Catherine

God, the things this woman can do with her tongue... I lie, panting, breathing out the aftermath of her treatment. My pulse is racing, my body limp. Slowly I open my eyes to find her face hovering just inches above mine. Out of reflex I pull her down for a kiss.

The taste of her combined with the flavour of my very own essence has me hot again in an instant. The collision of lips and tongues is almost as powerful as the explosion that erupted inside of me only seconds ago, making me wish for this moment to never go away.

I've never had a lover who made me feel so alive, who cared enough to...Shit.

I pull back, gasping. Daring to open my eyes I see the very expression I was hoping not to find. It's what I expected yet it's what I dreaded to see- It't the proof I didn't need, that very care, the warmth, the gentleness only a live time partner should show. It's love. Sara is falling in love with me. And in all honesty I've been aware of that before tonight. I took advantage of her, not intetionally, no, but I did. Granted, she almost threw herself at me, took the first step, offered herself. With the way she kissed me she was doing her best to make it impossible for me to resist. However, I'm stuck here now, once again, in a situation I don't know how to handle.

"Cath, is something wrong?" her voice rings through my overladen mind.

Yes. A lot is wrong. I promised not to treat you like you were just a fling. I promised to be your friend. And now I've failed you once again.

I sigh. Clearing my throat and reaching for the covers I pull them up over my chest. She eyes me sceptically, concerned, most of all confused.

"I'm sorry." That's all I can come up with. Alcohol and orgasms have never been the best foundation for a clear state of mind.

"What for?" she asks, looking hurt and still confused.

"I...this," I motion between us, unsure of how to say this without crushing her heart."...this shouldn't have happened." I force out quickly. She doesn't move, doesn't talk.

"I'm sorry" I repeat. I have absolutely no idea how to convey this to her. Hence we sit, awkwardly, silently regarding each other.

When I can't take the silence anymore I reach out to her face, pull her to me so she is forced to make eye contact.

"Sara." She swallows stiffly. "Listen. What happened here is wrong, for so many reasons. I...I know how you feel. And I'm sorry for being so selfish and not stopping you when I should have. I souldn't have flirted with you, shouldn't have sent you these signals. We decided to be friends and now we thoroughly messed that up again."

She is uncharacteristically quiet, her expression unreadable. It worries me that she neither argues nor adds to my words.

"Sara?" I think I've royally fucked this up now. She pulls away, moves to the side of the bed. I watch as she picks up her pants and pulls them on.

"Sara, wait." I get up. Realizing I'm completely naked my uneasiness increases. By the time I've pulled a t-shirt over my head I hear the front door slam.

Shit.

I hurry after her and open the door. All I can make out in the semidarkness is her retreating back. "Sara!" I call out after her, to no avail. Not that I was expecting her to halt or to turn.

Clad in nothing more than the aforementiond shirt I decide not to run after her. Instead I go back inside and try to call on her cell. Chances are slim that she's going to answer and I really don't know what to say but I'm trying nevertheless.

It rings three times before I hear a different ringing in the background. Turning into the direction the sound is coming from I spot her purse, complete with her phone, on my coffee table. So much for calling.

I sink down on the sofa, staring at the untouched glasses still filled with wine. Suddenly a thought hits me: If she doesn't have her purse with her she might also be missing her keys. A quick check into its contents confirms my assumption. The keys are here with the rest of her things.

Sighing deeply I walk back into the bedroom, grab some clothes and make my way out to follow Sara. I know I'm not in the proper contition to drive but right now I don't care. I can't have her stand alone outside her apartment in the middle of the night, slighly drunk and upset at that.

A rough five minutes into my drive I spot a lone figure trotting down the sidewalk, head hung low, step tired and sluggish. I slow the vehicle until I'm in tune with her speed. Through the rolled down window I start talking to her.

"Sara, hold on a second." No reaction.

"Come on Sara, please." Nothing.

"Can't we just talk about this?" Oh yeah, that's trite. And futile.

"You forgot your keys." At least that's making her look up. She holds out her hand. I sigh. She can be so frustrating, I wonder why I even bother.

"Hey, let me at least drive you home while I'm already here." For a few second's she is unresponsive before finally she stands.

The air is heavy when she buckles in beside me.

"Drive" is the only word she sais, then she's silent until we arrive at her place.

She's about to reach for the door when I lock it. It's a dangerous decision but I don't want her to go in there and never speak with me again.

"We should talk." Looks like the not speaking works inside here just as well.

"Sara, look at me" I plead, feeling silly and not myself.

"Just let me get out, ok?" Her face is directed at me, her gaze is far off though.

I reach my hand out to lightly touch her arm and she immidiately flinches in response.

"I'm sorry" I try one last time. Then I open the doors, it's no use to keep her locked in here, if she doesn't want to converse nothing in the world can make her.

The whole vehicle vibrates at the impact of the door slamming shut. I watch her disappear into the building and close my eyes.

"Shit" I mutter to the empty car.