Author's Notes

Shorter chapter again. Sorry for the delay. Between classes starting again, homework, and this girl I just met, I haven't had a whole lot of free time with which to write, and I figured you wouldn't want me to sacrifice quality for speed. Going out of town for the weekend, so I won't be able to get anything done for the next two days. Sorry.

I meant to mention this in the author's notes for last chapter, but I've put up new links in the profile, so that you can follow me via your favorite social networking site. Some of them get more personal than others, and one of them is strictly a writing blog, so have a look around and take your pick. You'll be able to keep up with what I'm writing, and what's inspiring me. Could offer some insight.

Special Request: Please, please, please, don't be offended by what I'm about to say. This actually doesn't go for most of you, but I've gotten a few "reviews" that disturb me. If you're going to "review" my story with only "update soon," to say to me, please don't bother. It does not motivate me to update any sooner, and actually makes me feel like a monkey in a circus; one that wants to rebel against its captors, and I might just withhold in defiance. I'm glad you like my writing and everything, but I don't do it for you, and I owe you nothing. Saying only "update soon" is awfully offensive.

Abnormally Attracted to Sin

Chapter 17: You Climbed China's Wall

By Persephone's Nautical Nun

My body wakes up before my mind does, and when I stretch across an empty bed, my head immediately questions why. I sit up, looking around the room, and noticing the mid-morning light coming in through the window. My brow furrows, because this isn't how I imagined I'd be waking up. I try to suppress the panic that comes with the thought that she might have taken off again, but it doesn't really work.

It smells like there's something cooking and without even bothering to put on clothes, I throw the blankets off of me and pad my way out into the living room, and the morning is ten times better when I see Emily standing over the stove. She's got her back to me, so when I ask "Why aren't you in bed with me?" she jumps.

She turns, and there's already a small smile on her lips that grows when she sees my state of undress, but she recovers quickly. "Because I'm making breakfast that I can then bring back to be to you," she explains.

I smile and make my way over to her, sliding my thumbs through her belt loops. "But why do you have clothes on?" I ask, giving her my best pouty face, but she only laughs.

"Because it's not entirely safe or hygienic to cook in the nude," she says, playfully pushing me away and turning her attention back to her breakfast project. "Besides, you had so much fun taking them off last night that I thought I'd give you the opportunity to do it again," she adds, offhandedly.

I'm struck with the realization that this is simple and easy, and not unpleasant in the least, and I wonder how that can be, since I spent so long avoiding it. "I didn't know you could cook," I say, smiling at her teasing, but not actually needing to comment on it, and I move to the other side of the bar.

She makes a kind of disapproving sound in the back of her throat, and turns off the burner, sliding whatever was sizzling in the pan onto a large plate. "I can't, not really," she says, grabbing two forks out of a drawer. "My culinary skills begin and end with the omelet," she explains, producing a massive one and setting it down on the bar between us. It's even veggie. Sweet.

"We might be in trouble, then," I say, grabbing one of the forks, and taking a bite out of my side. "I can't cook either," I explain, shrugging. It's not until I think about what I've just said that the implications around it settle in, and a quick glance at Emily tells me she caught it, too, though she doesn't say anything.

I can feel her eyes rake over my body, and the feeling's confirmed when I see the look on her face. "Are you going to get dressed today?" she asks, smiling, and I think she might just be trying to get us past that awkward moment.

"I hadn't really planned on it," I say, shrugging, and sounding truly nonchalant. It only lasts for a second, though, before I have to look up at her and let a smile creep across my face.

She sighs slowly and stares at me, not even trying to hide it, and I have to work to maintain eye contact, because it's starting to get really intense. Emily can be really intimidating without even really meaning to. "I hate it," she says finally, mostly to herself, but I hear it anyway, and I'm immediately swallowed in a bubble of doom.

"What do you hate?" I ask, trying to sound merely mildly curious, rather than utterly terrified, and I mostly succeed.

"That I can't stay mad at you," she clarifies, setting her hand on the counter and propping herself against her arm, looking down.

