Summary: You can’t stop love, whether it’s between two sinning angels or a brother and sister. You can't stop it . . . you can sure as hell try though.

This is my second Valentine’s Day one-shot/present to you guys! :D The theme of this is pretty much based off the saying “twins are lovers reborn”. So if you’re close minded about this or prejudice against this sort of love you probably shouldn’t be reading this.

Much love to Ck Ash for beta-ing this for me! You did such a beautiful job, thank you! –heartheart-

My lovely beta has pointed something out to me that I really didn’t even think about. I’m using a name I’ve used before for one of the twins and yes, I know, I know, I was going to go back and change it but if I did that then I would have missed some and you would see Erin randomly and be like WTF so I kept it, love it or hate it it’s your choice. XD ‘NJOY!

Italic writing is past events and thoughts.

Under the Moon

The sound of harsh breathing filled the room as two lithe bodies moved together, sweat glistening over their beautiful porcelain skin. The room was almost completely black, the shimmering moon offering little light. It smelled of sweat and sex; the only thing that could be heard were soft moans and a bed creaking as the two angels made love to each other. Long white feathered wings curled around them, acting like a make-shift curtain to protect them from prying eyes. They whispered each other’s names as they brought each other to completion. They arched their backs as wave after wave of pleasure washed over them.

They knew that if they were caught they’d be in trouble—even in great danger. For their love was a sin. And if they were caught, they’d no doubt be killed. Executed. They knew this, but they couldn’t stay away from each other. They needed each other; whenever they weren’t together they felt empty—hollow and in pain. And so they risked everything to be able to stay together.

Risked their lives.

They acted as if they didn’t know each other at all when other angels were around, but when the sun went down and the moon came up, they thoroughly loved each other. Protected by the darkness the night offered them.

The two beautiful angels lay side by side, gazing into each other’s eyes. No words were spoken; they weren’t needed. No other creature in the universe knew how to love like an angel; deeply and thoroughly. Having an angel’s love focused on you was truly a blessing. The male angel ran a hand through his lover’s long blond hair. The room smelled but neither of them cared; both angels were sated and in no hurry to move from their spot.

Just as they were drifting off into deep sleep a thudding noise sounded off softly in the distance. It sounded so far away and their hazy, sleep-deprived mindsdidn’t fully register it, didn’t realize that everything could end right there, that their days of loving each other in the shadows would be over.

The thudding got louder.

Thud, thud, thud . . .

Almost instinctively, the male angel held his love closer, his wings coming around her protectively.

THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD . . .

The door slammed open. The two angels were torn apart and everything they had grown to love and cherish was stolen from them.

Just . . .

Like . . .

That.

-

-

-

-

Sunlight peered in through the clear glass window and dimly lit the messy room. The lump under the covers on the bed shifted as the boy underneath woke from his deep slumber. It wasn’t the light that woke him though, more like the thudding on his bedroom door that was slowly driving him insane.

“Ian! Wake up, you need to pick up your sister!” a loud, deep voice came from the other side as the pounding got louder.

THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD.

The lump—Ian—groaned loudly, informing his father that he was awake and got the message. The pounding finally stopped. The covers were messily kicked off the bed, revealing a young man with dark hair. He squinted when the sunlight greeted him a good morning, covering his eyes with his hand and sighing.

He had dreamed again.

Every day of every week of every year he had that dream. He was far passed being freaked out by it; it had become a nightly ritual. He had even gone to see a therapist about it once—he had gotten one after his parents’ divorce when he was fourteen. The therapist didn’t know what to think of the recurring dream, and Ian wasn’t sure he wanted to dig further into the issue. Every morning he woke up with an aching pain settling deep within his chest. Some nights he would even wake up with tears rolling down his cheeks and he couldn’t stop it. He would cry silently in the nightwith only the moon as his audience. He wouldn’t sob or sniffle, just cry with no noise leaving evidence for prying ears.

Ian absently rubbed his chest as he sat up in bed, as if trying to sooth the ache that was already fading. He ran his free hand through messy dark brown locks and waited for the pain to fade away completely. His skin looked deathly pale as he wiped off some sweat from the nape of his neck, a single bead rolling down his cheek and to his jaw. He had high cheek bones, a strong, pointed jaw and full lips with a ring in the center of his bottom lip—just a silver loop with a ball. He looked very boyish, with a slim and athletic figure. His dark eyebrows furrowed together; gray eyes stared at the polished wooden floor as he thought of his sister.

