanted to take her in my arms and brush her worries away with the feeling of my lips against hers. However, my mind had composed itself and against my heart's will it had spoken, "Stay away from me." It had taken every last bit of strength I had in me to walk away from her, my eyes filling with tears I knew I could never shed.