Agnes sighed as she sat at her desk, over-looking the multitude of papers she had folded on her desk. It was all writing paper and all of them had her handwriting on it. These were the papers, the ones that depicted her time of hell with her papers. A while ago she wrote everything down, everything that she could remember. She needed to because she knew that it was time to face it, time to give it reality again by putting it down on paper. That was the only way she could find any solace was by making it real.

Then, she contemplated ripping them up. No one should have to know the sorted annuals of her history…but she couldn’t do that either. As much as she wanted to symbolically destroy what her parents did…the papers needed to exist. They had to just in case.

With a sigh, the pale teen wiped her tired blue eyes as she, refolded the papers and slipped them back inside of a book. Once she replaced that on her desk, she sighed as she stood and headed back for her bed. Gina was gone again, probably out hanging out with some other friends. In a way she was a little jealous but also very happy for the young gargoyle. She had a good group of friends and hopefully they would be treating her well.

Staring at her empty bed, Agnes knelt down and pulled her violin case from underneath. Setting it on top, she sighed as she flicked open the case and stared down at her most prized possession. It was the only thing she really cared to bring with her when she left home. It was the only thing that could feel the same amount of sadness that she had as well as express the joy she always wanted.

But not everything was sad. She was getting better. She was learning to accept what happened to her and now that the ball was rolling and the police were involved, she knew that eventually her parents would be caught. Agnes put a lot of trust in the guidance counselor that she could keep her safe. She truly hoped and believed it…

“Please don’t be wrong,” Agnes muttered to herself as she ran her delicate fingers over the strings.

When she glanced up though, she spied a familiar object sitting on her desk, serving as a bookend. It was Rhythm’s motorcycle helmet. A small mist of tears began to gather at the corner of her eyes and she had to force herself to stop. In a way she still missed her, even though that was only one meeting. She wanted to find her, to apologize for running like that. But…there was so much wrong with her. Agnes knew that. Her body…scarred beyond belief…how could anyone love her?

With a sigh, Agnes took a calming breath and removed her violin from the case, as well as the bow. Sitting at the edge of her bed, she glanced at herself briefly in the mirror. In loose, gray sweats and a dark purple t-shirt with a ladybug on it, she smirked a little to herself. It was ironic, she had completely forgotten she had this shirt.

But, taking on last glance at Rhythm’s helmet, Agnes closed her eyes, set the violin under her chin and very…very gently…she began to play a song which she secretly dedicated to Rhythm. Maybe…just maybe she’d hear it…

Ashley got up from her rather embarrassing position from the ground before giving it a good slap.

So, okay. Jorge had set her free. No one had to really know about what happened with Isabel, the museum, the complete and utter devastation about everything. It was a second chance and, seeing as it happened not a few minutes ago, Ashley decided she needed to take advantage of it. Jorge was right; in the end she gave up endless amounts of money and turned herself in for the hope that Agnes could look at her and not be ashamed. It was time to stop running.

Well, running away.

And judging by the way she just faceplanted a moment ago, maybe she should walk.

The redhead didn't get excited about much, but right now she was stupid happy. She didn’t know Agnes' room number though, but going to the girl’s dormitory was probably her best bet, right? The guitarist wiggled her nose, trying to get feeling back into it. At the moment she simply sat there with a hand to her countenance, wondering how she was going to explain her no doubt bruised face thanks to her cosmic faceplant.

Deciding it didn't matter, Ashley got up and brushed herself off, hoping she didn't look like a hobo. Which, she guess, probably didn't matter, considering Agnes' (as well as her own) past.

“Hullo.”

Ashley jumped to her feet, combat ready, before spying a little girl holding a teddy bear behind her. The redhead blinked a few times before smiling, scratching the back of her head. “Hi.” she gave a meek wave.

“You're looking for someone.” It wasn't a question. Another blink, and Ashley nodded. The girl walked up to the tomboy and grabbed her hand before closing her eyes for a moment. She nodded. “Come.”