Erin.

She was his twin, his other half—his better half.

Erin lived with their mother—who hated him—and he lived with his father—who loved him but fought and argued with him on almost a daily basis. To say Ian’s life was a living hell would be an understatement. He was an angst-filled eighteen-year-old in his last year of high school, but with an actual reason to be full of angst, apart from the dreams that left him writhing in agony.

His parents had gotten divorced when he was fourteen, his mother blaming it solely on him. She screamed at him, threw things at him, and completely alienated him from her side of the family. For no apparent reason they treated him as if he was some sort of disease. His father loved him, he knew that, but he would constantly yell at him and scold him. He did decently in school, got good grades—wasn’t an A student but he wasn’t failing anything either. He went out to parties, drank and smoked—had gotten high a few times too but he hadn’t done that since he was sixteen. And it wasn’t just screaming and scolding that his father did, but they would get into actual physical fights. However, Ian didn’t blame his father, or hate him; he was quite a handful and wasn’t making his job any easier. Most of the fist fights were started by Ian; he felt like he needed to get it all out somehow. Needless to say, it was very unhealthy.

But what was the worst was that he went through all of this alone.

He had no friends; he didn’t feel he could trust them. When he was younger, naive and foolish, he had friends. He trusted them and they, in turn, hurt him. Deeply. It left a permanent scar on his tattered heart. He had taken anti-depressants, but they just made him suicidal so he stopped. He even went to a help group once. His therapist had suggested it, but it had done nothing, and he quit both the group and seeing his therapist. Now, he just suffered in silence. He didn’t complain or cut himself, he just ignored it.

Ignored the pain.

Ignored the dreams.

With sluggish movements he took off his gray wife beater and tossed it to the side. He got up from his bed and went to his dresser, getting out a pair of blue jeans and a thin black sweater. He threw them on his bed and went to take a shower, wanting to curl back up in bed and go to sleep. It was Saturday and he was up at 9AM. Surely there had to be some law against that.

Ian had a part time job on the weekdays—rarely on the weekends—at a store and then school as well so he looked forward to his weekends. He used them to relax, something he never got to do during the weekdays, especially now that he was a senior. Even his weekends were being plagued with work, applying for colleges he wanted to get into—all art colleges. And then of course there was Erin. She came over to stay with them on the weekend, only once a month. He used to look forward to these days but now . . . now he didn’t know what he thought of them.

He loved his sister; he loved her more than anything and anyone else in the entire universe.

But that was the problem.

-

-

Ian sat back in the driver’s seat as he waited for his sister to get in. She was currently standing on the porch with her mother, grabbing her bag and hugging her one last time before running to Ian’s car with a black umbrella over her head to protect her from the pouring rain. It was April, the month where it rained the most; the streets were covered with puddles and so was the sidewalk. Ian was overly grateful for his car; he didn’t want to have to walk in that. He shared a love-hate relationship with rain; he loved how soothing it could be, listening to it tap against the window as he sat in his room, but he hated having to walk around in it and get wet.

“Hey,” Erin smiled as she climbed in his car. She leaned over the seat and pecked him on the cheek, making his heart sing and sting at the same time.

“Hey,” he mumbled a greeting back, eyes returning to the road. He started the car and drove off, watching in the rear view mirror as Mother-Dearest glared daggers at him with her arms crossed over her chest. Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder if she knew . . . and that maybe that was why she hated him so much.

Well, he supposed he’d never know.

As he drove, Erin rambled on and on about how life was going for her, even though they had only been apart for five days. Even so, Ian couldn’t wipe the small smile off his face as he listened to her.

-

-

Ian slid the glass door to their balcony shut, reaching into his pocket and getting out a cigarette. Placing it between his lips he flicked his lighter on and lit the end, shoving the lighter back in his pocket and taking a puff of the cigarette, the nicotine helping to relax him. He leaned forward, letting his forearms rest on the concrete in front of him as he looked up at the dark night sky. He could only vaguely hear his sister and father talking happily in the background and focused on the sound of her laugh; feeling a tug at his heart he rubbed over the spot as if trying to sooth the feeling away, but it was reluctant and stubborn, just like him.

What a selfish bastard I am . . . he couldn’t help but think to himself as he took another puff of his cigarette.

