As odd as it sounded, his way of easily making her feel like an uncivilized barbarian in comparison to him caused shivers down her spine. He was an angel, a demon. He was a king, and a savior. She noticed how the side of his shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing a small patch of bare skin. She felt dirty, and invasive, but could not help but want the others to vanish just so she would have the courage to go to him. She would slip her hands under his shirt, gently yanking it up and off. She would straddle him, placing a finger over his protesting lips. A shake of her head before lowering her mouth to his neck for that first sweet taste of skin. She’d learn every inch by tender exploration, hands, mouth, eyes. She would slide her hand up his thigh to gently search for that one hard bulge of flesh so pathetically hidden by thin fabric. Not a challenge at all to defeat. ‘Make love to me.’ She’s whisper, praying with every word he’d oblige. And when he said yes, the trail of clothing. I told her about my grades. I poured my heart out to her, telling her about my fears that we were slipping apart, my fears that she was mad at me, my fears that she’d never want to see me again. I told her how much I loved her. It was a guilt-fueled letter, but I had to try to justify my actions (although I never told Gina what those actions were). Seeing it on paper didn’t make me feel any better, though.It was late when I finally finished my letter to her, and my hand was cramped from all the writing. My pencil had gone from practically new to about three inches long. (I’d sharpened it every time I’d been unsure or upset, and I’d nearly whittled it down to nothing.)I carefully folded the nine pages, and stuffed them into an envelope. As soon as I sealed it, I felt better. Unfortunately, the feeling was short lived. By the time I crawled into bed, I was feeling guilty about Amy.How could I be in love with two girls at once? I lay awake for a long time thinking about that one. Every.
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