Without further word, the girl with the surprisingly strong grip led Ashley down the hall and to a specific room. Both stood there for a minutes, listening to the beautiful music that came from the room. The redhead felt a tug on her hand and she looked down to the big soulful eyes of the little girl. Instinctively, it seemed, Ashley sat down as the girl climbed into Ashley's lap with her.

“She's calling to you.” she said. “The girl in your vision, your mind. She's almost screaming for you. It's been hurting my head for days.”

“Calling?” Ashley narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Like...how?”

“She.” the little girl said. “Her. She's been calling. Herself. Her looks. She longs.”

“I, ummm...don't get it...” Ashley gave the girl a confused look, a look the little girl with the teddy bear seemed to understand. “Sorry.”

“It's okay.” she said, giving Ashley's arm a condescending pat and sighing the way only small children can when dealing with adults. “Just make her stop. She'll drive me mad.”

“Sure.” Ashley said resolutely, though inside she didn't know how she was going to go about doing that. The little girl nodded, climbing off of Ashley's lap and patting the redhead's head. “Do my best.”

“Good. Off you go then.” The little girl padded off, leaving Ashley slightly confused but happy she was outside of Agnes' door.

She scampbled up, taking her time once again to appreciate the music that was coming from the beautiful mutant's door before grasping and turning the door knob and shoving forward.

And slamming her face into the door. Again.

Locked.

“Ow.” Ashley moaned, stumbling backwards. Really, fate? Twice now?! Perfect.

Agnes sighed, her eyes closed as she continued to play the tune that beat hard from inside her chest. It was a song she had dedicated to that mysterious musician, that young guitar player that she had fallen so deeply for. The scent of her hair, the feeling of her skin under her touch, the pure warmth and body heat she felt when they sat so close on that bike, all of it was that was drove that music that she played right now. And even though she was the artist, she was the violinist playing, she was still touched by her own music. Tears began to well up at the corner of her eyes and gently, ever so gently began to roll down her cheeks.

It was a like magic. That was the only way she could describe how she felt about Rhythm and why her image continued to haunt her so endlessly. It had been awhile since she saw her last and still, still everything was so fresh in her mind. She simply could not understand it. Was that was love was?

Agnes really didn’t know love. The only people she knew who were in a committed relationship was her own parents and they were not the type of people to emulate. She might as well kill herself here and now if that was what love was all about. On top of that, the only experience she knew about was secondhand, from her former “friends” in high school who wanted nothing more than to brag about which boy they kissed or how long they made them wait before they got to second base.

So it was safe to say that the runaway’s view on love was a little skewed. How could she know if what she felt for Rhythm was in fact real and not some illusion cooked up by her imagination? Maybe it was just intense attraction? After all that kiss they shared was pretty passionate but…was that love? Would she ever learn the difference between passion and love?

The strings of her violin gently weeping, Agnes slowly pulled her solo to a close, letting the bow slide and tickle them softly before she ended her tune. Carefully she removed the bow to the side and let her posture relax a little as she glanced at herself in the mirror. She was so tired, so weary and her eyes were already beginning to turn a soft shade of red from the tears she held back. She was so confused, so lost, and there was really no one she could talk to. Sometimes, she wished she was not so secretive and just had a friend she could confide in.

She turned, she began to put her violin way when…

THUMP!

>> “Ow.”

Curiously she turned back to her door. She wondered if someone where there. Who would run into it? Unless it was his roommate Gina and she had bumped into it or something? It was then that Agnes rolled her eyes and sighed. She had just locked the door. No wonder Gina couldn’t get in.

“Sorry!” Agnes shouted from her bed. “I didn’t mean to keep it locked.”

Walking over to the door, she shook her head at her own silliness. Gina was her roommate, what right did she had to lock her out? With a sigh she undid the lock and pulled the door open to her roommate with a small, guilty smile on her face.

“Sorry, I didn’ t–“ her voice got caught in her throat. She spied that mass of red hair, the tall, tight frame and the familiar gray, smoldering eyes that had enveloped her so deeply what seemed like ages ago. Even the scent was the same, wafting over her and tickling the insides of her nose. “R-Rhythm…?”

“Agnes...”

