That's right, two in one day! I'm so proud of myself!

I really love this story so far...I think it has more thought than all my stories combined...what do you guys thing?

We've been here for a while, at this little white beach house on Tybee Island, Georgia. It was perfect, the backyard was a beach and the front yard had luscious green trees and a small garden.

Booth wouldn't let us leave until I was "better", until I stopped hurting myself. But I don't know how to be "better", and I don't think I want to be "better".

We left about two weeks ago, he came over unexpectedly one evening after work and caught me getting dressed. He saw the red scars and started crying, I didn't think he was the kind of guy who cried. I couldn't tell at first, his face was completely calm and stoic, but I saw his eyes glisten, and then there were tears. His face stayed the same, so calm, as he walked closer, but then his face changed. Suddenly he was angry, livid, "Why would you do this to yourself?, he spit the words dangerously. I didn't give him an answer; I just continued to get dressed.

He grabbed me and told me to pack my things, and he stood there and watched as I did as I was told. He didn't let me out of his sight.

Then he picked up my bags and piled them into his car.

We drove to his house and he held my hand as we walked inside, I sat on his bed while he shoved clothes and CDs and snacks into his suitcases.

We were going somewhere, I knew that, I just didn't care. I knew I would be safe with him, I always was, there was nothing to worry about, I let him take me away. I gave him the reigns, I'm not sure I could handle controlling them anyways.

We drove for a while, about 5 hours, when we finally got here. We drove up to a perfectly perfect white house, you could hear the waves crashing in the background and the smell of sea salt, flowers and fried food blew in the air. It was the perfect weather, and the perfect distance from the small board walk we past. It was one of three houses on the street, all different, but all the same. There were lights hanging from the trees in the front yard, and I could see the back porch a lit with lights as well.

Perfect.

I took a deep breath and smiled a little, turning to look at Booth, who was watching me take it all in.

"Why are we here?" I asked in a quiet voice, glancing down at the hand that's been attached to mine the whole way here, so tan and vibrant against my pale and cold one.

He sighed, too, "I just…I wanted to be with you…alone. So I could…help you, and try to fix whatever it is that is wrong," his thumb was caressing my hand as he spoke. "I come here whenever I'm upset about something, or need some time to myself," He was staring ahead of him, watching the waves." I bought this place about 10 years ago, and dedicated half of that time to fixing it up. It only helped the healing process, knowing that I made this place, and that it's all mine, and that it would never change unless I wanted it to." He turned to look at me, "I thought…maybe it could help you, too?" He sighed again, and moved close to me, "I don't know, what's going on, or how long it's been going on, but all I saw was bright red scars, and…" he moved closer, " I freaked, I thought to myself, 'I have to fix this,' and I immediately thought of this place, and how it made everything better for me. " He looked at me, emotions playing on his face, "I'm sorry for being so brash…I should have asked you…" He looked down at my mouth, his eyes flickering to mine before glancing back down, "I'm sorry, we can leave…"

Our eyes locked, and I shook my head, "No…I like it…" my voice was breathy and soft and so lifeless.

I knew I needed to be here, I don't know what will happen when we leave, or when we go inside, but I knew that I needed to be here, with him.

For the first time, his lips were on mine, I felt the softest pressure and then warmth suddenly spread through my body. I felt my cheeks heat up and heard my heartbeat in my ears. It was perfect. He pulled away and tugged on my hand, "Come on, let's go inside."

We walked up the walk way, between the small garden to the front door. The inside of the house was so welcoming, I needed a moment to take it all in.

All the furniture was either white or crème or a faded blue and yellow. The floors were mostly carpeted, except for the halls, which were incredibly shiny and wood. The kitchen and the living room were connected, and there was a huge window that was covered by a giant heavy looking white blind that I assumed lead to the back yard. There was a long hallway that lead to four rooms, and then around the corner to the den.

I fell in love with it that house, it changed me, and everything I thought about…everything.

The first night, I didn't go to sleep, I stayed outside, sat in a giant porch chair and snuggled up into a heavy comforter as I watched the waves.

Booth made us pasta and garlic bread, we ate in silence, his eyes never peeling off of me.

He kissed me again, just a soft peck, before taking my bags and showing me to my room, which was right across from his. He said I could sleep with him if I wanted, and I intended to take him up on that offer.

But even though my body was tired, my mind was not.

I stayed up thinking about Booths lips on mine, and how they felt and how when we kissed, I felt alive and normal and warm. I thought about the other people who have kissed me and how I didn't feel those things, I just felt lips. My old college professor who thought I was beautiful, Mike Carpenter, when we were fifteen after he said he wanted to marry me. Alice Livstun, while playing spin the bottle.

I thought about the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and how Booth planned to "help" me. I don't know if he could, but for some reason, I was going to let him try.

So, how do you feel about it?