popsycle girl - It's just as bittersweet for me to post. On one hand, I love to see everybody's reactions, but on the other, I kind of don't want this to end. Thanks for your lovely review, as always. It's much appreciated :).

notintolabel29 - You're sweet :P. Thank you, I'm really glad you like it.

lexj - Thank you. I hope I answer everything in this update, if not, feel free to ask me anything I've been unclear on.

NotxxWhatxxItxxSeems - No, don't cry! What's better than a ghetto sign? Not many things, my friend. Besides a migraine all week, Cambridge was awesome. One of the things I love about being there is the accent. It's really, really cute. You should totally visit! Make sure to take your camera with you, not to look like a tourist, but because it generally is a really cool place with tons of cool people. And you'll almost feel at home, there's two Starbucks' :P. It's kind of a rare thing in England. At least for me. I'm not so much city girl. I'm all safe in the country. I will, I will! As soon as this is done (couple more chapters), I'll post a short (nine or ten chapters) story I wrote a few months ago. It's completely different from this, but a lot of fun to write. Then I'll decide what else to post :P. And thank you, you're a peach. It's good to be back, I did miss the regular interraction with you guys.

xxMaNdYxx - Thanks :]

Goober37 - Aw, sorry!

MissMaclay - Yup, it was the road. I'm glad you liked that :). And I'm glad you like Erin! I hope you had drag Anthony Head dreams the other night :P. I confess to thinking about it before I went to sleep. *hangs head in shame* But! It was partly your fault, if not TOTALLY. I mean, you sent me the link and all ;).

dangerflowers - Thank you.

Movies7Too - At that point, no. Later on in the story? Yes. Glad you liked the update :). I really don't want to spoil it. This will be finished in three chapters. Including this one.

XSamXStutterzX - Sorry for not being clear, it just meant that she doesn't feel pain when Erin is close to her, unlike Ashley. Spencer realised it's just a curse between her and Ashley. Aw, thank you very much :D.

SpashLuva - Thank you, I thought that scene was very much needed. It's lots of reasons. Because Erin and Spencer were never in love, because they knew and loved each other deeply as friends, and if you believe in this, because they aren't soulmates like Ashley and Spencer. Ashley and Spencer's curse of not being able to touch without pain is because they didn't know each other before Spencer died and because Spencer had nobody she was in love with when she died, she should have moved on. But she didn't. She couldn't because she needed Ashley and Ashley needed her. Does all of that make sense? I hope so. Aw, did it really? Was there a specific reason why? My time away was awesome, thanks. Hectic and stressful, but it still good. :)

AbsoluteGarbage - Then I'm glad to deliver :).

pam - Thank you. Yes it is. Read the response above one. I hope it answers your question :)

c-diddy - Haha, the remix? Sounds sweet. Glad you like this version, too :D. Yeah, I know. I think it comes back to the "People do denial well" line. It was intended to be a sort of come-back to that line, anyway. She didn't want to notice it.

DeadWitchReading - Thanks. Erin actually won't be an obstacle as such. It's Ashley for Spencer and Spencer for Ashley. I never like any other "love interest" in my fics, to be honest. I don't not enjoy reading it, I just usually find different obstacles for my characters to overcome. Outside drama I tend to stay away from. Thaaank you :D. Haha, well...I can promise the next chapter isn't too bad. The one after? I can't promise anything. Oh, sure I can! It's right underneath flying ;).

Coachkimm - Thanks :). I don't think so. Most of Erin's work has been done. She's had all her mentions through Spencer and her scene with them both. I think there'll be one more scene with Spencer and Erin and that'll be it, 'cause the story is done in a couple of chapters anyway.

taymm15 - Aw, sorry about that. Thank you for the compliment, though ;).

Pendulum666 - Exactly what I was going for. Thank you very much.

s0nFan16 - I know. It's like her version of heaven and hell rolled into one. Read and you'll find out soon ;).

Ashley fell asleep holding me and not long after I had to carefully remove her arms away from me and get out of bed, unable to stand the physical side effects any longer. Her parents had left for work fifteen minutes prior and I decided to walk into their room. I saw how different it looked and how the only giveaway that suggested somebody slept in there was the unmade bed.

My parents didn't keep the place untidy, but it was a bedroom that if a person was to walk inside it would actually feel like a bedroom instead of a showroom. Mr Davies doesn't keep loose change on his bedside table like my father used to and Mrs Davies doesn't keep a bottle of water on her bedside table in case she gets thirsty in the night like my mother used to.