Well, that's what Ashley attempted to say. What came out was a muffled, stuffy version of the girl's name and she felt slightly ridiculous saying it. She also, suddenly, felt silly still wearing the same clothes that she had gotten from DocProf's infirmary; the too tight red t-shirt and baggy, hip hugging scrubs bottoms that doctor's usually wore. But even so, all of that was washed away as Ashley stared at the girl that had been consuming her thoughts for...well, ever since she had met her.

“Ummm...sorry...”

The redhead bowed her head, her hands dropping to her side before she clasped them behind her back. She toed the ground a bit, wondering what to say. In her mind she had plenty of things to say; how she was sorry she had chased the girl away with her forward attitude, groping and kissing. She wanted to tell Agnes all about losing her mind and what she had done with Isabel. She wanted to tell Agnes about Bentley, and how they weren't together anymore but how Ashley still felt guilty for kissing Agnes while still dating the mutant.

She had a lot to feel guilty about.

Instead she focused on the red dots that were appearing on the floor.

“Bleeding...” Ashley said winningly before looking up to Agnes with a meek smile. “Sorry. I, uhhh...hit my nose. On door.”

She was pretty sure she couldn't feel any more embarrassed even if she tried. She wouldn't be surprised of Agnes burst out laughing at the current situation. Maybe she could play this all off as a way to get her motorcycle helmet back? Inwardly Ashley brightened at the idea. Yeah!! Okay, that was doable. Maybe she could walk away from all of this with a shred of dignity!!

“I need you.”

A beat. Two. Ashley blinked. Yeah...she said that out loud.

But like everything else she'd been saying, it came out muffled and stuffy thanks to her still sore and slightly bleeding nose. But it'd been said, and Ashley didn't dare look up into those heartbreaking blue eyes.

>> “Agnes...Ummm...sorry...”

Agnes just stood there. Stood there! What could she possibly say or do? The confusion that had washed over her face was unrelenting. Was Rhythm really here, standing at her doorway? Did she really come back? But why? The young runaway was at such odds with herself, mainly because she did not know how to react to the young musician’s presence. She had spent a good day or so just lamenting over everything that happened that night. Finally, FINALLY she was beginning to have some closure and…she appears her door.

What was she to do?

Looking over the young woman, Agnes immediately felt her heart rate speed up, the blood pumping through her veins much harder. She was sure her pale cheeks were flushed red by now, judging by how warm she felt. God this was so embarrassing for her. How could she possibly contain herself? She was angry, frustrated, happy, sad, every single emotion she could have flew through her so fast she could not focus on one!

Then she noticed Rhythm as she hung her head, looking slightly embarrassed. She seemed to be in pretty much the same boat as Agnes was. It was then that she really began to feel bad. After all, it was not Rhythm that left her behind that night. She knew that she owed the woman and explanation, especially considering how passionate the two had nearly gotten. She wanted to open her mouth and explain, say that it was not Rhythm, that she didn’t need to apologize…

…then she noticed the blood.

>> “Bleeding...Sorry. I, uhhh...hit my nose. On door.”

“Oh…my god, Rhythm, are you okay?” Agnes asked, her voice full of pure and absolute concern.

>> “I need you.”

It was at this point that Agnes’ mind completely blanked. She was just a statue now, staring at Rhythm with this mixture of confusion and sheer loss. She really did not know how to respond the woman’s words. Her heart skipped a beat, her blood ran a little faster and she felt that blush extend to her whole body. Her skin tingled, practically screamed at her to be touched again, to simply hold the woman’s hands or hold her close in a hug. But instead of acting on those impulses, Agnes calmed herself. Rhythm was still bleeding after all.

Gently she reached out her hand, almost terrified at first, it trembled as she gripped Rhythm’s. So softly Agnes pulled Rhythm towards her, into her room. As she stepped aside, she began to lead Rhythm to a nearby chair at her desk.

“Come on,” she said quietly. “J-Just sit down? Okay?” she smiled warmly, full of compassion and hope towards the musician. “I-I’ll get a rag to help clean you up.”

