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Ana Parrish is a young woman from Britain who runs away to New York , without the permission of her parents, in an attempt to pursue her dream of becoming an artist. Reaching America , she becomes roommates with the older, subversive Giselle Holloway. Over the months their journey is full of trials and tribulations; difficulties of everyday life. Their differences pull them apart and bring them together, causing an overwhelming amount of emotion. But, perhaps, through all of life's innocent emotions, they can discover the most powerful emotion of all: love.


All of the characters in this story are strictly of my own creation. Although, they do share physical characteristics of two famous women, but that's just physicality, what I envisioned when I thought up this story (because I think they're both pretty sexy, hehe.) But no, these characters are NOT based off of the real people they resemble, not at all, actually. I do not write RPF's, they kind of disconcert me, actually, but anyway, I'll just leave it at that.


No violence whatsoever, and that's the way I like it. Although, there are a few curse words here and there, but nothing that would make a sailor blush.

Sexual Adventures:

Now that ' s an intriguing way of putting it! But yes, there is, and it can get quite intense between some of the characters (both male and female.) So, if you don't enjoy reading stories where two, consenting, young women fool around in an intimate manner, then veer away from here as quickly as humanly possible, or, as fast as your computer can take you.


- If any of you cannot LEGALLY drink then sorry, go away.

- If any of the above is not permitted where you live then, sorry but you can ' t read either (I suggest you move!)

- Or if this just down right makes you uncomfortable then leave, but if it does, why are you on this site anyway?


If any of you have comments or suggestions (perhaps requests?) feel free to email me all of that good stuff here: cxwinters@yahoo.com . A little note…if it's hate mail, you will be continuously bothered by an irritated little blonde bard, aka: ME . And trust this; I can get ANNOYING .



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Written by CXW


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A tall blonde stands on the edge of a sidewalk clutching a small suitcase, her face tilted upwards, gazing at the looming building before her. The large apartment complex appears grotesque, assuming a polite nature, and there doesn't seem to be a single glimmer of hope to be seen in her distraught surroundings. Rummaging in her pocket, the woman pulls out a small, tattered piece of paper, reading the address once more. Looking back and forth between the note and the building she realizes that she is, in fact, at the correct location. Shivering slightly at the revelation, the woman continues her silent interrogation. The bricks, as she had guessed were once red, are brown and cracking from the onslaught of dirt and storms. Broken glass litters across the dying grass; every second window boarded up with thin pieces of wood. In conclusion, the building, a home to an estimation of one hundred civilians, is a disturbing reminder of what she has gotten herself into.

Taking a leap of faith, she stumbles onto the sidewalk, getting closer to the apartment. Only to be pushed back to her previous position by a frazzled old woman wobbling down the street. Sighing in defeat, the blonde hops onto the street, presses her fingers into her pockets and proceeds down the road, leaving the disastrous building in her wake. But, slowly, she ceases her movements and turns back around, huffing in frustration. This is something she has to accomplish, something she needs to do, and a petty aesthetic notion will not hold her back.

Ana Parrish, the young blonde, was born and bred in the upscale section of London , England . Both of her parents were in the field of medicine, therefore not only cementing her fate as a stereotypical "rich girl", but also having the high demand of continuing in her family's footsteps. And although Ana excelled in the needed educational subjects that were a must for becoming a doctor, she never wanted to be that, never wanted to lead a life supplied by her mother's dreams. Ana's dream was to become an artist. Ever since she was a child, the blonde was absolutely enamoured with visual arts; content with staying in her room alone with her paints and canvases. Neither of her parent's could understand the immature obsession, and lightly brushed it off as a phase. But as each year passed the addiction only seemed to grow grander, needing to be fuelled more prominently; her father was disappointed, her mother disgusted. Though, their trivial thoughts meant nothing to the growing artist, and when the time came to apply for University Ana gathered her courage and applied to an art school in America . When her mother discovered what her daughter had done she was completely outraged, and still, the blonde never wavered from her passions. Finally, when she was notified of her acceptance, Ana rebelled against her family, causing a rift. Leaving her home, Ana applied for a student visa, and bought a one way ticket to New York . She had no idea where the sudden loss of submission had come from, but the young woman embraced it with fervour and never looked back once, until now. Watching the shadows play across the ominous building in which she must now call her home, Ana is not only frightened, but disgusted. But, as her mother's voice runs through her head, repeating a litany of "I told you so", her strength is resurrected, and she knows she must stay, whether to accomplish her dreams or prove her mother wrong; either will make her happy.

Jogging back down the street, she skids to a stop outside the apartment complex, as she eyes it reluctantly. Pulling her fair hair from her eyes, she forms her slender fingers into fists and heads towards the stairs. Cautiously, the woman maneuvers her body up the fragile entrance stairs, grimacing with each creak and groan. Reaching the landing, she smiles to herself in success, hoping the rest of the journey will be just as painless.

Reaching a hand forward, Ana slowly opens the doors and slides into the building. The darkness envelopes her, and she gives a soft gasp as the door slams shut behind her. Scrunching up her face at the smell of alcohol, and what seems to be urine, the blonde ascends the steps; each move full of strength and reassurance. Suddenly, the hallway is engulfed in a cacophony of yells and shrieks, and the woman's optimism vanishes from her disposition as she runs up the remaining stairs. When she has finally made it to the top floor, the blonde throws her body forward, dropping her luggage and gripping onto her knees while she begins to catch her breath. As her heart slowly begins beating at a normal rate, she lifts her eyes and reads the numbers on each, individual door. At the end of the hallway she notices a door that holds the apartment number that she has been looking for, a lump rises in her throat at the sight.

Staggering down the corridor, the blonde gazes around, paranoid, as her nerves are completely shot. The hallway is dank and dark, but, of course, her apartment would be subjected to the most ominous placement. Shaking her head slightly, Ana gives a soft knock on the door, waiting expectantly. After several minutes of silence, she gives the door a cynical gaze and presses her ear to the wood. All that is heard is slight rustling, as if the only entity within the apartment is the wind. Never removing her face from the door, she knocks once more, louder. Suddenly, the door bursts open, the force almost making the young woman topple over. Bracing her slender form against the door frame, Ana tries to stabilize herself as quickly as possible.

"Can I help you...?" a soft, feminine voice questions, wafting in an out of the blonde's coherence.