He was in love with his sister, such a sinful act. No one would accept it, he knew this, but he couldn’t help it. He tried to smother the feelings away, to hide them, but she found out. He had been terrified at first, even more so when she had kissed him. He tried to convince her that she didn’t love him in that way, that she was confused. But she was just as stubborn as he was; she wouldn’t budge, and now…now he was dragging her down to hell with him.

I deserve to be shot . . .

The noise in the background stopped—or Erin’s laughter did—and he figured that they were done for now. He stiffened when he heard the patio doors open and slide shut. He didn’t look back; he already knew who it was and his heart dropped to his feet.

Erin walked up to him, stood beside him and looked down at the busy streets, watching as the cars drove by.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” she said softly.

“Yeah, but it relaxes me so it’s okay.”

Erin turned to her twin and frowned, staring at him for a long while. Ian felt as if he were shrinking back from her intense stare, wanting to hide somewhere and protect her from himself. From his own cursed feelings that simply refused to leave him.

Dear God, please kill me now and get it over with . . .

“You know . . .” Erin whispered, moving closer to him and placing a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her, “if you’re really having trouble relaxing . . . I could always help you with that.” She batted her eyes at him innocently, a small smirk taking the place of her frown.

He snorted, looking away from her. “You shouldn’t say those things to your brother . . .”

“Oh, that’s just you. I was merely thinking about making you something good to eat, or maybe buying you some bubble bath stuff . . . maybe even a rubber ducky. You’re the one having dirty thoughts about your sister.”

Why is she torturing me?

She sighed and looked down at her hands on the concrete sadly. “Why do you always act as if this is wrong . . . as if . . . the very thought of what you feel is sick? Inhuman?”

“Because it is,” he hissed.

“Says who?” she insisted stubbornly.

“Says . . . everyone.” He ran a hand through his hair and flicked his cigarette off the balcony angrily.

“Everyone,” Erin snorted. “You mean society and bigots. People who have little compassion inside of them and can’t look past the labels they’ll put on us and realize that we’re human beings who get hurt just like they do. Everyone sins babe; they just pick and choose, deciding that some sins are worse than others, focusing on ours and ignoring their own.”

She leaned towards her brother and he stiffened in response.

“Dad might see,” he breathed, smelling her luscious scent and squeezing his eyes shut, willing his libido to calm down. She smelled so good, like a basket full of freesias.

So good.

“He’s taking a shower, since I already informed him that I’m gonna be hogging up the bathroom tomorrow morning.”

She kissed his arm gently, simply brushing her lips against his warm skin.

“How can you be so okay with this?” he asked, looking down at her.

“It’s called accepting what you can’t help. You should try it sometime.” She stopped kissing his arm and looked up at him with a longing look. “I missed you. I may sound like a clingy little girl with a big time brother complex but . . . I really missed you. You didn’t even call this week and ignored most of mine . . . and when you did pick up it was brief . . .”

“I’m sorry.” Really, he had missed her too.

That was the problem.

Couldn’t she see that?

She pressed her forehead against his arm and practically whimpered, “I love you.”

He closed his eyes. “I know . . .”

“So what’s wrong with that?”

He shook his head, not knowing how to answer.

“Do you love me, Ian?”

He sighed.

“Yes.”

He felt as though someone were choking him, right after lodging a baseball in his throat.

Erin sniffed, wiping at her eyes and Ian realized that she had been crying softly, the cool night wind blowing against the damp skin.

She smiled at him, leaned up and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. He fought back a small smile when she pulled back and ran a hand through his dark hair.

“It’s brown again . . . I’ll re-dye it for you tomorrow when dad’s at work.”

He nodded. “’Kay.”

Erin and Ian both dyed their hair, as if trying to make themselves look less like each other, so that if they ever went out they wouldn’t look like they were related. Ian dyed his hair black while Erin dyed hers a mahogany-red.

Without another word Erin turned around and went back in, leaving Ian outside to futilely attempt to sooth the pain.

-

-

-

-

The two sinning angels stood in what resembled an old-fashioned court room, awaiting their punishment. They were told their love was a sin, told again and again, and it tore them apart inside to have such a beautiful thing spit on and stomped on as if it was worth so little, if anything at all. A seraph was going to be their judge, a six-winged angel that was said to emanate such a bright light that it could blind one.

“Do you two understand why you’re here?” the six-winged angel asked.

“Because we fell in love,” the nameless female angel stated.

Despite belief, angels had no names.