Slowly, reluctantly, she walked away from Rhythm, leaving her to sit down. As she stepped into the restroom, she grabbed a small hand towel and immediately got to work soaking it under the stream of cold water from her faucet. When it was properly wet, she turned and caught herself briefly in the mirror. She eyed herself, then quickly tucked down some strays wisps of hair to make herself look presentable and took a long, calming breath. It was only then that she reentered her bedroom with the cool rag in hand.

She leaned down in front of Rhythm, a small smile on her face as she carefully touched her chin.

“Let me take a look at that,” she whispered as she tenderly dabbed the cool cloth on Rhythm’s hurt nose.

The touch on her hand was like fire, and Ashley wanted to be consumed by it.

She could almost hear ever creak the door let out as it closed shut behind them, and every footstep that it took to get to a nearby desk to sit down. She was broken out of her daze when she lost sight of Agnes and her cute behind (what was it with her and girl's butts?!) as the other mutant girl went into the bathroom. She had said something before, but it was all muffled as the only thing Ashley could focus on was her; Agnes, the person that had been running her mind for awhile.

>>“Let me take a look at that.”

Ashley nodded, sighing a bit as Agnes touched her twice abused face and closed her eyes. Of course, the girl's touch as gentle and soft and every other such description and offshoots of those words the redhead had come to associate with the Agnes herself. She told herself to stop being a coward and opened her eyes, smoldering gray eyes looking into crystal blue. She held up a hand and clutched Agnes' wrist.

“I do.” Ashley said, her husky voice deep. “Need you.”

She knitted her eyebrows, pulling Agnes in , holding a arm around her waist so the brunette was on her lap, straddling her. She didn't care that they were in a very intimate position, she only wanted Agnes to know, know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ashley needed her. She didn't know how else to put it, though, and it wasn't like she was a magician with words. She was getting better, thanks to Andrew, but as of yet she couldn't exactly Shakespeare words into existence.

She could only do her best.

“You...” Ashley looked off to the side for a moment. “I think about. You. All the time. You...make me...” She bit her bottom lip and chewed it for a moment before looking back to Agnes. Yes. It was time to stop being a coward. There was nothing holding her back. No Isabel, no Bentley, nothing. “Make me wanna be better. Better...person. Mutant. For you...”

She sighed, exasperated. She would have push Andrew into those lessons, cause right now she was pretty sure she'd give her right arm to be able to tell Agnes that she'd be willing to do anything for her.

Gently Agnes started to dab at Rhythm’s hurt nose. The bleeding had pretty much stopped, she was just not cleaning the dried remains from around her upper lip. Also, at the same time, she pressed the cooled cloth against the already bruising nose. It was so gently, how she was acting right now. She had never been like this with anyone before but it seemed to come so naturally. Part of her wondered where she got it from. Certainly not her mother or father or any of their congregation. They did not have the simple gentle natures that Agnes was providing here. Instead though, it seemed to come from somewhere deeper. Somewhere that transcended her life’s lessons.

But as she dabbed so softly, she paused when she locked eyes with Rhythm. Those gray, stormy eyes that nearly engulfed her the last time she looked at them were now attempting to do so again. Her own rich, blue eyes sparkled as she watched Rhythm stare back at her. Just the simple act alone caused her heart to beat just that much louder in her chest. She could hear the thundering in her ears so much that she could not ignore it.

A little shyly she nibbled on her bottom lip as she slowly removed the rag from Rhythm’s nose. It was only then that the most gorgeous redheaded musician spoke again…

>> “I do…Need you.”

Another skip and Agnes felt a little light headed. What was she really supposed to say to this? She struggled with these feelings when she first met Rhythm and now she was having those same anxieties. She really did not know how to analyze these feelings or what to make of them. But then was when she felt the hands of the much taller musician wrap around her waist and pulled her close.