"Uh, yes...I--"

The young woman's voice fades as she takes in the sight of the woman before her. A statuesque beauty, with flowing dark brown waves and luminous azure eyes, stands in the doorway, clutching the door between her long, slender fingers. Her face is a cherubic masterpiece: a heart shaped countenance, large, rounded cheekbones, a button nose, and full, ruby red lips. But, instead of being small, like the childish angels, the woman is unusually tall with shapely curves and never ending legs. The blonde can barely catch her breath at the outstandingly exquisite sight in front of her. Perhaps it's her keen, artist's eye, but whatever it is, she has never seen anything more beautiful in all her life.

"Yes...?" the woman groans, annoyed.

"Oh, sorry, I--I, yes, you can help me. I'm here because...because I replied to the ad about a roommate..."

"Oh, yeah..." the brunette mumbles, pushing open the door inviting in the other woman.

Ana wanders into the apartment, amazed by the delicate, clean quality the room holds; a large improvement from the exterior. Smiling lightly, she takes in the atmosphere of the small living area and it's comfortable furniture and assortments. The walls are painted in a warm shade of brown, the white upholstered couch and chairs creating a perfect harmony of contrast. Slowly, pacing about the room, Ana brushes her fingers against the wood of a book shelf, and marvels over the strategically placed artwork. This girl, this beautiful girl, has great taste. The blonde feels content and comfortable in this space, she can even go as far as saying that she could imagine living within these walls for years to come. Perhaps her dream won't end so disastrously after all.



Hiding her awestruck gaze, Ana leans against a far wall and decides to indulge, and look over her roommate. The brunette is perched against a book shelf, her back arches against the mahogany frame. With each shift of weight, her simple, obsidian dress slides up her thighs, exposing the tight, pale flesh. Sucking in a deep breath, Ana continues gawking as she watches the older woman press a cigarette to her lips and inhale the deathly toxins. Lazily, the brunette's blue eyes meet Ana's green in a look a pure curiosity. They share this exchange for several moments before the older woman pushes herself away from the shelf and approaches the smaller woman. Kneeling down slightly, the woman places her face inches away from Ana's, an amused smile poised across her bold, cherubic features. The blonde can feel the heat of her roommate's body radiating against her's, and she shivers visibly. Gently, the brunette sets her middle finger beneath Ana's chin and presses her open mouth shut.

"You're staring." she whispers.

"I--I'm sorry..." the blonde stumbles, her British accent thickening as she looks towards the floor.

"Why?" the woman half giggles, looking down at her companion expectantly.

"You're--" breaking away from her initial thought of proclaiming the woman's extreme beauty, she ponders her mind for a better explanation. "I figured you would enlighten me on the rules..."

If the brunette's reaction is any consolation Ana has chosen the wrong thing to say. Pushing away from the blonde, the older woman stalks across the room and plops onto the couch, taking a puff of her cigarette. Regretting her words, Ana presses her head tightly against the wall, berating herself. When her self-accusations cease, she finds the woman staring at her openly. Running a hand through her dark waves, the woman licks her lips and begins speaking, in an annoyed manner.

"Listen. I'm not your mother, I'm not your friend, therefore, I don't give a damn about you." Ana feels a lump swell in her throat as the beautiful woman speaks. "You can never come home, if that's what you're into, and I couldn't care less, as long as your cheque is in my hand on the day rent is due."

Nodding her head, Ana looks away as she feels the hot tears begin to form within her eyes. How can someone so beautiful become someone with such an ugly attitude? The blonde would never ask, terrified of another tirade of painful words, but the question remains within her mind. Grabbing her suitcase, Ana turns toward the door and slowly begins to open it. Perhaps she should go home. Being chastised by her mother is far more comforting then being yelled at by a stranger.

Having the door half way open, the blonde feels a strong gust of wind as the door slams shut and a firm body presses itself against her back. A large, slender hand covers her's and she feels the person's chest rise and fall rapidly.

"I'm sorry..." whispers the brunette, her voice soft and sincere once again. Ana turns around, her body still tightly pressed against the door and the lithe, feminine body. "I've just been having a terrible day, I didn't mean to take it out on you. Could we start over?"

As the brunette's last words flutter from her lips Ana sees a flash of desperation within the blue orbs. Unable to stop smiling, she nods and receives the most luminous sight to befall her: the woman's smile. Her gorgeous face glows as her lips part, upturned, revealing rows of straight, white teeth. Everything that the brunette has said hurt the blonde irrevocably, but the simple smile seems to erase all of it. From then on Ana will do anything to see that look of sheer happiness on her roommate's face.

"I'm, Ana...Ana Parrish." the blonde declares, thrusting her hand in for a shake, but realizing their fingers are already intertwined.

"Giselle Holloway."

The two women stare at each other, openly, for several minutes. Bodies still touching, breaths mingling, and fingers playing over one another. Ana is confused and aroused all at once. She has just met this woman, Giselle, and she feels more than willing to let the brunette capture her body and do naughty, unspeakable things to her. The blonde has always prided herself on her purity, her innocence, in personality and intimacy, but this stranger causes an erratic awakening of her erotic senses that the helpless girl can't seem to fathom. Perhaps it is the way Giselle presents herself to the world; provocatively seductive, and she knows it, she holds that power knowingly in her palm. The brunette has an electric aura, a subversive nature that seems not only addictive to Ana's naivety, but it proves to the young blonde that there is more to the world then academics and rules. A world drenched in passion and sexuality, a notion that, before meeting Giselle, was oblivious in Ana's meek sense of self and placement. And although the feelings and sensations that run through Ana's bones are the ultimatum of pure bliss, the closest to ecstasy the blonde has ever achieved, she knows it is wrong, immoral. Feeling this attracted to a stranger, to a woman. Ana needs to get away.

Smiling meekly, she slips away from the tantalizing body, disgusted with herself for having the terrible thoughts spinning within her mind. Ana needs to get away from the intensity, the tension, but at the same time she wants to be overwhelmed by it, seduced by it. Running both of her hands through her blonde hair, roughly, she sits on the chair, feeling the cool blue eyes follow her the entire way. Giselle's hands remain, braced, against the door, her nails seemingly digging into the wood. Her head is cocked to the side, her eyes slyly caressing Ana's body with their gaze. But, as quickly as the sexual frustration has accumulated, it has faded as the sapphire eyes flicker to the floor, emerald sliding shut.