The room has long lost the familiar scent that it always had, and the stain my mother made on the carpet when she dropped her mascara brush on the floor has long been removed. My eyes close and I can see myself at no more than eight years old, standing in their doorway early in the morning and watching them sleep. The memory is bittersweet.

I walk into Glen's old bedroom which is still used for storage and I block out all the boxes, only seeing how his room used to be, how I wish it could have stayed for a little longer. I think of how it should have been turned into a sewing room or something of the sort, when he had gone away to college. My fingers trace over the wall just underneath the windowsill and I feel, as much as see, the slight dip to the wallpaper.

Glen had been teasing me about Jason, who was a handsome boy that used to live in the next street, he wouldn't stop asking me out but I was less than interested. He was a nice person, but not the person for me. I told Glen to shut up or I'd pull some of his wallpaper off. He didn't believe me. I only pulled a small piece off, a piece that was right underneath the window sill and my mother never did find out.

It hurts me. My eyes feel the familiar burn of tears fast-approaching and my throat feels the constrictive pressure that threatens to choke me.

"Hey."

And I blink them back. Suddenly, I'm no longer weak with pain. I turn around to face the voice and see Ashley standing in the doorway, looking sleepy.

"Go back to bed, Ashley," I tell her, sighing.

She ignores my words and her expression quickly turns to concern. "Are you okay?"

No, I'm still really not okay I think to myself. "Go back to bed, you slept two hours."

"I asked if you were okay, Spence," she repeats carefully.

I turn back around and run the pads of my fingers over the patch of white where the wallpaper once lay. "I don't want to talk," I reply quietly, carefully.

"It's just me," she points out unnecessarily.

That's the problem. I can't talk to her about this. I don't know how she would take it. I'm still not sure how I'm taking it. I don't think it's sunken in properly yet and I wonder if it's going to be one of those things that is somehow pushed to the back of your mind, only to resurface some time later and make you stop exactly what you're doing, not able to do anything but think, perhaps dwell on it.

My fingers come away from the wall and brush against something underneath the windowsill. I kneel down to look at it and it's one half of a basketball sticker Glen must have failed to peel off. For once, it doesn't comfort me. I just feel the devastating ache of the muscle inside my chest upon seeing more reminders of my family. My dead family.

I restand and face Ashley. "Why the hell didn't your parents clean the house properly?"

"What?" she asks, looking bewildered at my tone.

"No, I mean it, why didn't they clean the house? Are they allergic to chores or something? What kind of person moves into a pre-owned house and doesn't clean every single room?" I ask angrily.

Ashley looks confused at my anger. "Calm down. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong, is that I'm sick of this! I don't want to keep being reminded anymore. Clean the damn room," I spit out.

She looks around. "There's nothing wrong with this room."

"Oh, no?" I ask her with an inappropriate attitude.

Her face hardens. "What is wrong with you?"

"I think at this point, it would be easier to ask what's right with me," I admit.

Ashley begins to move toward me. "Spence, just -"

I put my hand up to halt her movements. "No, don't," I say, not wanting her near me right now. I need to be alone.

"Don't what?" she questions.

"Don't come near me," I clarify.

Ashley's demeanour changes. She's trying to figure me out. "Look, I can't help unless you tell me -"

I rudely interrupt her. "Then don't. Don't even try. I don't want you to. I didn't ask you to. You can't fix everything." She looks as though she doesn't know what to say, so I carry on, "You're not going to say anything? You're going to be 'quiet Ashley'." I nod my head to my words and keep my eyes set on hers. "Well, why don't you go and be quiet Ashley back in your room?"

Ashley frowns, clearly angry with me now. "What the hell is wrong with you? What's with the attitude?"

I set my jaw and stare at her. I don't say a word.

"I know you don't mean it," she starts.

"I don't?" I dare her to challenge me.

"No," she stresses, sounding angrier with each sentence. "You don't."

I wave a hand toward the door behind her, not caring how terrible I'm acting. "Get out."

A disbelieving sound leaves her lips. "Get out of a room in my own house?"

I nod my confirmation, my angry eyes never straying from hers.

"Why don't you get out, huh?" she asks me challengingly. "I mean, you said it yourself, this is my house."

I'm in no mood for her attitude, however appropriate it may be. "Get the hell away from me, Ashley."

The door slams shut behind her and I sit down on the floor, leaning against the wall. My eyes close in frustration and my throat hurts with emotion. At this point, I really don't know what to do anymore.

Whenever I used to act like a bitch in the past, it was easy for me to apologise and explain why I reacted how I did and why I said the words I said, but I can't do that today. I can't tell Ashley the real reason for my earlier outburst. I haven't seen her for nearly four hours and she isn't in the house. I'm starting to worry.

