Breaking The Mirror [Edited And Complete]

Lessons

For me.

Why does that make me feel so strange?

-

We'd been kissing for a while. A few months, maybe three or four, before he began to let his hands wander. At first, he wouldn't even kiss me every time, instead he's just cuddle with me and maybe kiss me on the cheek. Then, he kissed me on the mouth every time he lied down. Each Wednesday the kisses became longer, and it felt...weird.

Something felt odd. Wrong. Out of place.

But I had promised I wouldn't mind, and I kept my promises. So when he dipped his mouth to deepen the kiss a few weeks later, I didn't say anything. Even when he let his tongue slip into my mouth, I said nothing and merely attempted to kiss him back, awkwardly moving my tongue against his. I'd turned eight years old two months previously, so I was old enough to kiss back.

Charlie seemed happy with my effort.

But then, he let his hands slip from my waist, upwards, his large hands roaming over my thin chest. I suck in my breath and Charlie breaks the kiss, chuckling.

"You like that, Kiddo?" He inquires, his fingers pinching. I whimper.

"Ch-Charlie...what...?" I whisper softly and he smiles. "I...don't underst-stand..."

"Don't worry, Kiddo, I'll teach you..."

I just roll over and pull the covers over my head as though someone else could possibly see my private shame. Damn it all to hell. I just want... I just want...

Seaton.

Fuck it, why?

-

Alfred came in, looked at the bathroom, grunted in what I could only guess was approval and then went to his bedroom. I just lay in my bed staring at the ceiling and wanting nothing more than to go outside because, if I'm lucky, Seaton could be out there smoking. Maybe he'd even talk to me again. Maybe ask how I am.

Maybe he'd even smile.

Why do I look forward to that?

I turn over and wince as I disturb my left arm. It's a good thing it's winter, because I'll have to wear long sleeves for a while to hide that. Speaking of long sleeves...

I wore Seaton's jacket today.

I did not just think that. I'm not some star-struck little girl with an obsession with a movie star. Seaton is no movie star, although he does have rather strikingly handsome features... but no. I'm not some... some Lauren with a crush! And anyway, I could never like someone because liking leads to loving and loving leads to making love...

And that's just not going to happen.

Ever.

I need to take a shower.

-

On Wednesday, when I get back from the bookstore, still slightly dazed from the questions and comments from Linda and Suki, I see Seaton standing outside already, smoking his cigarette. He was the object of all the girls' questions: Who is he? Why were you spending the night with him? Why did he act like such a jerk? Does he wear contacts, because his eyes are, like, dark.

I was getting tired of their voices.

He looks at me as I climb the stairs and puts his cigarette out. He tosses it into the trashcan easily and I finally ask him the question I've been wondering for months.

"Why do you throw it away?"

He looks at me with those eyes again, and I regret ever talking to him. "Littering is wrong."

I nearly laugh. "Oh. Right. Why do you smoke out here?"

"Because I don't want my furniture to smell like smoke," He replies, shrugging. A few simple questions won't ruin my 'quiet guy' image, right? "What time are you allowed back in there?"

I blink, "Er... about midnight. Sometimes later."

"That's three and a half hours from now," He remarks, looking at his watch, "That gives us maybe two movies or one long one."

"What?" I shake my head and he raises his eyes to meet mine.

"You don't actually think I'm letting you stay out here in the cold, do you?" He queries curtly and continues before I can respond, "I let you go back. So now you come in here on Wednesdays."

"You don't have to –"

"I know," He interrupts me and then opens the door to his apartment, waving his hand toward it, "Go in."

"I..."

"No excuses," He snaps. "Inside. Now."

I sigh and go into his apartment again. He's right behind me the entire way into the living room. I can feel his body heat from the mere inches he is away. He's much too close. Yet he isn't close enough. I want to step away from him, and at the same time I want to stop in my tracks so that we're even closer, possibly touching.

Is that normal?

p