Days and weeks have passed since Ana and Giselle's first meeting, and since then they both, slowly, fell into a mutual compatibility of everyday life. Once a week, on Sunday, they put their plans aside and work together cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. On week nights, while Ana has classes, the brunette makes sure to keep her evenings quiet so as not to disrupt the blonde's study hours. And, throughout all of their individual complexities they somehow manage to lead their lives together, in the tiny apartment, quite nicely; working together in harmony and comfort. But, even though everything is at ease, things are most definitely not perfect. Giselle berates Ana constantly for her lack of spontaneity and her overwhelming amount of innocence. Ana, on the other hand, hates that her roommate drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney, and refuses to act like an adult, even though she is twenty five years old. The blonde dislikes these things, but never mentions them simply because she is terrified of the brunette's reaction. But, there is one thing she does hint her distaste for, and that is the male company that Giselle frequently has over; a different man every night. And, though this generally wouldn't bother Ana, it does, greatly. Perhaps it is the degrading way that the brunette is willing to give herself to any man who asks, or maybe the blonde is merely worried for her roommate. Either way, it makes her feel completely uncomfortable.

The early morning sunlight streaks in through the dusty window, casting a shimmering glow throughout the small bedroom. Ana lays in her bed, her slender frame tangled in the messy sheets, mulling over her recent living arrangements with Giselle. Lazily, she twirls her fingers through her golden hair, trying to remember all of the gentlemen visitors'' names; their faces. It is an outrageous number, and seems as though they all blur together, except one. Mark. He is the most recent of the brunette's lover's and the longest. To an onlooker, it would seem that Giselle has finally found a man she is willing to commit to, but to Ana, who knows all of the brunette's sexual secrets, it is just another ruse. He is married. A devoted husband and father, and the blonde knows that he would never give up his family for Giselle, even if she is one of the most beautiful women around. This thought makes Ana pout, a sympathetic veil cloaking her; it is disheartening to watch a woman give herself completely to a man who not only uses her for his own carnal impulses, but lies, vehemently, to her. Sitting up in her bed, Ana cradles her head in her hands and wills her roommate's business from her mind.

A loud knocking sound echoes throughout the apartment. The noise makes Ana jump, and she slithers out of bed, opening her bedroom door a crack. Looking out into the front room she waits for either the pounding to stop, or for Giselle to answer. Eventually, after several moments, the brunette stumbles out of her bedroom, in only her underwear; typical Giselle, and goes to the door. Opening the wooden entry, the doorway is filled with the vision of a tall, dark-haired man. Mark. His hair is erratic, his sculpted features covered in stubble. He looks terrible, but Giselle doesn't seem to mind, and quickly jumps into his arms, wrapping her long, bare legs around his waist. Struggling from the surprise, Mark trips into the apartment, closing the door in the process. Placing his hands on her hips he pulls the woman off of him and begins pacing around the entry.

"Giselle..." he starts, his voice solid. "We need to talk."

"What's wrong, baby?" She questions, running her hands up his arms.

"Would you stop that!" He spits, almost disgusted.

Pained, Giselle flinches, and slowly steps away from him, giving the man space. Running his hands through his dishevelled hair, Mark begins pacing once again, obviously stricken by something. He turns around several times, seeming as though he is going to say something, but words never come. Ana's eyes watch both of them closely, feeling bile rise in throat as she predicts what may transpire.

"Look, Giselle, this has been fun...but you can't have a relationship solely based on fun."

The brunette's face becomes grave, her blue eyes darken as they narrowed.

"It's about her, isn't it?" She questions, her voice deepens with anger. "It's always about her..."

"She's my wife!" Mark cries, thrusting his arms out trying to get his point across visually. "I love her..."

"If you love her so Goddamn much..." Giselle begins, poking the man in the chest with her finger, "...then why do you need me?"

"I don't." He declares stoically. "At least not anymore."

The brunette's face drops momentarily, her azure eyes growing shiny as tears begin to form. Shaking her head, she begins to laugh, an alternative to crying. But just as quickly as the cold laughter has begun, it vanishes as Giselle's face contorts into a sorrowful grimace. Ana gazes through the door, holding her breath; it is extremely hard for her to see such a strong woman reduced to nothing but a piece of trash. Putting her thoughts behind her, the blonde watches as Giselle stands still, her arms wrap around her body protectively. And then, it happens. Slowly at first, but the transformation is inevitable. It is the brunette's usual electra-complex: anger. Ana watches as Giselle's fingers press deeply into her palms, forming fists. Her mouth falls open as she watches the display.

"No. No! I'm not letting you do this!" Giselle yells, her voice cracking. "I won't..."

"You have no choice, Giselle." Mark interrupts, reaching for the door. "I have no need for you now; we're over."

"How can you be so cruel!?" The brunette shrieks, pushing the large man roughly against the door. Mark barely flinches.

"Look, Giselle..." he starts, a vicious smile placed across his handsome face. "You're a good fuck, but that's all you're good for."

Once the hard, malicious words fill the air Mark swings open the door and leaves. Slamming the door behind him. Ana slowly opens her bedroom door completely, her green eyes never leaving Giselle. The blonde looks on as her roommate slides down the wall she's leaning against and falls onto the floor in a pile of limbs. Her lithe frame shakes violently with sobs and dark waves of hair mask her face from the world. Feeling a large lump form in her throat, Ana tip-toes out of hiding, and approaches Giselle's slumped body. Kneeling down, the blonde runs her fingers gingerly over the broken woman's hair. Feeling the slight touch, Giselle's tear-streaked face tilts up, her red, puffy eyes glare at Ana angrily. Reaching out once more, the blonde's hand is smacked away and the brunette buries deeper into the wall.

"Go away..." she croaks, brushing the moisture from her cheeks.

Ignoring her plea, Ana strokes Giselle's hair once more in an attempt to comfort her. Help her to realize that she will always be here for her. But the brunette only gets angry and aggressively pushes Ana away, making her tumble to the floor, shell shocked.

"Go away!" Giselle roars, cuddling into herself. "I don't need your sympathy."

"No." Ana says simply, crawling across the floor, sitting beside the brunette. "You're hurting, and even though you try to hide it beneath anger it won't help the pain..." The blonde whispers, gazing at the crying woman. "You don't need to put up a front. You don't need to hide from me."

Giselle looks up at Ana, her eyes glassy with un-wept tears. Giving her a cynical gaze, she fidgets in her spot; in all her years, Giselle has never had someone who desperately, and stubbornly tried to help her. She never had someone who actually cared for her. The revelation reverberates throughout her mind and the brunette feels her breath hitch in her chest. With the blink of her blue eyes, Giselle's walls fall down, and she crumples into Ana's waiting arms. Her body wracks with sobs, her voice cracks with whispered sadness, but the blonde continues to hold onto her, stroking her back, wiping away her tears, and most of all just being there for her.

"I'll never leave you..." Ana whispers into the dark hair, nuzzling her cheek against Giselle's head.

