She had lived a life that wasn't her own. Every decision was made for her. At the end of the day though, she was still the one with the blood on her hands. To have the weight of abuse on your back is miserable. Especially when you're falling in love...
Yanis trots happily alongside me as though we aren't currently making our way to a decrepit battleground. I'd probably be more annoyed with her tactlessness if it weren't for the delightful feeling of her calloused hand in my own. I clear my throat, "please remember that we are going somewhere dangerous". She looks over at me unphased by my warning. "I've seen fields similar to what you described back home", she says, "trenches running along the land marring the countryside with sins of the past, I think I'll be okay". She smiles wide at me in reassurance. I'm so distracted by her beaming face that I walk straight into the first pit. I feel my heel connect with its crumbling edge and start to lose my balance as I fail to find traction. My mind goes numb for a moment with panic before I feel two strong arms wrap around my waist pulling m closer to a warm body. I stay like that for a moment catching the breath that left me and trying to tell myself I don't love how perfectly her arms fit around me. I steel my nerves and step out of her embrace. Her smile is now gone when she looks at my blushing face. She closes the distance I'd only just made. One hand coming to rest on my arm the other my cheek. She's just enough taller than me to have to look down at me like this. "This is really a beautiful place", she tucks a rebellious tendril of hair behind my ear, "I'm glad to be here with you". Her eyes close as she leans in the last inch. For a moment I feel an awareness like never before. The way lilacs and candied orange hang in the air. The long untrimmed grass on my calves still damp with the morning dew. And how every nerve in my body sparks with pleasure at the feeling of her lips on mine. She pulls away hesitantly and I open my eyes to meet her half-lidded ones. She's so perfect I forget myself. I crash my lips against hers and she returns my fervor with equal intensity. Her hands wander from their original position, one now tangling in my hair and the other finding my hip. My own start to explore the rigid expanse of her back. I feel her every ragged breath imagining how they must mirror mine. She pulls away again flushed and panting. I want her to go back to kissing me and never stop, instead, she presses a quick kiss to my forehead. The smile she gives me is not unlike that of only a few minutes ago. It is only at that do I snap myself out of whatever trance I'd found myself in. I rush back from her as though shocked. She must notice my new found panic, she rubs her neck awkwardly. "I gotta admit that went a bit further than I'd planned", she says with a chuckle. "You planned that?", I ask aghast. She gives me a sly look, "do a lot of people hold your hand into beautiful private locations for strictly platonic reasons?". I remain unchanged. "Don't act like you don't feel it too", she says, "you've been staring at me and blushing since we met". "I have no idea what you mean", I rush to defend myself a bit too quickly. A look of realization crosses her features. "I don't know a ton about your culture, but I did learn a good bit about mates", she starts, "are we-". Before she can say the last word I run. Unlike the first time we met, I can hear her after me. I only make it a few feet before I'm lifted into the air. I kick my legs wildly as she pins my arms in her grip. "Let me go", I shout. She doesn't she holds me until I tire from struggling. It's only once my body and soul grow weary does she let me down, though still keeping a hand firmly around my wrist to keep me from running. "Why", she demands, "I've spent the last few days out of my mind trying to figure out these feelings and you could have easily just told me". I stare back at her guilty. "Is it because I'm human?", she asks. A harsher look crosses her features. "Is it because I'm a woman?", she asks. "I never meant for you to find out", my voice comes out hoarse. She drops my arm, but this time I don't run. "It's just my luck", she exclaims, "I get away from my piece of shit stepfather, to go find my long-lost sister in a coma. Then upon realizing I've found 'the love of my life' I found out she's a homophobe". "I'm sorry I just can't", I try to explain weakly, "I can't be what you want me to be". "Yeah whatever", with that she turns her back on me and retreats back the way we came.
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