That's a lie. I started to worry after ten minutes. I tried calling her phone but it went to voicemail. She's going to get an earful when she does eventually show herself again, that much I can tell you. I'm worried sick.

I get tired of waiting as soon as another five minutes pass and I leave the house through the back door. Walking through the streets, I see babies in strollers and think of all the times I've picked up a dropped toy or a fallen shoe; none of those times where I passed the item back to the baby hurt. Why didn't I notice it before Erin? Did I even want to?

I let my legs carry me to places Ashley and I visit frequently, but there's no sign of her anywhere. I tried calling her name but I felt silly, so I stopped. I know she wouldn't have answered me, anyway. The last place I check is the river where she asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I sigh at the lack of Ashley and sit down heavily on the bridge.

I shouldn't have spoken to her like that. She didn't deserve it. I was just overwhelmed and I wanted her to hate me for a little while. I wanted her to get angry and make me hate her, too. I wanted this to be easier for both of us.

She gave me my family back for Christmas and all I do is keep pulling away and speaking to her like I should never speak to anybody. I sigh at myself and look to the riverbank that holds beautiful flowers every year.

I think about that word and try to piece my jumbled thoughts together. My legs move from underneath myself and I stand, heading to where I'm positive Ashley is.

It took fifteen minutes to get here, I don't stop at the gate and I don't pay attention to the dead people looking at me. But just because I wasn't paying attention, doesn't mean I don't stop when one of them walks into my path.

"What are you doing here?" a man, who looked to be in his forties when he died, asks me.

"Get out of my way," I tell him, not being particularly polite. I have more important people to talk to. Person, actually.

"You shouldn't still be here, Spencer Carlin."

I frown at how he knows my name and give him a dirty look before I walk around him, hurrying to my destination. I see Ashley kneeling next to my grave. Her body is leaning across and tracing my engraved name. Fresh flowers are also resting on top of my grave and when I look around her body, I see that the three next to mine have flowers, too.

I walk up to her and kneel down a short but necessary distance away. She glances across and she sets her eyes on my usual jean clad knees before looking away again. I'm first to speak, I have to be.

"I'm sorry," I say softly.

Her hair is blowing slightly in the wind and her voice is kind when she replies, "I know."

"I'm so sorry," I insist. "I don't usually speak to anybody like that."

Ashley keeps her eyes away from me, but her body language is positive. "It's okay, Spencer."

I'm looking at her, though. I can't look away. "It's never okay for me to speak to you like that."

"I know why you did."

"What?" I ask quickly.

Ashley turns around to face me, her eyes downcast. "I figured it out."

"You did?" I want to make sure she knows before I blab.

"Yesterday with Erin," she begins. "It didn't hurt you."

I don't want to confirm it right away. Part of me doesn't want to admit it out loud and I think back to when Ashley didn't want to ask me any questions. I understand that now because as soon as I say it out loud, it becomes real.

"Did it?" she asks for my confirmation.

I can't speak the words, but my slumped shoulders and sad eyes give her all the confirmation she needs. Her posture soon mirrors my own and her eyes soon close. I can see her trying not to cry, something I didn't manage to do a few hours earlier.

I ignore all the eyes I can feel watching us and I reach across to take a white rose from the dozen carefully placed through the slots on the flower pot of my grave. I kiss the tip of it like Ashley once did for me and press it to her lips.

"It's okay to cry," I whisper to her.

Her lips shake as she nods and her tears finally find their way from her closed eyelids.

"I love you," I say quietly, meaning every word more than anything.

Ashley's eyes open slowly and my heart grows heavy when I see how devastated they are. "I love you, too."

As soon as we got home, Ashley removed her coat and told me she was going for a shower. I nodded and told her that I'd wait downstairs for her. It was almost awkward. With the latest revelation, neither of us seem to know what to do or how to react. How does one react correctly to a situation like this?

I still don't know what to do, or how we're going to get past this. She's the only person who manages to make me feel alive when I'm dead. Other people acknowledge me, sure, but none of them make me feel like she does without even trying. None of those people would turn over in the middle of the night and smile at me unconsciously, none of those people would have looked at me so intently that it made me want to cry. I would never have felt any of their hearts stop for a second when I first kissed them.

I want her. All of her. And I've always wanted to at least kiss somebody in the shower.

Before I have the chance to change my mind or punk out, I stand up and walk up the stairs. I wait outside of the bathroom for a second and stand in the spot I waited for Ashley that one night all those months ago. The water is running and from what I can tell, she's underneath the spray of it, washing off the suds from her hair.