I have no idea how to respond to that, or even how I feel about it. I mean, I guess I should be glad about it on a certain level, but on a deeper one, I feel kind of sick. People should be allowed to feel what they want to feel for as long as they want to feel it, otherwise, they'll never come to terms with these feelings, and won't know what to do with them with they finally catch up.

Trust me, I learned the hard way.

"I'm afraid you'll use it against me," she says, but it's almost a whisper. It's a wonder I hear her at all, and I wonder why she said it in the first place, because I'm fairly certain she didn't actually want me to hear it.

I sigh, slowly and evenly, because I'm starting to see the mess I've made and I don't know how to start cleaning it up. "Maybe we should have that talk," I say after a few minutes of silence.

"What talk?" she asks, looking up at me, her voice not quite returning to normal.

I pull one side of my mouth up into a half-smirk. "You know, the one where we process this change in our relationship, and figure out our next step," I explain, and she nods. "Let me just go put some clothes on." I can see her nod slightly as I turn and make my way to the bedroom.

It seems that I always know what to say until it's time to actually say it, because as I'm putting on my clothes and trying to prepare a heartfelt speech, I'm coming up empty. How can I make up for this; the time wasted, and the complexes given? How can I make up for the fact that I've apparently made her just as afraid of me as I am of her? How could I have done that in the first place?

And how do we get past it all?

I take a deep breath and steel myself before going back out into the living room. Emily is sitting on the floor with her back against the pillar, and I set myself down across from her. I decide it's best to just jump in, so without any kind of lead in, I say, "I think you deserve to know that I'm not entirely sure about everything that's going on with me," to which she nods slowly in understanding. "But that doesn't really concern you," I say, and she starts to protest, but I talk over her, something which I make a note not to make a habit of, but might be okay under the given circumstances. "Because I do know that life sucks when you're not in it," I explain, and she listens. "I know there's something here," I say, gesturing between the two of us, "and I would like to explore it. I think I'll go crazy if I don't."

"I want to be with you, Naomi. I think you know that," she says, and I not. It's hardly a secret. "But why don't we ease into things?" she suggests, and I find myself nodding more vigorously. "Just," she starts, and bites her lip, looking down before looking back at me. "You have to relax. You have to let whatever happens happen, because I can't chase you anymore."

Fair enough. I'm sure I don't even deserve the chance I'm getting, and she's still willing to not push me into anything. Girl must have the patience of a saint. There's no other explanation for it.

She stands up, and I guess the matter's settled, even though I don't exactly know what we are, but I guess that might be the point. She flounces off to the bedroom, and a few seconds later, I hear her yell, "Now, let's figure out what to do with your things."

I feel my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, even though there's no one around to see it, and quickly get to my feet. "I thought I'd take it home today," I explain, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorframe.

She looks at me contemplatively for a few minutes, head cocked to the side and all. "You're already moved in here, right?" she asks, and I nod. "Well," she says, slowly, making her way over to me. "You're going to be spending most of your time over the next month or so over here, anyway, you might as well stay for a while."

I want to smile, because I like how she very pointedly did not ask me to move in with her, but I fight it because I don't want to give her the wrong idea. "Why will I be spending most of my time here?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and mostly succeeding at sounding serious.

She grins and bites her lip before kissing me quickly on the lips. "Because girls are never done having sex," she mumbles, her voice low, and the last coherent thought I have is about how I shouldn't have bothered getting dressed at all.

*****

There is an incessant banging on the door, and it is seriously interfering with my sleep. I hear Emily groan, and feel her shift next to me. "Fuck," she mumbles, rolling off the mattress onto all fours, before clumsily standing up.

"Stay here," I grumble, lazily reaching for her as she reaches for a shirt. "They'll go away," I try to reason as she slides my shirt over her head. Great. I'll have to waste time taking that off later.

The knocking continues, and she huffs as she finds a pair of shorts and slides them up her legs. "I really don't think they will," she explains unhappily as the knocking gets louder and more urgent. She kisses me once, and then she's out of the room. "Alright, I'm coming, shut the fuck up," she yells to whoever's on the other side of the door.

The banging stops, and there are a few seconds of silence, before I hear the front door open. "Emily!" I can hear Shane yell, and I can imagine him engulfing her in a hug.

