"She turns me on. She makes it real. I have to apologize for the way I feel." - 'Sunspots' Nine Inch Nails

It was one of those days, where the sun was shining and the sky was clear but it was so bitterly cold that people still dressed up in their warmest jumpers. The wind still howled along, blowing rust coloured leaves into devil spirals along the worn footpaths.

She sat on the steps of the library, like always, reading another fantasy book with a well-loved but old cover. Beside her was a steaming takeaway mug, bearing the logo of some little know but brilliant coffee shop on the other side of town. The wind gleefully blew some leaves onto her pages. With irritation in her brown eyes, she flicked them away with one pale hand, before resettling her headphones around her ears and turning her attention back to her book.

I looked at her through my window, marvelling at her bravery to sit on those cold steps in this frigid weather. It made me wonder what her life might just be like, to drive her to such a place for reading.

Mind you, she'd always intrigued me. We ran in different circles at school, me with the musicians and artists, her with the geeks who we knew would change the world one day but still continued to secretly mock their supposed lack of social life.

What got me the most intrigued was that she was pretty. Unlike her stereotype, with their bottle thick lenses and bowl haircuts and zits, she was willowy and slender, with dark brown hair and eyes and slightly pink lips. Her dress sense was the same as any teenager (I noticed she had a thing for converse sneakers and slogan t-shirts, though).

I watched as one of those graceful hands turned the pages of her book and inwardly grinned to myself. My observing of her was becoming more and more stalker-ish.

But who wouldn't? With her slight build, height, beautiful eyes and hands and intelligence, she would drive anyone crazy.

"This is getting out of hand," Michael, my best friend once said to me. "If you like this girl so much, Holly, just ask her out or something…"

I scoffed at him, continually telling him that I wasn't interested in girls. My love of the local alternative population of men was well documented, to the point where I've been called loose but I honestly didn't care.

They were just for fun anyway.

But her…

I mused over the point Michael had. I wasn't romantically interested in her, at least not yet. I mean, given time, who knows what could happen…

What got to me was her complete disdain for what she was supposed to be and, for me…

Yeah, ok, it turned me on...

Just a little.

… Fine. A lot.

I chuckled to myself and turned back to my drawing, with my head tilted to the side. I had taken artistic liberty with the wings I added to the angel reading on the steps but other than that, it looked identical.

Stalker, I thought, amused.

Stretching, I turned my head to the side to watch her again. She was stretching out a cramp in her ribs, tilting her body awkwardly with a wince on her face. I laughed softly.

I wonder what it would be like to massage her body free of all stress

My mind was going to die.

With a groan, I got out of my chair and picked up my black blazer that was hanging on the back of my door. Shuffling my feet into a pair of slip-on sneakers with skulls on them, I grabbed my keys and a red and black scarf and headed out into the cold.

I didn't know where I was going, or what for. I just knew that I needed to walk, to cleanse my mind. I was female, she was female. I liked men, she was not a man. The logic was simple.

Who said that this was simple?

I snorted at my own thought process, seeing as it was focussed on my own self-destruction and continued to walk.

And again, my genius showed itself, because I had to walk past those very same steps that she sat on.

My feet skidded to a halt and I turned to look at her.

"Oh brilliant," I mentally cursed. "Now my body isn't obeying my commands. Thanks…"

She looked up when my feet skidded to their halt in her field of vision and pulled the headphones off, to rest around her neck. I tucked my hands into the pockets of my blazer and looked down at her, my body not listening to ANY of the signals from my brain telling it to move its sodding stupid arse.

Those chocolate eyes looked into mine with such a question, such a gentle prodding as to why I was even there, that I felt a blush slowly but shockingly rise up my cheeks.

And, wonders of all wonders, she spoke.


Her voice was unsure, slightly scared and a little trembly, but it made me immediately wonder what it would sound like when completely out of breath and gasping in pleasure…


I hate myself.

I swallowed.

"Hey. Sup?"

She ducked her head down and I again cursed myself mentally. Of course I'd intimidate her. I was the loose woman with the short black hair and multiple piercings. I half wanted to take her in my arms and show her I wasn't as rough around the edges as I looked.

"Nothing much. Just reading."

Again, her voice belayed her fear of someone like me.

She seemed so naïve… so innocent…

So delectable.


"Oh, sweet. What are you reading?"

"A book."

It was like squeezing blood from a stone.

"Yeah," I replied, dryly. "I noticed that."

She blushed and I had to fight the urge to bend down and kiss her. She blushed so prettily.

"So." I decided to throw her a bone. "What book are you reading?"

"The Bachman Books by Stephen King," she replied.


I knew nothing about books. It was a massive flaw of mine that I preferred to create than to enjoy other people's creations.

"Sorry, I'm not much of a reader."

She smiled suddenly in amusement, her face lighting up like a sunrise.

I was so taken aback by the sudden change that I raised an eyebrow and the smile skittered back into that small nervous face.

And once more, I berated myself.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to seem like a bitch," she apologised quickly, but I held a hand up.

"Hey, kid, it's all good. I didn't mean to intimidate you," I replied.

"Oh you don't intimidate me," she replied quickly. "I've seen you around school and I get the feeling you aren't as scary as they all make you out to be."

My lips quirked into a half-smile and I raised an eyebrow again.

If only you knew how scary I can be

"Nah, I'm not the worst of the worst. I mean, I have been called hedonistic but I reckon, why do something if not for your own want?"

The girl blinked.

"Hedonism? You know about that?"

"What? The fact I know a long word surprises you?" I snapped, suddenly annoyed.

"No, no…" her voice was quiet and scared at my sudden anger. "I just was thinking how amazing it was that someone around here actually knows about things like that."

Amazing, I thought. No 'cool'. Amazing.


"Yeah, well even though I don't read, I still like to learn and my philosophy teacher kept yabbering on about it in reference to certain behaviours, so I thought I'd find more out about it."

"Oh…" she replied quietly. "Ok…"

I looked at her, smiling again. She really was attractive.

Maybe there was something to what Michael said.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Bethany," she said, lips curling around the syllables in a rather… enticing way.


"Well, Bethany…" I tried the words on my own lips and liked what I found. "You seem to be out of that coffee of yours and I was just heading out, so would you like to continue this conversation in a nice café somewhere?"

She looked down at her takeaway cup in an embarrassed way.

"That would be nice… um… your name?"

I offered her a hand.


I pulled her to her feet and added a little extra in my mind.

Get used to my name. I want you to never forget it.

She smiled again at me and we both set off towards the coffee shop.

"Someday," I mentally sighed. "I'm going to have to apologize to her about how I feel…"

Bethany "She's here… she's talking to me… god… she's a sunspot… She's real… Hotter than the rest of the world… Hotter than hell…"

A/N: Hey all! FIRST EVER SLASH POSTED. Go easy but let me know. I have a longish slash I'm writing (or it's writing itself) that I was considering posting... Should I?