Hours pass by. Hours filled with tears, comfort, and promises. Giselle's head lays, nestled, on Ana's lap, her body curved, tightly, against the blonde's. Looking down, Ana watches as the brunette sleeps in her arms, finally content. Yawning soundlessly, the younger woman raises her arms, lifting the sleeping head from her lap. Standing, Ana gently places her hands beneath Giselle's body, and lifts her into her arms. Shocked by her own strength, the blonde lets out a small giggle, and continues to carry the sleeping woman into her bedroom. Tightening her grip, Ana feels tingles run up the length of her spine as Giselle wraps her arms loosely around her neck. Smiling, the blonde enters her roommate's bedroom, and gently sets her on the mattress. Removing her hands from the warm, bare skin, Ana moves about the room, collecting blankets and covering the sleeping woman.

After Giselle is in her bed, wrapped in blankets, and breathing easy, Ana watches for a couple moments, then turns to leave. Before she can get far, slender fingers wrap around her arm, pulling her back. Turning around, the blonde sits on the edge of the bed and gently cups the brunette's cheek. Sapphire eyes flicker open and stare at her intently.

"Thank you..." Giselle whispers, placing her hand on top of Ana's, "...for being here for me."

Ana simply nods and brushes her thumb errantly across the brunette's cheek. Standing, she kneels over and presses her lips to Giselle's forehead, eliciting a small smile, and contented sigh from the woman. Taking her eyes off of the brunette, Ana walks out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. With the click of the door, Ana's mind becomes filled with thoughts. Thoughts about what has just transpired, and the woman who had fallen asleep on her lap. The blonde knows that she has a sympathetic nature. She also knows that her reaction was due to a large portion of sympathy. But that isn't solely what she is feeling towards Giselle, she knows there is something more. Ana can't put her finger on it, but their dynamic is far too explosive for an explanation of mere sympathy.



"What are you doing?"

Ana turns away from her canvas, brush in hand, and colourful paint speckles coat her cheeks. Looking past her painting she sees Giselle leaning against the door frame, wearing a white, silk slip, a cigarette dangling from her long fingers. The blonde guesses that her roommate has just escorted her overnight guest out of the house, finally. Ana thinks it odd that Giselle has moved on so quickly from Mark, especially remembering her emotional distress; but perhaps it is her attempt to try and cope?

Smiling lightly, the brunette makes her way into the bedroom, tangled, dark waves bob along her shoulders with the movement of her hips. Giselle plops down on the comfortably unmade bed and cuddles into the sheets. Ana watches her and laughs lightly, taking a sip from her coffee as she pushes her stool away from the easel.

"I'm painting...for school." She says, around drinks.

"Oh...?" Giselle asks, sitting up to look at the canvas, the half-finished picture shocks her, slightly. "Oh!"

The thick, matted canvas is heaped with acrylic paint, but the assortment of colors is not what shocked the brunette. In the middle of the canvas is a woman leaning against a wall. Her right arm is lifted, pressed against the back of her neck for support, the other sits gently on her abdomen. Aside from an unpainted blanket that floods around her feet, the woman is completely nude. Her breasts softly sit just above the woman's left arm, the highlights and shading are in all the correct places. The woman is utterly realistic, and the display makes the taller woman lose her breath. But, that does not veer away from the initial burst of shock that hit Giselle when she first took notice of the painting. It surprises Giselle simply because she associates this piece of artwork with the girl sitting before her; the innocent, naive, sometimes prudish, Ana. Peering away from the beautiful image, the brunette turns to the blonde, touching her hand lightly in the process.

"It's beautiful...really."

"Thank you."

"Her body; the position...it's so..." pausing for the right word, while placing a finger against her lips, "...erotic, don't you think?"

"Well..." taking a deep breath, Ana feels the blood rush to her cheeks, "...that's the point."

Giselle looks the young woman over slowly, agonizingly slow. Her blue eyes capture every detail: the green eyes flickering to the floor, the redness on her cheeks from blushing, single threads of golden hair that have fallen into her face. She notices all of it. Smirking lightly, she stands, and walks behind Ana, her fingers brush up the blonde's arm as she goes. Gently, she places her thin arms across the other woman's shoulder's in a loose embrace. Gazing at the painting once more, Giselle licks her lips and leans forward, barely moving.

"How did you capture her so realistically?" the brunette prods, stroking her fingers across Ana's collarbones. "Did you have a model?"

"N-no..." stutters the stricken blonde. "That's why there are s-some mistakes with the l-lighting."

"That just won't do, will it...?" Giselle purrs, leaning in even further towards the other woman; her moist lips brush across Ana's ear so she can whisper. "I could be your model..."

The blonde's mouth parts, slightly, as she takes a deep breath. The combination of touches and words are having a radical affect on her body, and she can't comprehend how the situation she's in started. Biting her lip, she slowly turns towards the brunette, their mouths a mere inch apart. Ana searches the sapphire depths for any sign of a joke, a kidding manner, but all she finds is an excited sparkle. Before she can reply, Giselle prances across the room, shuts the door and turns back to the blonde, a mischievous grin floating across her lips. Ana gasps as she watches the tall woman's hands flutter to the hem of her slip and gently pulls it over her head. Green eyes graze across the newly exposed flesh. Long, shapely legs that hold a triangle of dark curls at the apex of her thighs, a pale, taut abdomen that ripples with each movement, a swan-like neck, and that beautifully familiar face. Smiling nervously, Ana averts her eyes when she notices Giselle has been watching her. Silence has now descended upon the room, each woman lost in their own thoughts. But, just as quickly as the quiet has arisen, it is broken by a soft voice from a corner of the bedroom.

"Like this...?" Giselle questions, almost innocently.

Emerald eyes flicker back over towards the door where the brunette stands. Her left arm is lifted, placed behind her head, and her right sits gently on her thigh. Everything is wrong. Shaking her head slowly, Ana moves around in her seat and tries to point out the brunette's errors in position. The meagre hand gestures fail, and Giselle seems to become distressed by her continuous mistakes.

"Just...just show me. " she pleads, slumping against the door.


Rising from her stool, Ana sets her bare feet on the carpet and begins to walk, practically tip-toeing, across the room. Her eyes remain glued to the floor, terrified to capture the image of the naked women in her vision. Her reaction will be deadly. Taking deep, steadying, breaths, the blonde reaches her destination and remains still for several seconds. The sensation of someone staring at her makes her body shiver, and Ana quickly tilts her head up, gazing into Giselle's eyes. Swallowing the saliva in her mouth, she shakes away her blatant discomfort, and slowly reaches toward the brunette's body. Taking her left arm in her hands, Ana moves it from it's prior position and places it on Giselle's stomach. Fire wells up in her veins when her fingers flutter across the burning flesh, and ignite further when she feels the lithe frame shiver, the brunette's body leans into her touch. Pulling her hand away quickly, she looks up into the countenance of her 'model'; her eyes have fluttered shut, and her mouth is placed in a soft, satisfied smile.

