AN: So, this chappy is carried on from the last. I'm glad you're liking it, though I do want to say a few things in response to the reviews. Teenage siblings do not normally shower together. This situation, though possible, is one in a million - Bella and Emmett had a very different upbringing during which they only basically had each other.

I have siblings myself and the most 'dodgy' circumstance I've had with them was when we went swimming and I had a one-piece costume on. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. It's swimming! So do not take this fic seriously please, because I am the writer and I am not taking it seriously either.

Disclaimer: No ownership over anything.

Instantly he fumbled for the shower door, pushing himself out clumsily in his attempt at a quick getaway. He slipped on the bathroom floor where it had acquired puddles from the still pouring showerhead, and without a second thought, Bella reached for him to help. With the angle he'd placed his foot down, his ankle wobbled and made him fall heavily to the floor. His sister, having managed to at least grab onto his bicep, tipped down with him. They landed awkwardly; Bella's feet still in the shower, Emmett's head between her small breasts, her knee leaning on his cock and his hand trapped beneath her flower. They panted in both shock and pain from the tumble they'd taken, their wet skin sticking and rubbing along each other's.

"Are you okay?" Bella asked worriedly whilst her brother's body became rigid and his eyes wide. His baby blues stared into her chocolaty browns when she sat up so she didn't suffocate him with her chest, straddling his toned stomach. Her breasts brushed against his nose as she rose, making it itch, and then dangled upon her frame carelessly.

Not natural, he thought desperately, willing his eyes to stay away from her breasts and privates. It was obvious that she saw nothing wrong with the situation – other than her brother stumbling, Emmett usually so aware of his surroundings – and why would she? This was how he raised her. Free to just be themselves with one another, no matter their bodies clothed or otherwise. It didn't use to matter.

He didn't use to get a hard on when he stared at her; he didn't use to closely watch the bullets of water drip down her soft skin, watch her supple lips form each and every gentle word, watch the way her figure seemed to just… mould into his, like it was meant to be that way.

Like it was natural.

Knowing that if she scooted back even an inch, his baby sister – his fourteen-year-old baby sister – would get a very clear idea of how horny he was right now, he reached for a towel on the drying rack and held it to his nether regions. Quickly putting a frown on his face, he tapped her arm; trying to be casual, though the skin-to-skin contact was made with obvious caution now. "My back hurts a bit. Up ya get."

In a flash she fumbled to hold onto the side of the shower, the spraying water pelting her hands again, and lifted herself up. Attempting to not stare at her flower and its intricate, luscious petals that he now had the perfect view of, he waited until her back was slightly turned and then stood, wrapping the towel firmly around his waist to hide his growing erection.

"Where exactly does it hurt?" she demanded softly, wanting to just help him. She moved toward him, but he backed away. Hurt flitted across her face and his heart clenched painfully.

"Just go enjoy the rest of your shower," he told her, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Go, before the water gets cold."

She looked hesitant, her sopping hair falling into her face when she twisted to glance at the shower then back at him. Her breasts jiggled with the movement too; he knew he needed to leave before he was caught staring. Because he was. Very blatantly.

"You know what?" He edged nearer to the door. "I'm just gonna head to bed. Rest my back a bit." He gave a strained smile, to which she looked at him blankly. Before she could ask anything though he had already whirled out the room, sprinting to shut his bedroom door and lean against it, breathing heavily.

He shook his head absentmindedly. What the fuck is wrong with me? he asked himself, before closing his eyes and sliding down to the ground, his back against his door.

Bella was left standing in the bathroom, the shower still running, with her watery gaze stuck to the open door. She didn't understand what had just happened. Emmett had never pulled away from her before; in fact, he normally initiated contact first. She knew he depended on her a lot – he was popular at school, though not by his own doing; people tended to gravitate towards him – and yet, he'd always ditch them to go find her.

She herself didn't have many friends (she was far too socially awkward) so she spent her time at school alone when he couldn't be with her. She knew she was dependant on him too. She needed his company, his cheerfulness to keep her working. His mere presence was what held her together.

The tears leaked down over her cheeks as she thought back to how he flinched away from her touch. It was clear he didn't want to be with her at the moment, but she just couldn't for the life of her understand why. I must have done something wrong, she thought sadly. It's all my fault.

Sitting herself down at the bottom of the shower, its sprays obscuring her vision, she curled in on herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly to the empty room. "I'm sorry for whatever I did."