AN: A flashback from Mary and Francis' past.

Spring 2008

I fumbled with the doorknob, trying to turn it, which turned to be a very difficult task with my hands slippery from the rain, the alcohol buzz and the lips that were pressed at my neck. I finally managed to open the door and we stumbled inside, giggling and kissing.

"Do you think anyone noticed that we left?" I ask Francis, as he peppers kisses on my cheek. His lips and my skin are wet which enhances the sensation and I shiver though I'm far from cold. He lifts his head to look at me. His hair looks dark blond and his eyes look a darker shade too, though I doubt that is because of the rain.

"I think everyone was too busy figuring out their own escape, to look our way twice."

I smiled at that and he captured my mouth again, slowly, leisurely, but with tremendous intensity. My thoughts were clouded and his kisses made me feel even more drunk than I already was. I don't know how long we stayed there. It felt too good to move. Finally I lifted my head and spoke in a whisper.

"Do .. do you want to go upstairs?"

My parents were away for the weekend, leaving me alone in the house. That is why after prom, we headed straight here, seizing the opportunity to be alone.

Francis looked at me, his thumbs caressing my cheekbones. Every time he kissed me, he would cup my face in his hands. It was impossible to imagine being kissed, without the feel of his hand on my cheek.

"Ok."

I took his hand and led him towards the stairs. It was ridiculous, my anxiety, if you considered how many times Francis had walked these steps, been in my room, slept in my bed… We knew each other our whole lives. We were best friends. And yet, things had changed since we were children.

Our relationship had changed dramatically and yet somehow remained just as strong. We were friends until we turned fourteen. That's when I was asked on a date for the first time by a boy in our school, Tomas. To my surprise, when I relayed this exciting news to Francis, he didn't like the idea one bit. He grumbled that he was older than me (by a year) and that he didn't trust him. I brushed it off, but the whole week before my date he barely spoke to me. I was frustrated by his behavior but I had my date to worry about.

As it turned out, the date was a disaster. Tomas acted like a jerk the whole time, trying to feel me up at the movies and l left him halfway through our date, with a bright red mark on his cheek.

I was so exhausted when I finally arrived home, I almost missed Francis sitting on my front steps, his head bent over.

"Francis?" he saw me and stood up, his face tense as if he was in pain.

"Are you ok?" he said nothing, just kept looking at me.

"Talk to me."I pleaded.

He came to me then, grabbed my face in his hands and crushed his mouth to mine. I stood still, every cell in my body frozen with shock. It felt like an electric charge went all through me. He had kissed me so many times before, on the cheek, and it never felt like this. There was a tingle of warmth there too, but not the flashing heat that was coursing through me now. Of course it wouldn't be. This wasn't how you kissed your best friend. The pressure of his lips didn't change, as if he didn't quite know what he was doing, but it felt amazing just the same. I never wanted him to stop…

He slowly lifted his head and looked at me. That pained expression was still on his face.

"I know I'm probably too late, but you had to know… you had to know-"

I cut him off then, my lips finding his once more. Oh yes, that glorious rush came back. He froze for a moment, then responded eagerly and I felt something else beside the electricity. Joy. Pure, indescribable joy. I hadn't lost my best friend after all…

Now as we enter my room I let myself remember that moment and every moment before and after that. This shouldn't be terrifying, it's what I want most in the world. Francis. It's hard to keep our balance as we are still slightly drunk and as we make our way to the bed, I trip and we fall on the mattress loudly, while laughing hysterically. My anxiety is manifesting itself in another form it seems, because I can't stop giggling.

We take off our shoes and sweaters and get under the covers. He moves a wet lock of hair stuck on my forehead and kisses my nose. My eyes droop a little and I let out a yawn. He starts laughing again and I join him.

"Boring you, am I miss Stuart?"

"I'm kinda tired" I say and it's true. I had spent all last night sleeplessly imagining this very moment and now all I want to do is crawl closer to him and sleep.

"Me too." He admits sheepishly and we giggle again. He wraps his arms around me and I close my eyes, giving in to my exhaustion.

A few hours later I wake up. There is a delicious warmth all through my body. The rain hasn't stopped, I realize. The wind furiously hits the windows and the sound is loud and numbing. There is something poking me in the back and I smile into my pillow. That "something" was the reason why Francis stopped coming over for sleepovers a few years ago. He wouldn't look me in the eye for weeks afterwards and I was just as confused. Strangely enough, this time it gave me clarity. I wiggled a bit closer and I heard Francis groan, his hips pushing forward. I turned just in time to see his eyes flying open in shock and his face turning beet red. I turned around and crushed his mouth with mine. It seemed that his shyness made me bolder.

