Sweet Desire

I stared at the girl sitting beside me, my best friend. Every feature, every detail was so beautiful. I longed to touch her.. to comfort her... I wanted nothing more than to have her let me wipe her tears away, but she refused.

She wouldn't let me touch her. It frightened her to be touched by another girl, especially one that was known for having relationships with girls. I promised her, in spite of my not really knowing, that I would never.. never think of her that way. But now, as I sat there staring at her.. longing to touch her, I realized that I had done the one thing I promised her I wouldn't. I realized that I had fallen in love with her.

She cried there in front of me, coming to me in her time of need, her time of sorrow. I tried to comfort her without touching her, as her hair fell into her face. I found myself gently putting it behind her ear, and then I stroked her cheek in a loving, comforting way. I did not mean to touch her. I shouldn't have done that, I thought to myself. But the warmth of her skin was irresistible to me. I loved her, and she was in pain. My natural instinct was to want to comfort her, and so I did.

I rubbed her back, and her knee in a comforting way. Soon, without realizing it, I began to move my hand up her leg so slowly that it was barely noticeable. We sat alone by the lake under the night sky. No one to care and no one to notice we were gone.

I began to shake from trying to hold back the urges. I didn't want to lose my best friend. When I had forced myself to stop, she lay face down in the grass on her stomach and cried into her arms, unaware of what struggles I was going through. I patted her on the back and she rolled over to face the sky. I lay myself beside her, hunched up on my elbow.

I saw tears stream down her face. I leaned over her and wiped her tears away looking into her beautiful glistening blue eyes. She looked back at me. The expression on her face was one of deep sorrow and disgrace. Before I could stop myself I found that I had leaned over and was kissing her. I opened my eyes slightly and saw that her expression was one of shock, but then it softened, and she kissed me back.

I was overcome with immense pleasure, though whether it was from the kiss or from the fact that she'd ever even kiss me, I did not know. She put her arms around my neck by instinct and I slipped my hands into her soft brown hair, moving it away from her face. I was afraid to go any further for fear of her reaction.

I broke our kiss and we sat up. With her head against my chest, and I stroking her hair, I held her into the night. Now, I was sad and yet angry with myself. I had not wanted to break the warm embrace of the wonderful kiss, because of the fear that it may never happen again and because of the doubt that it ever had...