A/N TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of Christian's abuse when he was younger. Please skip if you find it triggering. Love always, Elizabeth x

The following morning after Michael's get together, he messaged me to go out with him for lunch. I wore grey jeans and he picked me up as we drove to his favourite sushi bar, just a little while out of town. The food was amazing, and we had a great time continuing our talk from last night. He asked me more questions about myself; my childhood, my friendship with Kate, my parents. He told me his own stories in turn and before I knew it, the sky was turning dark. I'd had such a good time, I hadn't even noticed the day slip into night. He was the perfect gentleman throughout, and when he dropped me home, he pulled me in for a kiss. It was a pleasant sensation, but I thought it was lacking something. Not like when I kissed Christian. He bid me goodbye and as soon as I got in, I facetimed Kate to tell her all about it.

On Sunday, I caught up with all my homework and went for dinner with my parents at Bella Italia. When my dad slipped out to the bathroom, my mom started cornering me about whether or not I'd managed to persuade to tell Christian to talk to his parents.

I shook my head, slightly annoyed.

"It's important Ana," she said reproachfully. "If this were in reverse, I know Grace would let me know."

"I said I'd try okay?" I snapped.

The conversation was ceased by my dad coming back and announcing that he'd just seen a couple with an amazing looking hot fudge sundae, which we had to order.

At school the next day, I was feeling tired. I'd stayed up almost all night finishing my English essay and was almost close to dozing when Christian nudged me.

It took a while to register the fact that we were speaking again, and I sat up, brushing the hair out of my eyes.

"Late night?" He asked. There was an edge to his voice.

"I had to finish my essay," I said, looking over at him.

"Oh," he said, evident relief in his voice. "Did you manage it?" He asked then, with an attempt at casualness.

I nodded and looked back over at my book. The way he was looking at me… I could feel myself warming up all over and I didn't even know why. How did he have such a profound effect on me?

"What are you doing after school?" He asked, still surveying me.

I looked up again. "I'm not sure, why?"

He shrugged. "Do you want to do something?"

"With you?" I asked dumbly.

"No," he rolled his eyes. "With the mayor."

I bit my lip. Was this a good idea? Spending time alone together so soon?

"Like what?" I asked, stalling.

"We could watch a movie," he suggested. "Or go for a meal."

"So, a date then?" I asked sceptically.

He had the decency to blush. I hated myself for finding it endearing.

"We're just friends Christian," I reminded him.

"So?" He said, getting defensive. "You go to the movies with Kate."

"It's different and you know it," I replied. Kate hadn't kissed my boobs for one…

And then the teacher told us to shut up and I was grateful for the interruption.

At lunch, Michael asked Kate and I to sit with him, Elliot and Rob. Danny had, for obvious reasons, been disowned. Christian went to play football and with no reason not to, I said yes.

As I ate my bagel, Elliot tried to repeatedly talk to me. I continued to remain frosty. Kate and he kept glancing at one another, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I couldn't for the life of me understand what she saw in him.

Michael was sitting next to me and he'd occasionally touch my hand or brush my thigh. I should have felt tingles, and I did. To an extent. But if I was going to compare it to when Christian touched me, it would be like comparing butterflies and eagles.

In maths later on, I could feel Christian's gaze on my legs. Today I was wearing a black denim skirt and I'd put on a new body lotion which made my legs tanned and glowy.

"Stop staring," I said to him, keeping my own gaze on the teacher.

I could feel the smirk.

"I like your legs," he said quietly, unabashed. "I like everything about you."

I willed the heat to go away. All it took from him was a small comment to make my insides explode…I both loved and hated the effect he had on me.

"And if you'd just work on page 47," Mr Tanner said. "You may work with your partner, there's some difficult equations. You have until the end of class to answer all the questions."

Christian turned to me immediately.

"Hello partner," he said, raising and waggling his eyebrows.

Despite myself, I laughed.

"You're such an idiot," I told him. "Come on, we have to answer these questions."

Christian answered them expertly, with time to spare. In that time, he preceded to once again ask me about doing something with him after school.

"I just don't think it's a good idea," I said uncomfortably. Why was his gaze so penetrative?

"Don't think you can keep your hands to yourself?" He asked playfully.

I shot him a dirty look.