Francis quickly recovered and kissed me with just as much fervor, careful to keep his hips away from mine. Smiling against his mouth, my hand went from his chest to palm the hardness. He winced, but as if unable to help himself, pressed himself against my palm. I continued to rub him curiously until he stopped my hand.

"I.. I can't handle more."

I smiled mischievously and captured his lips again, feeling his teeth bite into my lower one as they always did. He carefully pushed me on my back and hovered above me. after lifting his head, a question in his eyes, I grabbed the hem of my dress and took it off, leaving me in just my underwear and bra, a matching set I had bought with Kenna for this occasion.

Francis' pupils dilated until his eyes were nearly black as he took in my apparel and he kissed me hard while his hands traced my body slowly. I moaned into his mouth and grabbed his shirt and pulled it off him, pausing briefly before I reclaimed his lips and my hands did their own exploring. I felt a steady burn in the pit of my belly which was becoming more and more uncomfortable by the minute. I just knew I needed more of his lips, his touch, just more. And while my hormones had gone berserk, somewhere in me happiness bloomed, at being with him like this, my first time more than I imagined it to be.

Francis' lips traveled lower to my neck and chest while I was only capable of small gasps and whimpers. His hand went behind my back, and after I nodded my consent, he unclasped the bra and took it of me. If there was any blue in his irises before, it was gone now as his hand came up and cupped one breast. I jumped up and he stopped and removed his hand, thoroughly scared. I smiled and put his hand back there, a silent permission, while I closed my eyes at his gentle touches. Then the feel of his mouth made me pry them open once more. His lips had circled the other nub and were sucking gently, his tongue flicking periodically, as I bit my lip and let out delicate whimpers. He lifted his head after a while and kissed me deeply while his hands went to my panties. I lifted my hips and he took them off, leaving me naked and grateful for the fact that we were under covers. Feeling at a disadvantage, I hooked my thumbs in his boxers and pushed them down, until we were both naked, hissing at the full skin contact.

I let out a yelp when I felt his fingers down there and he immediately stopped.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have…"

"No. Don't stop."

Francis looked at me.

"You were really wet." He blurted out and we both laughed at our awkwardness. When his hips touched mine and I felt him press up against me, we both hissed at the feeling. He started to move his hips as we gasped in each others mouths. The previous burn had transformed into an ache and I knew exactly what I wanted.

"Go on." I whispered and Francis froze above me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I felt him press up in me and the intrusion that followed.

"Slower!" I gasped as I felt stretched beyond belief. He withdrew and entered once more a little further and kept it up until he stopped completely and looked at me.

I nodded and he pushed through, all the way in as I let out a loud yelp.

"Are you ok?" he asks.

"No!" I respond tersely. "It hurts like a son of a bitch!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Stop apologizing!"I bite back.

Francis' expression is so strained by fear and pleasure it's hilarious. But the burn between my legs sours my humorous side. I try to relax and get as comfortable as I can.

"Okay, try to move."

With a sigh of relief, Francis starts pulling back and pushing forward, while I try to not hiss in pain with every thrust.

"You feel so good!" he sighs in my neck and I smile at his reverence. It starts to get easier and I start moving with him, my eyes rolling upward at the intensity. It feels incredible. Even the pain is pleasurable.

After a while, our mouths fused again and everything seemed to become frenzied. His lips, my lips, his hands and mine, our bodies, the sounds we make, all reaching toward something incredible. My hand reaches downward and I rub my nub, the feeling so much more satisfying with him buried deep inside me, and I let go with a loud moan, falling into the most intense climax of my life so far. Francis starts to thrust harder, gasping into my mouth.

"So good, so, so good!"

I feel the rush of his own climax inside me and he collapses on top of me, breathing heavily, drenched in sweat.

I don't attempt to move him, enjoying the peace this moments emits, his weight on me.

"I love you." He whispers in my ear.

"I love you too." I say and my hands trace his back absent mindedly.

He lifts his head and kisses me gingerly, drowsily as if time had slowed and every movement stroke heavy and echoed throughout the room. He withdrew and turned us on our sides, carefully pulling the covers over my bare shoulder.

His lips keep brushing my face and at that moment, it feels as if nothing could ever breach this moment. We will remain here, and our shadows will go on without us, back to earth and reality.

"Are you cold?" I ask, realizing that he was shaking.

He shook his head and wrapped his arms around me, my skin making full contact with his.

"I wish time would stop right now. "

He was as in tune with my thoughts as always. I buried my head in his chest and wished something else. I wished that if time had to pass, this moment to be the first of many, to shape my life the way this boy had shaped my dreams.