48 Isabel

I watched her again tonight. I watched her pretend to sleep. She tossed and turned over what we knew now. We saw the place where they had been blown up, nothing, there was nothing but a crater. She didn't want to see her mom. I didn't want to see my parents. Everything was different now. Suddenly we had a place to go back to, and a family again. I didn't know how desperately I wanted my family back until I could have them, and chose not to. There are other things to do first. I have to find Max; I have to tell him. But there's one thing that keeps running through my head. "I will just pray that someday it will be safe enough. And I watch her pretend to sleep, and my fantasies run through my mind, and who am I but Vilondra, breaking promises, breaking so many promises. But maybe I won't be a heartbreaker, not a seducer, and not a destroyer of worlds. I'll go back to him. I'll try to fall in love with him again. I'll give up these crazy stupid fantasies. I'll never be her lover. She wants nothing to do with me. It would be so easy just to go back to him. Give everything up. I'm not going to own her. She'll never cry my name. She'll never love me; she'll never

She opens her eyes and looks at me looking at her. Her eyes are so sharp, her lips, oh god, this is unfair!

She reaches out and caresses my face. I look like myself at night, she said she was uncomfortable sleeping with a strange guy. I didn't think

"I can't sleep," she was looking at me, at me! "I need to stop thinking.

Her hand goes around my head, into my hair and she pulls me down, I sink into her lips, sink so deeply. I can't do this, but I don't want anything else. I slip my fingers into her hair. I kiss her, and kiss her. I could never stop, I never want to. But this is my only chance, just one, in some unknown motel room, under fake names, needing to be separate from our old lives and the new ones that may come.

It's so easy sometimes, sometimes you just know what you really want. And I prepared, I prepared to hear Michael, or even Liz, or maybe my narcissistic seductress would call her own. But it was me, it was for me and my stomach plunged, my heart raced, at hearing the name from her lips. I couldn't have been more shocked if she screamed Vilondra, well, I might have been a little more shocked. I felt like she was mine, and we finally slept, the nightmare-free sleep of the wicked.

And she's here, like she has been for a while now, her hair splayed on the pillow, her lips kissed free of makeup, completely detached from the world, completely detached from me. And it's fine. I don't mind anymore. I've had her once, delved into sinful pleasure, had everything that I wanted. I don't have to feel deprived anymore. I can go back to Jesse. I can start a life, start living, not running, and when she becomes a famous musician I will never say, ÔI had her once. But I'll think it. I just have to tell Max and Michael that it's safe. That we can be here, we can be alive.

She might be embarrassed when she wakes up. She might regret it. I just want to make this easy. I slip out of bed and get dressed, then start cleaning up, re-packing.

Maria rolls over and wakes up. "Is?" she looks around, then she notices her lack of clothes and eeps. I glance over and roll my eyes. Then I chuck her clothes at her and head into the bathroom.

I brush my teeth and fix my face and wait until I figure it's safe, and head back in. She's putting her bra on. She looks at me, blushes a little and pulls her shirt over her head. I pick up the bag and swing it over my shoulder.

"I need to get gas. Will you be ready in ten minutes or should I come back for you?

She looks at me, a little worried. "Is that it? That's just it? You fuck me and that's it?

"I figured that would be just right. Her eyes widen. "I'm not saying you're not luscious and uber-fuckable, but we're moving on, right?

"But, you

"What? You want me to pine over you forever? You don't want anything more," and I'm not going to be vulnerable.

She laughs, "You're right. Apparently you can read me very well. She pouts at me, making a reference to other sensitivity I have.

"Well I'm not a guy. I have to have a little more experience, right?

She would have blushed if she were Liz, but Maria doesn't blush, she likes it.

"Your skill is unmistakable," she drawls, "I'll be ready to go soon. And she rushes into the bathroom. Well, she's not going to pine over me either. I like her. It's frustrating and embarrassing, but I think I like her. I'm not just drooling over her body or her lips. I think I like her, as a friend thing,