Crushing Gravity

Chapter 20

Ever since I was little, I loved my eyes. I took so much pride in their unique color that is worn on all the females of my family.

I would stare at them in the mirror for hours, seeing my sister and my mother in them. I would look at all the similar characteristics we all shared, and search hard for my father.

I never could find him. I never even knew him because he died shortly after I was born. Mom said he was a firefighter, and one night, one of the fires won.

Even now, as I trace my eyes slowly over my features, I can only see my mother, though she is now just a fuzzy image in my memory.

My cheeks are tinged pink as I meet my own eyes in the mirror, before I hesitantly trail them lower.

I take in my own skin, pink blush continuing all the way past my neck. I study the curve of my shoulders, the freckle I didn't know was on my collar, and the swell of my breasts. They stand erect with the chill air causing little bumps to sting my showing skin.

My gaze quickly flashes away, feeling embarrassed for looking. But then I drag my eyes back to look again, because I know it's stupid to have never studied my own body.

My nakedness is exposed for me to see in the fogged mirror, and it's smooth and flawless. It doesn't show the pain it had endured, or the bruising hits it's suffered.

It looks the way a body might be supposed to look.

I bring my hand up curiously, and gently touch the darker skin on my breast, and then lightly pinch it.

It doesn't feel any different than if I had pinched my arm. I don't understand the big deal about them; if anything, they've always just got in the way. And what is with men and grabbing breasts, squeezing them, pinching them?

What is the point of it?

I guess, with the short glimpse I had a while ago, Leah's were...kind of beautiful to look at. But even then, what's the point of ruining what might be nice to look at, with a discoloration that doesn't belong?

...

I sigh contently, basking in the rare sunlight filtering through the open window. My legs swing through the air, before bumping softly into the wooden cabinets below.

The marble countertop is warming underneath me and the house is a strange stilled quiet. The only sounds are my heels hitting wood and the rustle of the trees in the world outside.

There is a sudden short knock on the front door before it swings open, and a familiar smile is directed to me.

"Did you know that I'm in love?" I ask Leah when she pauses in the entranceway. Her eyes flash mischievously, and she takes deliberately slow steps toward me.

"Really?" She asks.

"Mhm, I absolutely love chocolate," I hum, sucking the remains of the sweet brown candy off my fingers.

I spread my legs as she caresses the cloth on my knees, so she can stand between them more comfortably.

She reaches past me and plucks a piece of candy from the wrapper and it disappears between her lips.

"I thought you've never been in love before," she teases.

"Well," I place my hands on her shoulders to hold her there, "now I have. Looks like you might have some competition."

Her teasing smile makes my entire body feel warm.

"Is that so?" Her fingers, so warm I can feel their heat through my jeans, trace small circles on my knees as she slowly tilts her head up towards me. We're about the same height in this position.

"Mhm."

The chocolate that I had claimed to love so much, tastes even better on her lips.

"Wait," I breathe, when I feel her start to pull away. "One more."

Leah immediately obliges, kissing me again. And then I ask for one more. And then again, and again, until we give up all pretenses that that is the last one.

I tentatively tease her bottom lip, still wanting more, and they immediately part.

She makes the strangest noise in the back of her throat.

I only pull away, reluctantly, when I realize that I've forgotten to breathe again. My head feels dizzy and there is that familiar pleasant flip-flopping in my belly.

I only open my eyes halfway and the quick fluttering of skin over her pulse mesmerizes me.

Hesitantly, I trace my fingers over her shoulders and collarbone, feeling the smooth ridges of every curve, and allow my eyes to wonder lower.

She's always wearing very little, just a tank top and very short shorts. She says that it's easier because it's less to take off if she has to change into Wolfe quickly.

I trail my fingers lower to rest over her heart, and it amazes me how heard its pounding.

"It's so fast," I whisper, and I can hear the wonder in my own voice.

Leah's breathing hitches, and the flutter under my fingers skips several thrums, causing me to smile.

Her nose bumps my chin before she is pressing her lips to mine firmly, demandingly. And it feels so good.

One finger, just the very tip, makes slow circles over her racing heart. Her skin is so warm, and smooth, and I find that I really like to touch her. I like the little noises she makes when we kiss; I like the little moan she makes when I hesitantly run my thumb over the rise of her breast, even though the sound and action embarrasses me.