"Is it something else?" He asked seriously, when I didn't answer. "Michael?" He pressed.

I looked away. Was it about Michael? Not really…I wasn't sure.

"I know you went on a date with him," he pressed. "Word travels fast."

"So what if I did?" I said, annoyed. "We're not together anymore Christian."

"Did he make you feel like I do?" He asked then, moving his chair a little closer. I could smell his aftershave – his scent that was so uniquely him. I could feel his eyes travel the length of my body without even looking at him.

"Stop," I whispered angrily.

"You didn't say that when I made you orgasm," he whispered back.

My heart started to beat a little faster. I closed my legs shut tightly.

"I can do it again," he said, even quieter. "With my fingers this time."

Despite myself, I flushed. And then I felt his hand on my thigh; it burned through me, all the way to my core. I swatted it away, but he took my hand instead.

"I still love you," he said. "I've never stopped, and I never will."

The bell rang and I withdrew my hand, heart hammering as I stalked out of the room.

At home, as I tried to do my homework, my thoughts centred around Christian and what had happened today. It was all I could think about. When I got a text, my thoughts immediately fled to him but instead, I saw it was from Michael. Feeling bad that I hadn't even given him a second thought, I decided that it was time to be honest him with him. He was a great guy and didn't deserve to pursue a girl whose heart was still somewhere else.

He'd asked if I wanted to grab ice-cream with him and so I agreed. He picked me up and we both shared a huge strawberry sundae in his car. The weather had turned drizzly and his car was warm. When we'd finished, and he leaned in to kiss me, I pulled back. He looked at me quizzically as he sat back up right.

"Michael," I started, but he cut me off.

"You're not feeling it," he stated matter-of-factly.

I didn't want to meet his gaze. I'd never been in this situation before and I felt uncomfortable and mean.

"You're such a nice guy. I really do want to be friends with you," I said instead.

He laughed a little and it wasn't mean or sarcastic. I felt him tilt my chin back up, meeting his eyes at last.

"It's okay," he said, letting me go softly. "You don't have to feel bad. You can't help what you feel. I'm guessing it's still Christian isn't it?"

There was no malice or envy in his voice. Just a quiet sadness. It made me feel worse.

I nodded.

"Well, I hope he knows how lucky he is," he said then, straightening up and surveying me. "He better not break your heart again or he'll have me to deal with."

"So you still want to be my friend?" I asked feebly.

"Course," he nodded, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.

He dropped me home and I got wet as I ran in to shelter from the rain. To my immense surprise, Christian was sat in my living room drinking tea with my mom. He jumped up when he saw me and moved to help me out of my damp coat.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Your mom asked to speak to me," he said. There was a hint of anger in his voice, but he masked it well. "She asked my mom if I'd come and have tea with her. You told her about the party."

I shook out my hair and put it in a bun on the top of my head, avoiding his gaze.

"I'm not going to say sorry," I finally said. "I think you should tell your parents."

"Yeah, I gathered that," he snapped. "What good will telling them do though Ana? What is it going to achieve?"

"It will make sure that Danny is punished," I snapped back. "You can't go around letting people off for committing crimes Christian. At the very least, he should be expelled."

He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it.

I crossed my arms and he glowered down at me.

"Will you tell them?" I asked, unrelenting. "My mom will if you won't Christian, so I think it better be you."

He looked away. He didn't answer but he didn't say no, which I took as a good sign.

At some point my mom had slipped out to the kitchen. Both Christian and I stared out the window; the rain was lashing against the window now. It looked like there was a possibility of thunder.

"How are you getting home?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Dad dropped me and said he'd pick me up. Not sure if he will now there's lightning. Could be dangerous."

Christian stayed for dinner and it was a tense affair. At the table, my dad kept glaring at him, and I kept kicking him under the chair to tell him to stop. We were eating apple pie when Grace rang, fretting about the weather. It was full blown thunder and lightning now; everyone had decided it was best for Christian to stay the night.

"He's not sleeping in Ana's room," my dad said at once, when mom hung up the phone.

"He can sleep on the couch," my mom said, not wanting an argument. "You don't mind do you Christian?"

Christian shook his head, but I saw him give me a wild smirk.

Dad turned in early and mom set up Christian's bed for him on the couch before she left for bed too.