"Don't be afraid." Giselle whispers, her body slouching against the door slightly. "You can touch me..."

Ana nods, even though she knows that the woman can not see her, but her tongue is thick in her mouth, and speaking is out of the question. Moving slowly, she takes the right arm in between her fingers, and swiftly moves it behind the woman's neck, the blonde's fingers tangle gently in the dark waves. Softly, she caresses the curls lightly as she moves her hand away once again. Taking a small step back she examines the woman's position; something is still wrong. Chewing on her lip, Ana finally discovers what it is. Stepping back towards Giselle, she hesitantly places her palms against the soft skin of her hips, thrusting them forward, gently. Running her hands up the sides of the brunette, the feather light touches illict a breathless sigh from the woman. Placing her hands higher, Ana pulls Giselle's shoulders back an inch, against the wood, and then releases her grip. Only one more correction. Sucking in a breath, the blonde's fingers cup the taller woman's face. The skin of her cheeks are silken and warm, and Ana can't help but brush them softly with her fingers. The innocent graze of hand on flesh causes Giselle's eyes to flutter open, the blue orbs are much darker than earlier. Smiling lightly, Ana tilts her roommate's head to the side, her smile growing wider as she realizes she has finally captured the correct position.

"Perfect..." She breaths, turning away from her model.

Back at her seat, Ana sits down in front of her canvas and lifts her paintbrush from it's place. With an insistent urge that she has never felt before, the blonde begins to paint feverishly. Her hands move in sequence, stroke for stroke, the movement a blur of digits and color. Mere moments have passed and the green eyes can already see the improvements. Ana can't help but smile each time she switches her gaze back to her model. There is something about Giselle that pulls a force within her, igniting a fire that Ana never knew existed. At first, it had terrified her, but now, it seems to solidify her, and her art. She has never been more inspired in her life.



Midnight thrums through the quiet New York town, a settlement of quietness and comfort. But, at the edge of town, in a run down apartment complex, a lone girl sits in a dimly lit room. An easel and blank canvas sit before her, but she is distracted and not in the mood to begin a painting. Her blonde hair scatters about her head like a disorganized halo, her green eyes peer cynically into the room outside of the one in which she sits. She is on her fifth glass of red wine and the effects of the alcohol are becoming inevitable, the openness of emotion sketched across her face. Languidly, she dips her forefinger into the goblet, and slowly traces her lips with the crimson substance as she looks on. The blonde's actions are beyond her, the only entity she can capture accurately, within her toxin addled mind, is the couple in the room she is staring into. The woman's veins constrict, her blood scalds her entire body into submission, she knows she should not watch, the pain is far too grand, but her eyes never waver. Not once.

A tall brunette sits, slumped, in a fluffy, white chair. Her head thrown back exposing her long, pale neck to her lover. Her gentlemen friend kneels on the floor in front of her, his large palm presses tightly against her bare breast, the other slides further, and further up her thigh. His lips lick and suck across her gullet, the sensations making the woman moan in sheer pleasure. The blonde grimaces as she watches the onslaught of intimate activity. Her fingers clench the wine glass in her hand as she watches the man's fingers disappear between his and the brunette's body. She cannot take this punishment any further, the scene playing before her is a knife slicing deeply into her chest. Cradling her head in her hands, she peers between her fingers at the couple as they continue their sexual ministrations.

Jealousy. It isn't the first time Ana has ever felt this emotion, but it is the first time she has decided to acknowledge it. Initially she had tried to brush it off as disgust, displeasure, anything but the inevitable. But it is true, she is jealous. Jealous of the men who has the pleasure of pressing their hands against Giselle's skin. Making her writhe beneath them in passion. Ana wants that, she wants to be the person to caress her roommate, the person to make her moan and scream in sheer ecstasy. And as the cries of pleasure waft through the small apartment, the young blonde feels angry tears well up in her eyes, slowly spilling out across her cheek. Brushing them away roughly she downs the rest of her wine and throws the glass to the floor, hoping it will smash. It doesn't. It merely rolls dully across the carpet. Disappointed, Ana watches as the dribbles of crimson fluid dot the floor in a random pattern. But the distraction only lasts a single moment, as the jealous woman is ripped from her focus on the wine glass when she hears Giselle's soft voice drift into her room.

"I'm gonna cum..." she moans, her voice thickly laced with lust.

Flicking her eyes back to the living room, Ana watches as the brunette's firm body arches into the man's touch; nimble fingers bringing her on the way to a climax. Her head is thrown back, dark ringlets cascade across her rippling spine, mouth slightly agape, and her nails dig into the velvety upholstery. The blonde's jealousy is erased, momentarily, as she is taken aback by her roommate's breathtaking beauty. Everything about her is perfect, how could one not succumb to her temptation and lust after such a creature? Ana knows not how anyone could overlook Giselle, but what she does know is that this woman is the main thought within her mind throughout the day. The ray of sunshine in a never ending downpour of rain. A rose in a garden of weeds. Anything of extreme beauty that thrives within the world could be compared to that of Giselle. Perhaps that is why Ana is in love with her. Wait. Love? The blonde's eyes widen in realization as the notion reverberates within her cerebrum. The lust, the passion, the jealousy; it all calculates to one answer: Ana Parrish is not only enamoured by Giselle, she has fallen completely, and recklessly in love with her. Taking a deep, shaking breath, the blonde's green eyes dilate at the revelation. A smile ignites across her supple lips, but is quickly transformed into a sneer as she focuses back onto the couple's love making.

The brunette's breathing becomes harder, raspier, and her cries are growing shrill and loud as the gentleman's fingers bring her closer, and closer to the inevitable edge. Suddenly, Giselle's head snaps up, and without warning, her eyes catch the sight of Ana. Their eyes lock in an intense gaze, blue burning into green. The blonde's mouth falls open, but her eyes never waver from the brunette's. And while their vision lingers on one another Giselle comes. Hard. Her body shivers, violently, beneath the slight weight of the man, a scream escapes from her throat. Even in her passion, the older woman never looks away from Ana's face; sapphire eyes harboured on her. And, as quickly as the orgasm has begun, it is over. Giselle sits up quickly, wrapping her body in a sheet, and ushers the man out of the apartment. With slight fuss, the man finally evacuates the small space, and the brunette slams and locked the door behind him. The dark blanket is wrapped tightly around the slender frame and floods onto the floor. Giselle's hands are braced against the door, but ever so slowly she turns around, facing Ana's gaze. Under the green scrutinization the strong-willed woman seems to cower as she pushes away from the door and staggers in the direction of her bedroom.



