The music from my headphones blares into my ears, making my eardrums pound and causing my sister to yell at me to lower the volume. I ignore the pain but do as I'm told and lower the volume of my iPod down a notch. I'm waiting for the plane impatiently when I feel my sister stir in her chair beside me. The sudden loss of body heat next to me means she's gotten up. Suddenly, I see her as she hugs my sister as if she hasn't seen said sister in years despite having spent the entire day before with her.

She smoothly ignores me, exchanging greetings with everyone else nearby. Fashionably late as always, she's the last to arrive. And it's just her luck to be able to grab a caramel latte with my sister just as the plane arrives.

It's typical of her to have gotten a window seat, she's always been the lucky one among us. Older, prettier, and with more confidence than my sister and I combined, it's no wonder why she has all the attention. It's always been that way since as far back as I can remember, she bats her long eyelashes and turns on those glittering brown eyes at you, and she can just about get you to do anything short of murder and grand theft auto.

Right now they're laughing at some inside joke or other as we find our seats and buckle up. I pretend to ignore them and act like I don't care what they're talking about. And it almost works, but then she just had to get up and brush past me as she languidly makes her way to the plane's lavatory. The scent of her body mist lingers after her, a kind of sweet but tangy smell that's just begging you to want more. She's chatting up an attractive male steward and he's giving her the look that easily says she's got him around her finger.

I grit my teeth as I watch him lean closer to her, whispering something in her ear, and my fingers clench as I see her smile seductively back. He glances around him to see if anyone's looking and I duck down further in my seat. When I look up again, it's to see the lavatory door close behind him.

I pop my knuckles in frustration and pent up anger. It's not hard to guess what they're doing in there, she's an attractive seventeen year old and he's an equally attractive guy. I instinctively increase the volume on my iPod, wincing at the loud bass and feeling my heart vibrate in my rib cage to the sound of the drums.

She emerges more than twenty minutes later, looking pristine albeit slightly flushed, and she makes her way back to her seat with a satisfied smirk while he gets out of the lavatory looking equally unruffled if not for the small smudge of raspberry lip gloss on the inside of his collar. It takes all my willpower not to get up and punch the guy but I restrain myself, knowing fully well that it would be exactly the kind of reaction she would love to see coming from me.

I pretend to sleep through the rest of the flight, seeing her face imprinted on the back of my eyelids all the while. She's not outright beautiful but there's something about her that just draws you in, like a Venus flytrap, and before you know it, you've gone too far in to ever get back out. She invites you in with her blithe smile, seduces you with her deep almost-black eyes and coerces you with her sweet velvet voice until you're eating out of the palm of her hand.

The flight is finally over and I rush to the carousel, eager to get my luggage and as far away from her as geographically possible. It's just my bad luck that I find myself standing across from her, laughing with my sister at her newest conquest. I roll my eyes but I can't help thinking about her.

I'm jealous, yes, I'm not too prideful to admit it. Venom washes through my mind like the toxin it is, poisoning my thoughts and igniting a white hot rage in me. Rage at her for all that she's done to me and for everything she is, rage at every guy she's kissed, seduced, or flirted with, rage at that idiotic steward who was gullible enough to fall for her, and rage at myself for loving her and being no different from every other guy she's met before.

I'm sick to want this incestuous relationship with her. I'm pathetic for pining after her this way. I'm crazy for falling in love with her in the first place.