"I thought I told you not to touch me." I said softly. Paul flickered his eyes to me fearfully, although his feather-light fingers did not move from my side. He'd been doing it for an hour, just watching me, his fingers running themselves up and down the length of me, tracing little circles into my skin. He'd been comically careful not to go anywhere scandalous, and because of that I found myself confused and somewhat intrigued.

Goosebumps were rising everywhere his fingers went, his touch leaving a blazing trail of heat behind it.

"I'm sorry, I really di-"

"How come you're so warm?" I asked, not recoiling from his touch. He laid an entire palm across my side, his fingertips brushing the top of my ribs. I shuddered at the sensation, electricity jolting through my body.

"It's a secret," He said softly looking at me. "Are you cold?"

"No," I lied, sitting up in the soft fluffy comforter. "How come you're so warm?" I asked again.

"Probably just a fever." Paul murmured, still lost in my face. He was studying my expression gravely.

"Probably." I repeated, staring back at him. Electricity was buzzing everywhere, and for a split second I thought perhaps I'd like to kiss him. I shoved the thought away quickly, sliding out of the sheets. Paul remained on his knees for a few moment before standing up next to me, towering me within seconds. He was so tall…and so sexy….and so close….

"I need to shower." I blurted out, my cheeks turning red. Paul grabbed a towel from the hall closet and grabbed my hand, leading me to the bathroom silently.

"Are you okay to stay by yourself?" he asked seriously. I nodded, my teeth chattering. "I'm gonna go get wood for the fire, alright? Call me if you need me."

"But how are you gonna hear me-"

"Trust me. Just call me, I don't care what it is, just say my name. I'll hear you, I'll find you, I promise."

We stood there staring at each other for a few more moments, my heart speeding up slightly at the sight of him. It killed me to admit it, but he was beautiful. He looked like a God covered in satiny copper skin, heat radiating off of every inch of his perfectly sculpted body. I wanted to touch him. Kiss him. Lick him. Feel my way around the landscape that he was.

But he only stared at me for a few more moments before kissing my forehead gently and walking away.

I sighed.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I grumbled, looking at myself in the mirror. Oh God. Rough was an easy way to put it. To be honest, I looked like I'd just gotten hit with a Mack truck. But Paul had still been staring at me like I was Aphrodite herself. "Fairytales don't exist." I hissed, waving away the idea that my prince charming was somehow living in an estranged cabin with me.

I only took a few minutes in the shower, each second feeling worse and worse. I wanted Paul to be home already, I didn't like it in this God forsaken cabin without him. Not that I missed him, or anything…it was just nice to have somebody around and make it less creepy to be stuck in the middle of bad weather.

I looked out of the window, grimacing slightly as the wind and thunder began to pick up, the skies darkening again. It would rain soon. I washed my hair and brushed it, adding the leave-in conditioner before trudging back to Paul's room. It was rather plan, with silver walls and matching navy furniture-but it was ridiculously large. Light carpet matched the walls and stretched at least seventeen feet wide, two large floor-to-ceiling windows sitting at the West of the room. I picked up a comic and fiddled with it, running my fingers over tiny model superhero toys and matchbox cars. Maybe we weren't so different deep down inside.

Thunder crashed, earning a wince from me. Paul had been gone for half an hour. I dug through his closet, pulling out a pair of light blue basketball shorts. They looked like they'd fit a ten year old. Sighing, I went to his parent's room. I didn't like stealing, but I promised I'd bring the items back once I was finished with them. I took a pair of white jean shorts and a pink low-cut T-shirt, wondering how the Hell anybody's Mom could be a size 5. When I found a picture of her sitting on one of the nightstands, I understood. She was flawless.

Thick, black, luscious hair framed her perfect oval face, her high cheekbones catching the light of the camera flash. She flashed a perfect set of square, white teeth underneath a set of thin but smooth lips, her perfectly arched eyebrows perched over dazzling dark eyes. Paul looked more like her than he looked like his father.

Speaking of that stupid douche….where the Hell was he, anyways? As I sifted through the fridge and came out empty handed, I glanced at the clock. An hour. An hour to get firewood, and we didn't have a car. A sickening toxin built up in the pit of my stomach as I bit my lip, knowing it was pretty damn stupid for both of us to get lost somewhere in these God forsaken trees, but I couldn't stand the thought of him being hurt without me being there to help him. I rolled my eyes and shouted in annoyance, snatching a flashlight from the hall closet and putting on Paul's oversized leather jacket.

This son of a gun owed me big time.

I trudged through the thick, wet trees, rain soaking me down to my soul. I'd been walking for twenty minutes, and still, there was no sign of my rescuer.

"Paul?" I called out for the sixtieth time in a row. Nada. All around me I heard the snap of twigs, the calling of distressed birds, but no matter what I shouted, no matter where I went, Paul was nowhere to be found.

The woods were thick with danger. Every nerve in my body was on overdrive, screaming at me to run in the other direction, whispering that maybe Paul had already made it home, and that all of my worrying had been for nothing. Lightning struck a tree only a few feet away, sending the heavy trunk crashing to the ground. I jumped, screaming loud enough to override the thunder.

I was not by myself. There was something moving in the trees, something causing the leaves to rustle in unnatural movements, my heart jumping out of my chest like it wanted to get the Hell out of here.

A low whine rang out from behind me and I turned, dropping the flashlight clean in the mud. I was screwed. Looking into the weary but dangerous eyes before me, I realized that coming out here had been one of the best, and worst decisions I'd ever made.

I thought of all the things I never got to do in life. Skydiving, getting married, having kids, making it to college….so many things had been left unsaid and undone.

Suddenly I wanted Paul back.

Maybe if I'd known that I was so close to death, I would've kissed him. Hell, maybe I would've jumped on him and kept him in the bedroom for the last few hours I had to live-but I wasn't brave enough to live in the moment. I suddenly understood what Paul had meant about living to the fullest, about learning to live on the wild side, because now that I was about to die, I began to realize that my life had amounted to just about nothing. I'd never done anything great, I'd never said anything worth remembering, and I'd spent the last few weeks pushing away the one boy who could've actually taught me something useful.

I wanted to be back in the thick fluffy navy sheets, inhaling his scent and dreaming it was where I belonged. I wanted his hand on my side again, his fingers running up and down my skin like he owned me. I wanted to feel wanted. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to tell me I was pretty. For the first time in my life, I wanted him to call me Princess again.

I was going to die.