Ana watches as the woman disappears out of her view, and she feels her eyes begin to well up with tears once again. Not wiping them away this time, she stands, slides past her easel and out into the living room. Stopping for a moment, the blonde begins to change her mind, a confrontation will not mend the situation the two women are in. In fact, it will likely create a greater tension. But as Ana treks back to her room, she recalls the months of flirting, the lusty touches, the jealous rages, and the young woman freezes. For as long as she has lived with Giselle it has seemed that she has become the brunette's property, an item that she can use how, and whenever she wishes. Ana's body becomes engulfed in heat, her blood boils with anger. She is not going to let this woman treat her this way anymore. Spinning around, Ana stalks through the apartment to Giselle's bedroom. Thrusting open the door, the blonde looks at the woman standing by the window, her body now dons a large crimson t-shirt that falls to the middle of her thigh. Hearing the door crash against the wall, the brunette spins around, her cheeks slick with tears. Ana stares errantly at the woman she loves, the woman that hurt her. Tears or not, it will end tonight.

"You're a whore." Ana spits, her accent accentuating the hurtful comment.

"W-what...?" Giselle questions, dragging her fingers across her tear stained face.

"You heard me..." the blonde starts, walking closer to her roommate, "...you're a whore."

Silence descends upon the bedroom; watery azure eyes stare questioningly, emerald glaring angrily. The negative energy within the tiny room is thick; not even a serrated blade can cut through it. The two women stand at opposite sides, but their eyes never leave the sight of the other. Ana fidgets in her spot, scrapes her fingers through her hair, and then continues her tirade.

"You bring different men home every night, and you seduce them..." the blonde stops for a moment, seething, "...you fuck them."

"I--I...Ana, please..." Giselle sobs, wrapping her arms around herself limply.

"Shut up!" the blonde shouts. "I'm not finished!" Sucking in a breath, she walks closer to the brunette, an arms width away. "You sleep with all these men who don't give a shit about you! In fact, they hate you, they fucking hate you! Everyone hates you!"

"Stop..." The brunette breathes, tears sparkling in her blue eyes.

"Mark hates you..."

Giselle squares her shoulders at the mention of Mark. A defiant gaze adorns her features, but her rounded cheeks are still illuminated by the stale tears. She takes a step forward, almost hesitantly, and can feel the anger rolling off Ana in strong waves. Dropping her hands to her side, Giselle's blue eyes become hard as she looks at her roommate.

"...it must be torturous. To let all these men have a sample of you, make you feel like they love you, then throw you away like trash once they're finished." Ana pauses for a moment, her throat catches and she can feel tears forming in her eyes. "Must hurt to watch the people you care about leave you behind, use you, hurt you. Everyone you love detests you; they hate you!"

"Ana..." the brunette warns, her voice demanding.

"No. No! And it hurts!" the blonde begins to sob, tears falling rapidly down her face. "...it hurts..."

Giselle's face drops as she watches the scene play out before her. Every word that Ana has uttered struck a chord with her, resonated with her. And with each sense of familiarity came the anguished feeling of daggers sinking into her chest; pain seeping in. But as the sentences begin to sink into her mind, Giselle realizes that the angry blonde isn't speaking about her, or even to her, she is lashing out at herself. It has taken several moments for the brunette to come up with the result, but now that she has, her heart breaks. Dropping her hands to her sides, she erases the space between her and Ana and wraps the disgruntled woman in her arms. She feels the blonde fight against her; fists pound her chest, legs try to run away, but Giselle holds her tight, never letting go.

"Don't touch me!" Ana screams, trying in vain to push the brunette away.

"Quiet!" Giselle retorts loudly, holding the woman closer to her.

After several moments of struggling, the blonde's fight dissolves and she slumps into her roommate's arms. The brunette gingerly places her cheek atop Ana's shivering head, and strokes her hair whilst holding onto her tightly. The blonde's long fingers grasp onto the material of Giselle's clothing, terrified of being released. Terrified of being alone.

"She doesn't notice me..." Ana whispers into Giselle's neck, "...she doesn't want me..."

The brunette chokes back a sob as she continues calming the shaking woman in her arms. She knows rejection well, but she can't seem to fathom why anyone would reject Ana. Her mind spins as she tries to discover what women in their right mind would deny Ana of their affections. Giselle can only wish that the small blonde will feel anything but dismay towards her. Moments pass by, and after much thought, the brunette lifts her head, places a finger beneath Ana's chin, and tilts her face up so they are looking at one another. Liquid green eyes peer at her, wounded, and Giselle gives her a watery smile. Cupping the small face in both palms, the brunette begins to wipe away the offending tears; Ana doesn't deserve to be hurt.

"You are absolutely perfect..." she whispers, enunciating each word forcefully, "...and if that woman won't take notice of you, won't care for you, she doesn't deserve to be with you..."

Ana's mouth falls open, and her eyes fall away from the beautiful face in front of her. Stepping away from the comforting arms, she lets her body fall onto the bed, sitting down with her head in her hands. Giselle watches her curiously, unsure of what it was that she has done to cause the blonde to react this way. Taking a few steps towards Ana, the brunette stops when she notices that she is beginning to speak. Ceasing her movements, she halts, opening her mind and ears to anything that the blonde will willingly vocalize.

"You have no idea who I'm talking about..." Ana asks blankly, "...do you?"

"No...I don't..."

"Oh..." Rising from the bed, she walks limply towards the door. "I'm going to bed."

"Ana..." Giselle starts, following after the retreating form, "...wait!"

The brunette rushes out of her bedroom and into the living room. Taking hurried steps, she approaches Ana as she walks into her own room. Standing by the door her eyes meet the blonde's and she sees the dark wisps of sorrow float through the emerald depths. Opening her mouth to say something, anything, the door immediately slams in her face. Jerking away, Giselle stares at the door and watches as it becomes blurry as tears cloud her eyes. Turning around, she presses her back to the door and slides down against the wood, landing on the floor in a seated position. Pushing her knees to her chest, she wraps her arms around them and cradles her head. Everything that transpired tonight has been too much, and Giselle doesn't know if she can handle the pain of the one person she cares for being mad at her. And she lets her tears fall freely, for the first time in a long time, as she mumbles to herself:

"Why is she so angry...?" Whispers between sobs, "...what did I do?"