"You can stay downstairs for a bit," she said to me. "But I want you upstairs soon."

I rolled my eyes. "We're not together," I reminded her.

She just laughed and made her way upstairs. I followed her and got ready for bed.

Christian was settled on the couch when I went back downstairs. I was freshly showered, my hair shiny and blow-dried, wearing a pair of pyjama shorts and a tank top.

"Your butt looks good in those," he said as I closed the living room door and made my way over.

He patted the spot next to him, but I remained at the foot of the couch.

"You went out with Michael," he said, his eyes boring deep into mine.

"I don't want to talk about Michael," I replied.

He sat up eagerly. "Why? Did you break it off with him?"

His happy expression irritated me and I glared at him.

"Does that make you happy?" I asked bitterly.

"Yes," he replied bluntly. "Very. Michael isn't for you."

"And I suppose you are?" I asked sarcastically.

"Precisely," he said, and then he was right next to me, pulling me down beneath the covers with him.

"Christian my parents are upstairs!" I protested, though I must admit not very hard. The feel of his warm body was like heaven.

I wanted him like I'd never wanted anything, but I also didn't want to give in too easily.

He rolled on top of me, looking down into my eyes. He tenderly pushed my hair behind my ear and gave my forehead a lingering kiss. Our bodies were pressed so closely together, and I loved every minute of it. When he kissed softly underneath my chin, I closed my eyes in pleasure and arched, giving him more access. I wasn't surprised this was happening. I'd be lying to myself if I said I was. Upstairs, I'd spent a while choosing my pyjamas carefully and brushing out my hair. I couldn't deny my feelings and ache for him anymore, neither did I want to.

"I love you Ana," he whispered, pulling back to look at me. "I'm so sorry."

I sat up and pressed my lips against his forcefully. The force with which he kissed me back was everything. Every nerve in my body came alive and I was touching his hair, his neck, back, chest. I wanted to see more of him. Needed to.

I pulled back momentarily to lift his shirt over his head but was surprised when he hesitated.

"What's wrong?" I asked gently.

"I…" he started but couldn't seem to finish.

"Tell me," I whispered, moving so that I was straddling his lap. "You can trust me."

He closed his eyes for a moment and then with a big sigh, lifted the shirt over his head.

All thoughts of passion died as I took in the marks on his chest. How was it possible that in all the years of knowing him I'd never seen it? Thoughts of him never attending swimming parties flashed through my mind. This was why.

The scars that littered his chest were faint, but still very much visible. They were healed over but still bore the familiar shapes of a badly shaped holes.

"What happened?" I asked, tracing my fingers over one next to his nipple. He sucked in a breath and I stilled, looking up at him.

"Should I stop?" I asked quietly, withdrawing my hand.

To my surprise, he grabbed it back and placed it right over his heart.

"Nobody's ever touched me here. Brings back memories," he said quietly, almost ashamed. "But I want you to touch me everywhere, here included. You're the only person I trust."

Warmth filled me but I wanted to cry. His beautiful chest…marred.

"Who did this to you?" I asked.

"My birth mom," he explained, not quite looking at me. "She was a drug addict and prostitute. She had a boyfriend that pimped her out. He liked to hurt me for being in the way. Sometimes just for fun."

I dropped my hand in shock. My eyes filled with tears as I tried to comprehend what he was telling me. He'd been abused. That's why he was taken from his birth parents and put up for adoption. Naively, I had assumed he'd had an underage mother or something. Or perhaps his biological parents had died. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that this was the reason.

"I'm so sorry," I said, feeling my heart shatter into a million pieces. The idea of anyone doing something like this to a child was…abhorrent. I couldn't comprehend that it had happened to him. Before I knew it, I was sobbing.

"It's alright," he said, wrapping his arms around me and rubbing my back soothingly, but we both knew it wasn't.

He was comforting me….

"It was a long time ago," he added, stroking my hair. "I'm fine now."

We stayed like that for a long time. Just hugging each other as though it could melt away the previous pain.

"I love you too," I whispered against his neck. "I always have and I always will."

I could feel him smile against me.

"I know."

What do we think? Did Ana give in too soon? Remember, she's just a teenager with hormones too! Both have got a lot of learning and growing up to do. Love to know your thoughts! xxx