They had no names.

No free will.

Nothing.

They were nothing.

“It is a sin for angels to love each other! This crime cannot go unpunished.”

The female angel shook her head, her lover standing still beside her, not knowing what to say or do. There was nothing he could do to fix this, nothing he could say to make it better; nothing would save his love from being punished with him. He wanted to scream he felt so helpless. His chest hurt and he didn’t even want to think about how much pain she was going through.

“What are you willing to do to repent?”

“I will not repent! We’ve done nothing wrong!” the female angel insisted.

“Then we have no choice . . .”

The female angel held in her breath.

The male angel shook with pain and fear for his love.

“Execution!”

A thousand needles seemed to pierce the male angel’s heart at once, making him sputter in shock.

“You’d kill us?” he asked in shock, his lover too stunnedto form a response.

“There is no choice.”

“This isn’t—”

“Since you claim to have no power over this, we are willing to give you a new life. A human life.”

“A . . . human life . . .” the female angel whispered. “We will be able to love there . . .” She knew of the humans, she knew that they were able to love. Such a precious gift . . . one that they often took for granted. But she would not.

“No. You will be born together, as siblings.”

“So even then . . . you refuse to let us . . .” the female angel whispered, heart-broken.

“This is your punishment for going against God’s will!”

And so they were executed and reborn in a world that wouldn’t accept their love any more than Heaven. The world was against their love, heaven was against their love . . .

Why?

-

-

-

-

Ian gasped, starting awake and covered in sweat. And again, silent tears rolled down his cheeks, the pain in his chest stronger than ever. That was a new dream, though it was every bit as painful as the ones before. Why did these dreams haunt him? They made him feel ill, nauseous every time he awoke, on the verge of tears. The dreams were mocking him, even in his dreams he couldn’t be with the one he loved, if that was him in the dream. What was wrong with his mind? Why . . . why, why, WHY?!

Why was the world so against him?

Why was everything so against him?

“Are you okay, Ian?”

He gasped, sitting up and looking down to see Erin kneeling down beside him, on the floor and looking up at him, her elbows on the mattress and her hands folded under her chin.

“Erin . . .”

She smiled. “Bad dream?”

He swallowed, the ache in his chest growing, threatening to overtake him.

“Yeah . . .”

“Me too.”

She climbed up on the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing him on the cheek and then laying her head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Ian.”

“I know . . .”

She buried her face in his neck. “Say you love me too.”

“Erin—”

“Please.”

He shuddered and then wrapped his arms around her. She shifted until she was seated on his lap. He kissed the top of her head lovingly and whispered, “I love you, Erin.”

She hummed and kissed at his neck.

“Show me . . . please . . .”

He mentally groaned.

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I deny her what she wants? I don’t want to hurt her; I don’t want to hurt her . . . but I . . .

“Erin . . .” he breathed and his mouth molded with hers. Their eyes slipped shut as they bathed in each other’s presence and love.

. . . but I . . .

Clothes were slipped off; both of them gasping when skin met skin.

. . . I love her so fucking much . . .

Ian laid her down underneath him, kissing her, moving against her, moving inside of her . . .

. . . loving her.

. . . I love you . . .

-

-

Erin had snuck back into her room before their father woke up. She had spent the night making muted love to Ian and had slept peacefully with a smile. Ian, however, couldn’t seem to fight the nightmares away. However, it helped to have Erin in bed with him, in his arms, holding him as he held her; he felt so secure like that. No matter what anyone said, he felt so happy when he was with her, so happy, and yet so pained.

When he went out to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich his father was already gone and his sister had just gotten out of the shower. With their intense night she smelled of sex and sweat, and he knew he probably did as well. But his father was gone, so he couldn’t find it in himself to care much at the moment. He’d shower before their father came home.

“Hey, ready to dye your hair?” Erin asked when she came out smelling fresh like lilacs and lavender, wearing a red tank top and black windbreakers.

“Yeah.”

Ian finished off his ham and cheese sandwich before sitting in a chair. Erin went to the hall closet and got out a towel so he didn’t stain his shirt. She put on the white gloves, let the onyx liquid pour onto Ian’s head, dug her fingers in his hair and mixed it with the black dye.

“So I’ve been thinking about applying to an art college,” Erin claimed, scrubbing at his head and making sure not to miss any spots.

“Sounds about right, it is your only talent,” he smirked and she shoved at his head with a laugh.