The blonde writhes in her bed; long legs kick against the soft material of the mattress while slender fingers grip onto blankets desperately. Ana's sleep is fitful, it has been this way all night, and yet, the young woman never wakes, stuck in a world she cannot escape. Her dreams are filled with rage and sorrow; horrible images bump around in her sleep-heavy head. The subconscious of her mind wills her to open her eyes, emerge into reality, but her body merely continues to jerk in a feeble attempt. These thoughts cause Ana's beautiful face to contort in fear; her blonde hair matted against her forehead with perspiration. Finally, taking a deep gasp of air, green eyes fly open as the blonde's body jerks forward into a sitting position. Rubbing her face, Ana slowly tries to regain her breath, instantly erasing the terrible images of her dreams. Sucking in deep, gulping breaths of air, the blonde struggles out of her bed and walks across her room. Pulling off her sweat soaked pyjamas, she lets the cool air flow over her bare skin for several moments before wrapping a robe tightly around her naked form.

A silent yawn escapes her parted lips, exhausted from the horrible nightmares that plagued her. Crossing the room, she reaches towards the door, coffee is a needed element in helping her to survive the day. Turning the knob, she pulls open the door, but jumps back, green eyes widening, as a limp body tumbles into her room. Covering her mouth in shock, Ana looks down at Giselle sprawled across the floor, wincing in pain. Blue eyes flicker open, and the brunette gives a small, sleepy grin at the surprised blonde.

"Morning, Ana." Giselle slurs, getting up off the floor.

"What were you doing?" Ana asks sceptically, placing her hands on her hips.

"I was waiting by your door..." the brunette says, rubbing the back of her head, "...I must have fallen asleep."

"Evidently." The blonde says curtly, walking past Giselle and out into the large section of the apartment.

Giselle follows after Ana like a lost puppy, her eyes wide with realization that the smaller woman is still angry. Entering the kitchen the blonde goes about with her business, gathering a cup and coffee grounds, ignoring her roommate completely. The brunette leans against the small island in the middle of the room and picks up an apple from the fruit tray, biting into it languidly. Her eyes watch for any sign of notice, but Ana's gaze never wavers over towards Giselle, and this makes her upset.

"Why are you mad at me?" The brunette asks sullenly, placing the bitten fruit on the table.

"I'm not mad at you..." Ana breathes, turning towards her companion, her shoulders drooping, "...I'm mad at myself."


"Is that all you can say!?" The blonde blurts, slamming her coffee mug on the counter; water slopping across the dry surface.

"You are mad at me..." Giselle whispers, approaching Ana swiftly, placing a hand on her arm.

Without noticing, the blonde leans into the soft touch, relishing in the sensations that tingle along her skin. Shivering, Ana turns around to face Giselle, her green eyes searching the brunette's face. A frown curls across her lips as she finally looks at Giselle for the first time. Her eyes are lightly pink from a night of crying, her mouth is creased in a straight line; she's sad, hurt, everything that Ana is feeling. Flickering her gaze to the floor the blonde berates herself. While she was angry with Giselle at the feelings that she had provoked within her, she never realized how her words, or her actions had affected the brunette. She feels terrible.

"It's you..." Ana whispers, redirecting her eyes back to Giselle.

"What?" The brunette questions, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Last night..." the blonde confesses, her breath catching in her lungs, "...the woman I was talking about. It was you."

The brunette takes several steps away from Ana, a strange look poised across her face. Her blue eyes widen, and her mouth falls open but she remains silent. The lack of response makes the blonde nervous and she fidgets in her spot, trying as hard as possible to keep her strength. Eventually, the silence becomes far too much for Ana to handle, and she searches her mind for anything to aide the situation.

"Say something." The blonde pleads, walking over to Giselle. "I shouldn't have said anything, and I know it's stupid, but--" Her words cease when the brunette deftly interrupts.

"How could you think I don't notice you?" Giselle questions incredulously. "I've thrown myself at you every chance I got..." the brunette pauses, her eyes gazing into Ana's, "...there was never a moment when I didn't see you, Ana."

"What about all of those men?" The blonde croaks, green eyes blinking back tears. "What about Mark?"

"Do you honestly believe I cared for any of them? Of course I didn't...it was a feeble attempt to feel loved; it never worked..."

"But--but you were so upset when he--"

"Of course I was..." Giselle interrupts, approaching Ana's slouching form, "...if I couldn't get the affections of a desperate man, how could I possibly have a chance with you?" Her voice is soft and honest, it cuts the blonde to the core. "You're all I ever wanted. I just did a terrible job at trying to reach out to you...I'm not accustomed to kindness."

Ana's eyes fill with tears, and her body quakes as they fall from her eyes and down her cheeks. The confessions, the emotions, they're too much for her, and she needs to run away. Her mind can't even begin to fathom what is happening around her, and so the blonde does what she always does. She runs. Spinning around, she pushes away from the counter and stalks across the kitchen, but her body is halted by a firm grip around her forearm. Looking down at the slender fingers, Ana gasps as Giselle spins her around, making their eyes meet. The blonde's body is pressed between the edge of the island and the brunette's firm body. There is nowhere for her to hide, and her body is too weak to put up a fight. Slouching against the lithe frame, Ana looks up into Giselle's eyes; the azure orbs radiate several different emotions, but the blonde doesn't bother to decipher, she already knows how the older woman feels.

"I'm not letting you run this time." Giselle declares, cupping the sullen face between her palms. "Not this time."

The blonde's mouth opens trying to vocalize her thoughts, but her words are smothered by another mouth. Ana's green eyes flutter shut as she feels Giselle's lips crash against her's, her body igniting in flames. Their mouths move gently across one another, but as seconds pass the kiss becomes heated and hungry. Giselle's lips part, allowing the blonde access to her mouth. Ana softly enters the brunette's mouth, tasting every crevice of the warm, moist cavern, taking her time to revel in the pleasure. Giselle pushes the smaller woman's body more tightly against the island, getting as close to her as she possibly can. Ana's knees begin to buckle, and she wraps her arms around the brunette's neck, her fingers tangling in the long, dark waves. Both women are in complete bliss as lips play over lips, tongues touch softly and hands roam freely. After what seems like an eternity, Ana and Giselle break away from each other, mouths swollen and breaths bated. No words are passed between them; they both know what they want, and they are not going to waste their time with trivial thoughts that they already know the other has.

Looking deeply into Ana's eyes, Giselle places her hands on the blonde's hips, and lifts her onto the island, eliciting a soft gasp from the smaller woman. Agonizingly slow, the brunette pulls at the ties of Ana's robe, letting the material fall open and flutter to the floor. Running her fingers up the firm arms of her roommate, the blonde moans as Giselle's mouth kisses along her jaw line, leaving a trail of fire as her lips fall onto her neck. Ana's head falls back allowing her lover further access to her throat and presses Giselle's face deeper into her flesh. The brunette licks and sucks the tender flesh of the blonde's pulse point and shivers as she feels the smaller woman's thighs wrap around her slender waist. The blonde's body is on fire, every touch scalds her skin and she can't imagine anything feeling more pleasurable. Sighing into the thick air, Ana feels herself become wet as Giselle's hands cup her breasts.

