Warning: this fic is not for those who have closed minds.

What is this hold she has over me? Why does she make me feel this way? I look the perfect girl sitting on my bed, not even realizing the way she drives me crazy. She excites me in ways that I could never have imagined before I met her. Her eyes focus on the TV screen before us, but all I can see is her.

A sudden laugh fills the room and makes me jump out of my thoughts. I giggle, creating the illusion that I give a damn. I don't really know, nor do I care what we're watching. I only care about the girl beside me, and suppressing the urge to take her in my arms and kiss her.

"Get a grip of yourself," I whisper. "It'll never happen."

A commercial break begins and she rolls onto her back to look up to me. "What's up," she asks me. She puts her head on my lap to make herself more comfortable and I feel like I'm about to melt.

God, why dose she have to be so warm? I ask. "Nothing," I reply.

"Are you sure, because you seem as if you're a million miles away."

"Of course I'm sure," I say to her as I look at the television screen. I found it too hard to look into her eyes and not want her.

"If something were wrong, you would tell me, right?" She was sitting up straight on the bed now. She flicks the TV off scoots over so she's right in front of me, giving me nowhere to look but at her.

"Look, I'm fine," I say to her. Could that be any farther from the truth, I ask myself. I mean, I'm in love with the girl. I'm not supposed to be, but I can't help how I feel. I just can't help it and I'm sick of trying to.

I turn my head away from her and close my eyes tight. My fingers feel hers entangling with them. Dose she know? Does she want me too?

"I love you," she says to me.

I'm crazy. Either that or I actually heard her correctly. I choose to go with the scenario that makes me happier. She said she loved me. I finally do what I've wanted to do ever since I met her. I take her into my arms and kiss her. A part of it feels unreal but I know that is going on. Nobody can ever feel that good if they're just imagining it. We pull away, leaving each other gasping for air.

I try to take a glance at the love of my life and am devastated to see the look on her face. She sits in front of me, startled and confused, tracing her bottom lip with her fingertips.

"I…I didn't mean it like that," she says. "I meant that I love you as a friend, Grace. Just a friend."

She quickly grabs her sweater and heads for the door.

"Joan, wait," I call, knowing well that I'm too late.

These are the moments; I think to myself as I fight back the tears, these are the teenaged moments that make you want to crawl into a whole and die. If Joan was ever supposed to know how much I loved her, it was not tonight. How could I be so stupid?

A/N: Just a short fic from the top of my head. Hope you all don't hate slashes, because the relationship in the story was intended to be a secret until the end, although I'm sure everyone guessed it ahead of time since I had to warn the homophobes that this is a slash. Feedback is welcomed. Flames aren't, but I can't really stop anyone so…