“Shut up! I have lots of talents!”

“I don’t think painting your nails and dying hair is considered a talent . . .” he mumbled.

“What about you? You’re going to go to an art school too, right?” she asked hopefully, wanting him to go to the same college as her.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

She frowned. “Oh . . . well . . . I guess college isn’t for everyone . . . Maybe I could—”

“Don’t start Erin, you’re going to college. You’ve got the grades and the skill to get in. I’m the family fuck up, not you. You still have a chance . . .”

Her frown deepened. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

He snorted, fighting back a whimper when her hands released themselves from his hair, not wanting to admit how good the contact felt.

She walked around him and sat on his lap, straddling him.

“I won’t let anyone talk badly about you, not even yourself,” she stated firmly and then slowly exhaled and leaned forward to peck him on the lips.

They sat together like that, staring into each other’s eyes longingly, thinking about the future that they would never be able to experience together, until Erin closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his, kissing at his lips now and then.

“I want to be with you . . .” she whispered, sounding like she was on the verge of tears.

“You can’t. Not like that.”

“Why . . . Why is everyone so cruel? Why can’t we just love each other and be left alone . . . We’re not hurting anyone . . .” She opened her eyes; they were glazed over with unshed tears. “I want to be married to you, maybe even adopt children. I won’t get pregnant, due to the problems that can occur there . . .” she smiled a little. “I’d get ‘fixed’ for you.”

He sighed. “Fixed . . . there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” he rubbed his nose against hers, “but I still don’t like the word used for you.”

“I hate this . . .”

“I know.”

“I love you . . .”

“I know.”

“Ian . . .”

He sighed, knowing what she wanted.

Assurance.

To be reminded.

To be told he loved her every single day.

“I love you too.”

They sat there, with their foreheads touching and their eyes closed, crying silently together.

-

-

Erin’s heart sank as she watched Ian drive away.

It was Sunday night and she was back home with her mother. She wouldn’t see Ian again until the next weekend. Until then, she would be with her mother going to her own school—away from him. She hated it. She felt so lonely without him, so . . . so frighteningly naked. Bare. Unprotected by the horrors life brought. She wanted to chase after his car, to jump inside and hold him tightly, but she would never be allowed that. High school was ending and so was their time together.

Soon, life would separate them.

And she would truly be alone.

She had already decided long ago that Ian was her one true love; there was never going to be anyone else for her. No one would love her the way he did. No one would be able to fill his spot in her heart.

It was impossible.

And she refused to ask that of anyone.

It would be a hallow love, and wouldn’t be fair to the other person, to be with someone when her heart belonged to someone else—her own twin brother of all people.

Life was too cruel . . .

“Erin,” she heard her mother call. “Come inside before you catch a cold.”

She rolled her eyes. It was night but it wasn’t that cold. Not cold enough to get sick.

“Yes mother,” she mumbled, too low for her mother to hear the bitterness laced into each word—each syllable.

Erin and her mother had never been on good terms, not since the divorce. Her mother blamed Ian for the divorce and didn’t hide her hatred for her own son. It sickened Erin. He was her son; she was supposed to love him no matter his faults! And in Erin’s eyes, he had no faults. She valued everything he was and thought it was a pity that their own mother did not see just how wonderful of a man he had become. When the divorce had become final she had wanted to live with her brother and father, but her mother had won custody over her, and practically handed Ian to their father—who in her opinion was a much better parent than she was.

“How was your weekend with your father?” her mother asked as soon as she got into the house, not even acknowledging Ian in her sentence.

“It was lovely; I spent a lot of time with Ian,” Erin smiled, walking past her mother and into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

“Ian . . . right. Well, you won’t have to put up with him much longer,” her mother stated gleefully. Erin’s grip on the water bottle tightened as she closed the fridge door.

“Oh?”

“You’re graduating this year. You won’t be obligated to spend time with that rat any longer.”

“He’s not a rat!” Erin shouted, whirling around to face her mother with angry eyes. “Don’t talk about him like that! He’s your SON!”

Her mother’s face twisted in disgust.

“It’s not something I’m proud of.”

“How can you say that?! He’s a wonderful man!”

“Man?” she scoffed. “He’s every bit a man as those transsexuals.”

“How dare you!”

Her mother waved her off. “You’re in a bad mood, not that I blame you, I would be too after being forced to spend a weekend there with him.”