"More..." Moans the blonde, pulling the brunette closer to her.

Listening to her lover's pleas, Giselle licks her way down the shivering woman's chest and wraps her mouth around an erect nipple. Gasping loudly, Ana arches her back in hopes of forcing more of herself in the brunette's talented mouth. Moving her hands down the lithe frame, the blonde reaches the hem of Giselle's nightshirt and pulls it over her head. Green eyes grow dark as they scour over the tantalizing flesh. Small hands flutter across the warm, exposed skin, sending searing flames through the brunette's veins. Lifting her face, Giselle presses her mouth against Ana's in a bruising, passionate kiss. Their tongues duel for dominance as fingers trace along each others slick bodies.

Breaking the kiss, Giselle pulls away from Ana who groans in protest. Placing a single finger on Ana's full lips, silencing her, the brunette uses her other hand to spread the blonde's legs further apart. Moaning at the sensation of cool air caressing her heated center, the smaller woman grips onto the island as she watches Giselle sink to the floor. Green eyes look at her questioningly, but the brunette merely chuckles as she moves closer to the curious young woman. Slowly, Giselle's palms massage the silken flesh of Ana's thighs, gently getting closer and closer to the place the blonde needs her most. Out of sheer frustration, the blonde grasps the older woman's hand and places it against her mound, writhing against the delicate fingers. Deftly, Giselle replaces her fingers with her mouth, licking away the sweet nectar of Ana's arousal. Throwing her head back and clenching her eyes shut, the blonde releases a cry of pleasure from her lips, pushing herself further into Giselle's open mouth. Making slow, leisurely strokes with her tongue, the brunette drinks from the smaller woman's core, relishing the wondrous taste. As Ana's slender frame begins wracking with shivers and jerks Giselle pulls away from the desperate woman, eliciting a throaty scream that echoes around the small apartment.

"Don't stop!" The blonde begs, her green eyes dark with lust, her voice thick with passion.

"You British people have such sexy accents..." Giselle purrs, standing between Ana's parted thighs.

"I haven't cum yet and all you can talk about is my accent?" The blonde husks, breathless. "You're so cruel."

"Ah, ah ah..." the brunette tuts, placing a chaste kiss on the frustrated woman's lips, "...the time will cum ..."

Laughing at her own double entendre, Giselle lets her hand fall down Ana's body, her fingers stopping, teasingly, at her opening. Groaning, the blonde tries in vein to impale herself on the long, slender fingers to no avail. Sucking in a breath, Ana places the palm of her right hand against Giselle's mound, catching the taller woman off guard and eliciting a moan from the brunette. Staring into each others eyes intensely, their mouths fall together in a soft kiss as their fingers emerge into each other. Each woman follows a synchronized rhythm as they enter each other again and again. Sounds of pleasure waft throughout the apartment; each moan heightens the tightly woven sexual tension. Ana arches her back, scrapping her nails across Giselle's back as she feels her climax build. The brunette shudders with each thrust, dark hair matting to her forehead with sweat. Their pace quickens and they grind into each other rapidly, breaths coming in short spurts, ravenous noises become louder. Everything intensifies. Both bodies burn with the rise of arousal and pleasure, both women on the brink of falling into the abyss of ecstasy. Giselle bites the tender flesh of Ana's shoulder, while the blonde screams as the two young women share a mind shattering orgasm.

After moments of catching their breaths, Ana and Giselle finally collapse in each others arms, floating in the realm of pure pleasure. Over the last couple of days, the last couple of months, their lives have been filled with extreme emotions, both positive and negative, but they have finally found each other in a place that is perfect. An embrace that will never break, even if they release one another. A world were their passion will never dwindle.



Two forms lay, tangled, in a bed of sheets. The female faces are wreathed in comfort and contentment, drenched in moonlight. Stars sparkle in the night sky outside a nearby window, sending sparkles shimmering throughout the dark bedroom. The women's limbs are wrapped around each other tightly. A passer-by would be unable to tell where one women begins and the other ends. They are one.

The long day of love making has worn out Ana and Giselle, who lay, slowly drifting off to sleep, in each other's arms. The blonde snuggles deeper into the soft, warm skin of her lover. Her head lays against the brunette's shoulder and her arms are wrapped around the thin waist. Fluttering across the silken skin with her fingers, Ana places a gentle kiss on Giselle's long neck as she presses their bodies together more closely. The brunette strokes the blonde's back soothingly, her breathing growing faint as if she were on the verge of falling asleep.

"Giselle...?" Ana whispers, lifting her head to look down at the beautiful face.

"Yes...?" Giselle sighs happily, a large smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Did you know that we would end up together?"

"No, I didn't..." the brunette's blue eyes slide open, illuminated by the pale moonlight, "...I thought you were too good for me."

Ana swats Giselle's stomach lightly, and crawls on top of her in hopes of pulling the truth from the stubborn brunette.

"Tell me the truth." Ana giggles, leaving butterfly kisses across Giselle's rounded cheeks.

"I am..." the brunette whispers, her eyes staring directly into the blonde's, "...you're so perfect, I couldn't imagine you having feelings for me. Well, aside from negative ones..."

"I have never thought anything negative about you. Ever since I first laid my eyes on you I knew you were what I wanted...and it scared me. I ran away."

"Will you run again?" Giselle asks, hope wafting through her glowing eyes.

"No." Ana answers quickly, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on the brunette's full lips. "I can never be without you now..." taking a breath, she cups the cherubic face in her palms, "...I love you too much."

The largest, most luminous smile creases Giselle's lips, igniting the entire room in a bright light. Leaning up she captures the blonde's lips in a searing, passionate kiss. Tongues caress, fingers intertwine, and a promise is made between the two women as the affection touch continues. A promise of forever.

Pulling away from lack of air, the two women lean into each other's bodies and hold on. Giselle cradles Ana in her arms, running her fingers through the fair hair softly. At this moment they both realize that all they need in life is each other. And they will never let go. Their bodies become one, once again, as they both gaze out the window. Emerald and sapphire eyes watch the stars twinkle in the vast onyx sky, finally acknowledging the true innocence of love, and they whisper to each other in the darkness before drifting off to sleep.

"I love you, Ana."

"And I love you, Giselle."

The End



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