Her hands slide up my thighs before cupping my butt, and pulling me into her. I gasp into her mouth, as I have to clutch her neck and hook my legs behind her to keep from falling.

The whimper in my throat is shocking as she carries me blindly to the couch.

My back hits the cushions first, and then her weight, lightly pressing our chests together as the kiss deepens even more.

My legs fall unhooked as the first stirrings of panic seep in.

Not even a fraction of her weight is on me, just a brushing of riding clothes and skin, but it suddenly feels like gravity is crushing me.

I feel the heat of a body between my legs, pressing against my sex, and then I hear a deep male voice.

"You have the most beautiful eyes."

"Take off your clothes."

"This is for your own good."

"Slut."

"Don't tell anyone."

"Sh sh shh, this will be our little secret."

"Don't scream-"

"No, stop it," I gasp, thrashing as hard as I can. The weight, the man, above me recoils as if I had hit him good. Maybe I can get away from this one.

"Stop it, please! Get the fuck off me you fucking pedophile!" I thrash some more, still feeling trapped. I roll sharply, and I fall from the bed, or couch, or wherever I am, and hit the wooden floor hard.

My breathing is coming in sharp panic-filled gasps as I scramble across the floor.

"S-Sam?"

The voice...it doesn't fit this scenario. It belongs to- why is she- I'm not actually-

"Leah?" I ask shakily as I look up at her position on the couch, still and looking as if her were struck. No, that's not the right word, she wolfs out whenever one of the guys hit her. She looks like she did when I yelled at her for touching me, only way worse with watery eyes and a horrified expression.

"Oh god," I gasp, curling my knees to my chest when I realize what I've done.

"Sam..." her voice wavers even worse than mine. "Have you... Has someone..." She takes a shaky breath. "Sam, has someone ever hurt you...?"

My eyes drop to my clenching hands. "A lot of people have-"

"No," there is a new steel in her voice, though it's somehow still gentle. "Has some touched you? Have you ever been raped?"

I flinch. "Oh god," I rasp again. What will she think of me now?

"Fuck," she whispers, scrambling off the couch to kneel in front of me. She briefly touches my cheek before thinking better of it and drawing back. "I thought...there were signs, and I suspected...but I never thought that could actually happen, not to you, not to my... When?" She asks so softly I could barely hear it.

"I was eight the first time it happened," my voice trembles as hard as my hands.

"The first time?" She croaks.

I shakily wipe my palms on my pants, secretly glad that she's not touching me right now. Other memories are just to close to the surface.

"I can't remember every man that's forced himself on me, or how many times. After the first few, it didn't seem to matter; I knew it was just going to happen again. I still fought as hard as I could, but I didn't get away very often." I close my eyes at the rumbling snarl Leah gives. "The homes that I went to... A lot of them weren't fostering me just because it was a good thing to do. I have pretty eyes," I smile ironically.

She gives I high-pitched whine that might come from wolf, and I look up just to check if she shifted. She didn't, but there are tears glassing in her eyes and her hands flutter helplessly over me.

She looks desperate to touch me, but after what she just learned, she's not sure that she should.

I reach out to brush my fingers against her cheek, and she leans into it. Tears I didn't know were gathering spill onto my cheek.

I lean forward and gently press my lips to hers, tasting the lingering chocolate and the added ingredient of salty tears.

"It's okay; I'm okay," I tell her, wondering if that's the problem, or if it's something else. Something I wouldn't be able to deal with.

"...can I hold you?" She sounds so uncertain. I nod.

No one has ever asked to touch me before; they just do it.

She scoots closer so she can comfortably wrap her arms around me, and lean me against her chest. My head fits perfectly in the crook of her neck.

"I love you Sam," she whispers, muscles tensing and relaxing like she's physically trying to keep herself from squeezing. It's makes me believe her words. "And I won't let anything like that happen to you ever again. I promise you that I will kill anyone that tries, and anyone that crosses my path that already has."

I relax into her at her words, trusting every word. She's a strong werewolf, and I know that she can follow through...as long as she never leaves me, or until it is times for the next Forster home.

For now though, I'm safe.

A/N: Well, damn... Now what?

More to come. Review!

~Silver~