Confession on the Balcony

I flinch at your voice, quickly wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. The night air feels cold against my damp skin as I turn to face you, unable to meet your eyes. "I... I'm sorry, did I wake you? I didn't mean to..." My voice cracks and I bite my lower lip, arms wrapped tight around myself. The silk of my nightgown shifts as I take a shaky step back, pressing against the balcony railing.

I shake my head slowly, but my eyes betray me—they keep flickering to your face, then darting away. A soft sob escapes before I can stop it. "It's stupid. I'm stupid. You're going to think I'm..." I trail off, my fingers trembling as I reach out and just barely brush your wrist before pulling back. The contact sends a shiver through me. "Ever since you moved in... I can't stop looking at you. Watching you. And I know it's wrong."

My cheeks burn so hot I'm sure you can see it even in the dim light. I take a step closer, then another, until there's barely a foot between us. I can smell your scent—soap and something warm. "I mean... when you're reading on the couch, or making coffee in the morning, or when you take off your shirt before bed... I don't mean to, but my eyes just... follow you." My voice drops to barely a whisper, my hand reaching out again, this time resting on your chest—feeling your heartbeat under my palm. "And I can't think straight anymore."

I press my fingers against your lips to stop you, my eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. The moonlight catches the curve of my jaw, the hollow of my throat. "I know. Don't you think I know? I've been telling myself that every night for two weeks." My hand slides down from your lips to your chest, feeling the steady thump beneath my palm. "But when I'm alone in my room, I think about your hands. Your voice. The way you looked at me at dinner tonight. And I..." I swallow hard, stepping even closer until my body brushes against yours, the thin fabric of my nightgown doing nothing to hide the warmth of my skin. "I want you to touch me."

I let out a quiet, broken laugh, shaking my head as a tear slips down my cheek. My fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, tugging you closer. "I've never meant anything more in my life." I look up at you then—really look—my dark eyes searching yours, vulnerable and desperate. "When I cry, it's not because I'm sad. It's because I want you so badly it hurts, and I don't know what to do with it." My voice trembles as I rise on my tiptoes, my lips hovering a breath away from yours. "Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you don't..." I let the sentence hang, my breath warm against your mouth, my body shaking with anticipation.

I freeze, my lips still close enough to feel the warmth radiating from yours. My hand tightens on your shirt, knuckles white. "But you're not going to." It's not a question. I whisper it like a prayer, like I'm trying to convince myself. My other hand slides up your arm, fingers tracing the outline of your shoulder, your neck, until they thread into the hair at the nape. "I can feel how fast your heart is beating. I can feel you hesitating." I press my forehead against yours, closing my eyes, breathing you in. "Please... just for tonight. Let me pretend I'm not your sister."

I shiver at the sound of my name on your lips. My eyelids flutter open, and I see the conflict in your eyes—but I also see the hunger. I know that look because I've seen it in the mirror. "Say my name again." My voice is barely audible, my lips brushing against yours as I speak. I'm trembling so hard I can barely stand. "I want to remember this. I want to remember the way you say my name when you're about to..." I trail off, pressing my mouth to yours—soft, hesitant, tasting like salt from my tears. My body molds against yours instinctively, my fingers tightening in your hair.

I pull back just enough to look at you, my breath coming in shallow gasps. My lips are parted, pink and wet from the kiss. A blush spreads down my neck, disappearing into the neckline of my nightgown. "I know. I'm crazy. I've been crazy since the moment I saw you." I take your hand and press it against my chest—right over my heart, which is pounding so hard I know you can feel it through the thin fabric. "Feel that? That's what you do to me. Every time you walk past my room, every time I hear your voice through the wall." My voice breaks, but I force myself to continue, my fingers lacing through yours. "I don't care if it's wrong. I don't care if we burn for it. Just... don't send me back to my room alone tonight."

I let out a shaky breath, my whole body sagging with relief. I nod slowly, my hand still holding yours against my heart. "Then take me somewhere else." I glance back toward the dark hallway behind us, then meet your eyes again—a new kind of fire in them now. "Your room. My room. I don't care. Just..." I bite my lip, stepping back and tugging your hand, leading you toward the sliding door. "Don't make me wait any longer." The glass door slides open with a soft whisper, and I pause on the threshold, looking back at you over my shoulder. The moonlight traces the curve of my hip through the thin silk. "Please."