Well, here it is. *drum roll* The hayloft scene. Sorry it took so long for me to get this one out. Life can sneack upp on you in alot of different ways. But before we get on with the show, how about a little

Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or, form own Spring Awakening *sigh* or any of its characters. *deeper sigh*

Now onto the the next chapter:

Penetration

Wendla Bergman walked slowly into the hayloft that Frau Gabor had mentioned to her at church today. She wanted to find Melchior, so that she could return his journal, or at least that's what she kept telling herself. She found Melchior Gabor pacing the room talking to himself. He seemed so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear her come in."So, here you are." She said. Melchior immediately gasped in surprise and sank down to the floor.

"Go away. Please." He said into his hands.

"There's a storm coming, you know. You can't sit sulking around in some hayloft." She said, approaching him.

"Out." He said loudly. Wendla paused, but then continued to creep forward.

"Everyone's at Church. Rehearsing for our Michaelmas chorale. I slipped out." She said, trying to make conversation.

"Yes. Well." Melchior said simply. Wendla searched for another subject.

"Your friend Moritz Stiefel is absent. Someone said he's been missing all day." She said, hoping to get more of a response.

"I expect he's had his fill of Michaelmas." Melchior said, not budging.

"Perhaps." She said as she frantically searched for another topic. "You know I have your journal." She said, as she looked down and realized what her hands were holding.

"You do?!" Melchior said, looking back at her.

"You left it. The other day. I confess, I tried reading part of it-" She said, glad to get a response.

"Just leave it. Please." Melchior said, cutting her off. Wendla knew she had mentioned a sore topic. But it was her job to remedy it.

"Melchior, I'm sorry about…what happened. Truly, I am. I understand why you'd be angry at me. I don't know what I was thinking-"

"Don't." Melchior said, his voice soft but seemed to fill the entire room. But Wendla wouldn't let it go.

"But how can I not-"

"Please." Melchior said, cutting her off once again."Please. Don't." Melchior looked at her for a moment then turned back to his hands. "We were confused. We were both just…"

But Wendla knew she had to make Melchior feel better. She blamed herself for his depression. "But it was my fault that-"

"Don't-please-no! It was me-all me. Something in me started, when I hit you." Melchior said, his voice steadily rising. Wendla saw her chance.

"Something in me, too."

"But I hurt you-"

"Yes, but still-"

"No more! My God. No more. Just-please." Melchior was shouting now, which is why Wendla was surprised when he softly said, "You should go."

Wendla was not about to give up on her friend this easily on something that was completely her fault. She was close enough that she decided to kneel down beside her downtrodden friend. "Won't you come out in the meadow now, Melchior? It's dark in here, and stuffy. We can run through the rain-get soaked to the skin-and not even care."

"Forgive me…" Melchior said so softly that Wendla could barely hear it. Wendla then grabbed Melchior's head and pulled it close to her breast.

"It was me. All me."

"I can hear your heart beat, Wendla." Melchior said before raising his head and touching his lips to hers. Wendla pulled back immediately.

"Oh Mechi-No." She said, shaking her head.

"No matter where I am, I hear it, beating…" Melchior said, hesitantly.

"And I hear yours." Wendla admitted. She had been thinking about Melchior ever since their forst meeting at the oak tree. That was all Melchior appeared to need as he pressed his lips against Wendla's for a deep kiss. Wendla was only stopped from joining him in his passion by the sound of her mother's voice, describing what would happen and what would come of that.

"Melchior…" She said, pushing him off. He only came back into the kiss with his entire body pressed into it this time. Wendla felt a shiver go down her spine as she felt Melchior's body heat become one with hers. She could feel her newly formed dress against his broad strong chest. She could feel her dress against his…"No-wait-no-" She said, trying to push him off.

"Wendla…" He said, begging at his point. But Wendla managed to maintain herself.

"Wait-stop. I can't. We're not supposed to-"

"What?" Melchior said, interrupting her. "Not supposed to what? Love? I don't know-is there such a thing? I hear your heart…I feel you, breathing-everything-the rain, the hay…Please. Please, Wendla." He pressed himself so that there was no space between there bodies now and kissed her violently.

"Melchi, no-it just-its…" Wendla said, barely managing to stop herself from letting him take her to be his.

"What? Sinful?" Melchior asked, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her a little.

"Yes!" Wendla shouted at him. She somehow managed to push him off of her. She then got to her feet and left without another word.

Wendla had started running through the forest that was outside the Gabor's hayloft. Run, and never come back. She ran for what seemed to her to be a long time, before she stopped and rested on a beech tree to catch her breath. It was then that she heard a feint noise that sounded like screaming from a distance. She jogged toward the noise until it became more clear and a figure seemed to match its noises. And not one she expected either.

"Ilse! Ilse!" The figure shouted into the night.

"Moritz Stiefel?"

Now comes the part where you either all love it or throw shoes at me. Please enter either a comment or a shoe in the review board so I can know if you guys what me to keep going. Suggestions are greatly appreciated. Hope to get out the next chapter in a week. *crosses fingers*