“Don’t say that—I love spending time with Ian! I love hi—”

SLAP.

Erin stood shocked as a stinging pain spread along her cheek. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she looked back at her mother’s angry expression. Her lips parted slightly, her plump bottom lip quivering.

“Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that!”

Erin breathed out and reached up to cup her red cheek.

“A love between siblings, it’s disgusting! You’re going to go to hell; you’ll be damned for an eternity! Have you ever even thought about that?”

A sob escaped her throat.

“I don’t care . . . I want to be with him . . .”

SLAP.

“STOP IT!” Erin screamed, crying freely now as she was shoved back against the kitchen counter, dropping her water bottle and bringing her arms up to cover her face. “I’m not disgusting! I’m NOT!”

“I was trying to protect you—keeping you from him!”

Erin sunk to the floor.

She knew.

Her mother knew.

Knew of her love.

Knew that her two children were in love.

“You’re not protecting me,” she whispered, “you’re just deepening my pain . . . and even more unforgivable, his pain.”

“He is beyond saving, the disgusting little bastard; I regret the day I ever gave birth to him.”

“Don’t say that . . .”

“He’s a waste of air.”

“Stop it! Just stop it!” Erin stood back up and shoved her mother out of the way. “I hate you mother!” she cried and ran up to her room.

She slammed the door shut and collapsed on her bed, crying into the pillow.

No one had ever screamed such things in her face before. It was more painful than she ever would have imagined, even in her worst nightmares.

Reaching towards her nightstand she picked up her pink cell phone and pressed down on one.

“Hey it’s Ian, leave a message and if I feel like it, I’ll get back to you . . . eventually.”

Beep.

“Ian . . . I know you’re there . . . please pick up—please. I need you . . . I need you to tell me that you love me . . .”

She needed to be reassured.

Needed to be told that someone loved her, despite how completely fucked she was.

“Please Ian . . . please . . .” she continued to sob into the phone until eventually she heard him pick up with a sigh and mutter something that sounded a lot like “I’m so weak”.

“Ian,” she cried.

“Erin . . . what is it? Are you crying?” he sounded both shocked and worried.

“Mother . . . she . . . she knows. She knows about us . . . she just . . . I love you, Ian, please tell me . . .”

There was a long pause before he replied, “I love you too.”

“How much?”

“Too much.”

“I hate this, being away from you, being told I’m disgusting—”

“She said that to you?” This time he sounded both angry and shocked.

She nodded, even knowing he couldn’t see her.

“Ian . . . can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he said without hesitating.

“Meet me at the park? I want to see you, I want to touch you.”

“. . . I . . .” he sighed, sounding frustrated, obviously about not being able to turn her down, “I’ll be there.”

Click.

Erin shut her phone and sniffed, rubbing at her red, puffy eyes. She got up from the bed, thankful she didn’t take her shoes off, and opened her window, climbing down the ferns and immediately ran for the park.

There was barely anyone outside, which suited her just perfectly, as she hurried to the park. When she got there it was completely deserted and she sat on the wooden bench by the basketball court. When she saw Ian’s white car pull up along the curb she got up from the bench and ran over to him across the damp grass and met him more than halfway, pulling him into a hug.

Ian stood there by his car, surprised as his love cried against his chest.

“I hate this! I shouldn’t be ashamed of this!”

Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back, not knowing what else to do.

“I’m not ashamed of this! I’m not ashamed of loving you and I’m so, so, SO SICK of people telling me I should be!”

“I know . . .”

“I want to be with you, Ian, make it so I can be with you!”

He blinked. Not sure what she was asking of him.

“What?”

“Please, please, please, please!”

“I don’t know . . . what do you want?”

She buried her face in his chest again. “Just make it so we can be together; don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.” She lifted her face and kissed him, almost desperately. The kiss nearly broke his heart. So much pain, so much sadness and he couldn’t do anything.

And so he kissed her back, just as desperately, crushing her against him.

“I love you,” he breathed against her lips when they parted for air, “I love you, I love you, I love you . . .” he said again and again, not knowing how to make it better for her. She nodded against him, her lips brushing along his in the process from their closeness.

“I love you too Ian, so much.”

They kissed again.

And again and again.

The crickets chirping were drowned out by the smacking and sucking of their lips. It was as if they were trying to mold into each other—melt into each other, becoming one so they would never be separated. But then, if that happened, they wouldn’t be able to touch each other again, and that was just as bad.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ian confessed helplessly when they parted for air, both breathing heavily.