"Fuck," I repeat Emily's earlier sentiment and pass my hand over my face. I should get dressed. This probably isn't going to be a quick visit. I force myself up and out of bed and begin the legendary quest for clothes. It's been so long since I've worn any, that I've almost forgotten what they are entirely.

"No one's heard from you since you left a few days ago," I can hear Shane explain from the living room. "And your phone goes straight to voicemail. We were worried."

A few days? Emily just got back… I think. I finish pulling on some pajama pants, and find my phone, quickly turning it on Sure enough, it tells me it's 8:30pm on a Monday night. Last time I checked, it was Friday. Where did my days go? Shit, I missed class. I think about what I was doing during that time, and I can't help but smile at the memory of Emily on the counter.

"Yeah, well I've been busy," Emily counters, and I can just imagine her stuffing her hands in her pockets. Well, if she had any. She must be going insane, not having anything to do with her hands. I decide to save her, and step out into the living room, realizing that AJ and Bryan are here, too.

"Naomi!" AJ exclaims when he sees me, making his way over to me and throwing his arm around my shoulders. I tense, but otherwise don't react. No point in causing a scene. "How have you been?" he asks, and I notice he's devoid of his trademark gross smirk.

Huh.

"Hi, AJ," I say, plastering on a too obviously patient smile. I don't want to be in this situation.

I notice Bryan arch an eyebrow at Emily, and stare at her pointedly as he sees me, but Emily simply arches her own eyebrow in defiance, and he shrugs and throws his hands up in surrender, and I'm amazed, amused, jealous, and a little bit scared that they can communicate that way.

Could she even do that with Katie?

Shane looks between me and Emily, even though we're on completely opposite sides of the room. He crosses his arms out in front of him and points to each of us. "I think you guys might be wearing each other's clothes," he observes, putting his arms down and looking at me. "I mean, I know that's Emily's shirt," he tells me before looking at Emily. "I've never seen that one before. I guess it could be new," he reasons, cupping his chin and looking thoughtful.

"Yeah, well, I was in a hurry to get dressed. Someone refused to stop rapping at my chamber door," Emily snarks, and again I remember that she's Katie's sister. It's so easy to forget, sometimes.

AJ moves his arm from around my neck and walks over to Emily, jabbing her playfully in the side. "And why were you undressed in the first place?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Because we've been fucking like bunnies," I say, crossing my arms, and somehow managing to keep a straight face. I'm not sure why I said it. I guess I just wanted to go ahead and get it out there, so that we can get the teasing portion of this conversation over, and the room goes silent.

Shane's the first one to start laughing, followed by Emily and AJ. Bryan just looks down, but it looks like he might be trying to stifle a chuckle. "Congratulations," Shane says, coming over to me and shaking my hand, clapping me on the shoulder as though I've just won a prize.

I guess maybe I have.

"So you two finally got together?" AJ asks, looking at Emily.

She looks sideways towards me for a second before she answers. "Not exactly," she mumbles, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "We're still working a few things out," she explains.

"Well, that's a step in the right direction," Shane says, raising his arm as though he's toasting, though he's not holding anything, and I can't help but laugh at how happy he seems. Especially considering his feelings for Emily. Poor guy.

"Well, that's cause for celebration," Bryan speaks for the first time. He's been leaned up against a small table that Emily uses to drop her keys and mail on when she walks through the door. It's more of a night stand, really, and he reaches behind his back and produces a cigar box from seemingly nowhere. He opens it and pulls out one of the longest joints I've ever seen, holding it between his thumb and index finger and presenting it to Emily, like a child bringing home an art project.

I watch as she takes it from him, and wraps her lips around the end, loving the way she pulls them in towards her teeth so as not to get it wet. He hands her a lighter, and she fires it up, catching the tip on fire, blowing smoke out of her nostrils to extinguish it. She inhales deeply, the ember glowing bright orange and creeping ever slowly towards her mouth.

Emily watching is a new hobby of me.

She walks over to me, passing me the spliff and gently blowing smoke in my face. I think I can feel a head change, and it's not from the THC. Without a word, I take my own hit and pass it on to Shane, noticing Emily smile at me as I do so.

Maybe there's room for me in this part of her life, after all.