I slowly open the door to the bathroom and close it with just as much stealth. The glass from the shower cubicle is steamed up but I can see the outline of her body and how her head is tilted backward letting the shampoo run from her hair. The scent of her hygiene products is heavy in this steam-filled room. The scent of her is heavy in this steam-filled room.

When her head moves forward again I step closer and slide the door open , making sure to keep my eyes locked onto hers which have just shot open in surprise. Briefly, they widen even further and they darken in a way that's already making it difficult to breathe.

"Spence, what are you doing?" she asks me in a breathy whisper when I fully step inside the shower with her and close the door behind me.

"Whatever I want," I reply honestly.

Her deep breaths force away some of the steam surrounding us and I forget my stupid body and all of its stupid reactions. All I concentrate on is the perfectly sculpted body in front of me, the body my eyes want to scan over fully, but don't. Not yet.

My fingers touch hers and feel their higher temperature from being under the spray of hot water, they feel her soft but wet skin and how she's letting me touch her exactly how I want to. She's not pushing me for anything even though I'm the one who's fully clothed.

I pull my fingers away from hers and keep my eyes locked onto hers when my hand touches Ashley's bare stomach for the first time. She sounds like she's trying to remember how to breathe and, just for a second, I let my eyes close because I need to remember this and I need to hide how it's hurting me.

When they re-open, she's staring at my mouth and I part my lips slightly and look at hers, how inviting they look. My shallow breaths don't move the steam.

The hand on her stomach is beginning to cramp and I slide it around her slight frame, firmly but gently pulling her against me. I see the water being repelled from making contact with my skin, and I feel Ashley's soft skin underneath and how it's burning me more than any sun ever could.

Her breathing has picked up noticeably and I lean forward, pressing my lips against hers. It hurts more to kiss her than anything else, but I don't care. Ashley responds, keeping her hands away from me and down by her side. It's something I give her credit for.

Lips part and kisses grow deeper and longer. Moans get swallowed. Moans of pleasure and moans of discomfort, mixtures of both.

My hands are gently resting around her neck now and both are cramping despite my every effort for them not to. With rigid arms, I walk into her and she steps back, pressing against the tiled wall behind her. Her mouth pulls away from mine to draw in desperate breaths and I lean my head down to kiss her shoulder, the water bending just slightly to avoid my body with each movement I make.

On her shoulder, I feel the water underneath my tongue and lips just as much as I feel her tanned skin and racing heartbeat against my chest.

She can feel the tension in my arms and hands now. She pulls them away from her and is still a little out of breath. "Baby, stop."

"I can't," I confess, feeling my eyes pooling with tears the same time I feel a searing, white pain wrap around every nerve in my body. My forehead moves forward to be able to rest against hers. "I have to kiss you, touch you…."

And she's kissing me again.

Her hands release their hold of my wrists and instead frame my face, holding me in position as we kiss over and over. My hands move to grasp almost frantically at her hips, pulling them flush against mine as her tongue sweeps over my lip, gaining entrance almost instantly.

Her kiss halts abruptly, but she doesn't fully pull away from me. Her lips remain in front of mine, almost breathing into me as she gasps for breath and opens her lidded, almost black eyes. "Stop," she whispers, weakly.

"Why?" I can stand the pain a little longer.

"You know why," she says softly. "I want to, but I can't. Not when I can feel how it's hurting you."

It's not as bad as it was when we were in bed. My voice is shaking as I reply, "I don't care."

"I do. If we don't stop now, I won't be able to."

Studying her intently, I nod, and with difficulty, we both move away from each other "Okay." My voice is barely audible over the sound of the water and Ashley's still heavy breaths.

Turning to leave, I reconsider and lean back in, giving her one last kiss. It's soft and her full lips part and press forward against mine before I pull away and finally get out of the shower.

I lean against the bathroom door as soon as I close it and I run my tongue over my lips, tasting Ashley. My body still feels like it's on fire, my arms are still rigid in pain, and my hands are still cramping in agony, but we stopped soon enough that I can already feel it lessening and not increasing to the level it did a couple of weeks ago when we got carried away.

Remaining true to my word, I walk back down the stairs in an almost trance-like state. I can still feel her body against me and it's making me uncomfortable in the most comfortable of ways.

Ashley sat with her legs crossed tightly for the rest of the day and I admit to smiling at the sight, but there was always the undercurrent of dread of how this is going to work, of what we're going to do. I don't think either of us has a clue.