“I don’t care; just take me away somewhere, after High School.”

He nodded, unable to deny her anything at that point.

He could see her breaking and he would do everything in his power to keep her from falling apart.

Even if what he was doing was considered a sin.

He just loved her too much.

“I will.”

And they kissed again.

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Hats were thrown up in the air, people laughing and hugging their friends and family, taking quick pictures of them.

It was graduation day, the day Ian had been looking forward to.

Erin as well.

He had arranged everything. With the money from his job he managed to save up for two plane tickets to Chicago where he already had an apartment waiting for them. He was accepted into an art school, the same one that Erin had applied too. When they got there, they would change their names, give themselves new identities.

Not as siblings but as lovers.

He hugged his father who had a huge smile on his face.

“You made it,” he said, patting his son’s back.

“Surprise, surprise,” Ian chuckled, thinking how he would miss his father.

He was giving up everything he had come to care about for his sister.

But then, so was she.

Friends who knew they were related.

Family members who they cared for.

It was all being thrown away.

All so they could be together.

How simpler it would be if they didn’t have to throw anything away. How lucky those people were who fell in love with someone who they had no relation to.

Did they not understand how lucky they were?

He wanted to hit the ones who didn’t.

They, after all, didn’t have to throw anything away for their love.

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The airport was loud and crowded, completely littered with people in business suits and other attire. Erin was wearing a pair of simple blue jeans and a black t-shit with the logo for the band Him on it—a gift from Ian himself. While Ian wore black cargoes and a thin, very thin so he didn’t fry from the heat, white sweater with a loose collar, showing off his collar bone and the chain wrapped around his neck.

They got their tickets and boarded the plane, getting into their seats. Erin was practically jumping for joy and Ian couldn’t stop himself from smiling as she laced their fingers. For once, they didn’t worry about what the people around them would think.

They didn’t know them after all.

They were seen as lovers, not siblings; no one there viewed them as siblings. Erin was high off the feeling and so was Ian; they couldn’t wait to start a life in Chicago.

“I can’t believe I’m getting my own happily ever after,” she whispered gleefully.

He chuckled. “And so the princess fell in love with the prince—her brother? Hmm, for some reason, I don’t think that’ll sell.”

She stuck her tongue out childishly. “They just don’t know good romance.”

When the speaker came on and announced they were ready to take off Erin shuddered, something that did not go unnoticed by Ian. He looked at her with a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, her eyes wide and dilated. “I don’t know . . . I feel like spiders are crawling all over my skin . . .”

Ian smirked. “What, scared?”

“I guess so,” she laughed nervously and tried to force herself to relax. “I’ve never been on a plane before.”

“Neither have I, but I’m not shaking in my seat.” However, there was an uneasy feeling in his gut; he would never admit it though, especially not after just teasing Erin.

“Talk to me,” Erin said while trying to control her breathing.

“About what?”

“Anything, I need something to distract me.”

“Oh . . . okay . . . aaah, so, I was thinking, I don’t think I want to adopt.”

“Oh?”

“Nah, kids are annoying, can’t stand ‘em.”

“Ah ha, we’ll have to talk more on that . . .”

“It might not be good to adopt given our condition. They might not even let us you know.”

She frowned. “Way to bring me down stud.”

“I’m trying to be realistic.”

“Well be it on your own time, I’m having a mini-panic attack right now—AH!” she screamed as the plane began to shake, reaching out to grab at Ian’s arm. “Oh my God, what’s going on?!”

Ian was beginning to panic but tried his best to hide it, letting Erin hold onto his arm, clasping it to her chest as a voice on the speaker came on and informed them that they were going down. People began to panic, holding onto their loved ones as others tried to breathe air from the oxygen masks that fell before them.

Tears gathered in Erin’s eyes.

“No . . . not now . . . why now . . . ?”

Ian couldn’t speak.

No . . .

“We were so close!” Erin screamed out. “Why did this have to happen?! What the fuck did we do?!”

They held each other close as the plane went down at an alarming rate, promising death for all who had boarded.

If their love couldn’t be stopped, it’d be destroyed.

As the plane crashed and Erin’s and Ian’s lives were taken from them they looked into each other’s eyes and remembered . . .

They remembered EVERYTHING.

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fin

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Let's love under the moon . . .

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