This was the second time Agnes found herself straddling the mutant’s lap. And for the second time she just didn’t care. She felt so warm and peaceful all over, as if she found the last missing piece to a jigsaw puzzle. She shuddered, her skin goosebumped, but Agnes did not fight the feelings anymore. Rhythm, this musician, had her too enraptured to continued to try and think about it. She had to stop thinking about it. Stop over-thinking what this was and if it was a morally right thing. None of that mattered right now. Instead there was only that overwhelming passion that wanted to consumer her from deep in the core of her being.

This was absolutely right, it had to be.

>> “You...I think about. You. All the time. You...make me...Make me wanna be better. Better...person. Mutant. For you...”

Agnes gulped as she heard the most earnest and sincere words she had ever heard. Though none had ever spoken to her like that before, she had to believe that these words were real. She simply had to. There was so much heartfelt honesty in them that Agnes quite literally felt like she was going to cry. The corners of her eyes misted over, her blue eyes shimmering with ready to fall tears whenever she blinked.

So she did the only thing she could.

Dropping the rag to the side, Agnes carefully and slowly raised her hands and cupped Rhythm’s sweet face gently. Leaning down, her breath momentarily mixing with hers, Agnes closed her eyes and placed the smallest of kisses against the corner of Rhythm’s mouth. It was so sweet, so tender, that she had to do it again.

Another tiny kiss…then again…then then finally she brushed her lips against that of the redheaded musician’s.

All the while, in the back of her mind, her song to Rhythm, the exact same one she was playing before she walked into the room, began to play again.

Needless to say, Ashley was shocked.

For one, she thought that if anyone were going to initiate anything intimate, it was would be her. That wasn't to say she didn't appreciate the soft, tiny kisses she was getting. Nor did she mind the eventual lip lock she found herself in. She sighed and moaned at the same time, wondering how that was possible in the meantime, but really her mind was a tad white at the moment as the redhead couldn't focus on anything else but this girl's lips on her own.

When they pulled apart, it was a little like last time. Panting, forehead to forehead, eyes downcast...Ashley took a moment to gather her scattered thoughts. She picked a spot that seemed relevant to their current situation and grabbed onto it. She didn't want to ruin the mood, but it was something she had to know. Their current actions confirmed for the musician that Agnes felt about her like she felt for Agnes.

“You ran.” Ashley said, softly. She did her best to leave the accusatory tone out of her voice, but it was hard. Because of that rejection, Ashley had gone into a downward spiral that led to a night of insanity with Isabel. “Why?”

She looked up then, her eyes determined as she pulled Agnes closer, as if trying to meld their bodies together. She furrowed her eyebrows as one arm tightened around the mutant's skinny waist and the other want to a shapely thigh. She gripped them both, not wanting Agnes to escape again.

Ashley didn't know what she would do if Agnes left her again.

Agnes still could not believe that she was doing this. She was wrapped in the arms of this lovely woman, her lips pressed against hers, their body heat melding together to a temperature that Agnes was sure would set her on fire. But she didn’t care. She simply did not care anymore. All she knew was that she did not want to tear her hands away from this musician again. Her small, thin fingers curled through Rhythm’s hair as she pressed tighter, feeling as if her very soul were being warmed up from the warmth in her tummy. She felt much the same as she did the last time she kissed Rhythm…

…Except now she didn’t hear her parents’ voices telling her she was a sinner. There were no more accusations, no more spiteful remarks. Instead, all she heard was the sound of peace and utter bewilderment. She was lost in Rhythm and she didn’t want to find an escape.

It was with reluctance and agony that the pair of them split apart. Agnes forced the kiss to stop because, quite frankly, she needed to breathe. But even as she pulled away, she still pressed her forehead against Rhythm’s, inhaling the woman’s sweet scent, staring into her eyes and blinking so very slowly. She did not know was this feeling was, but she was slowly finding a name for it.

But slowly, during the break, words had to be shared. And Agnes immediately felt a little ashamed…

>> “You ran…Why?”

She could feel Rhythm’s grip tighten on her. It was almost as if she were afraid she was going to run off away. Agnes could not blame her and that was why she felt ashamed. She did not know what the woman thought of her after that incident but whatever it was, it was not true. There was a reason that she ran. It was a horrible one, and one that she needed to work on, but there was a reason. The runaway figured though that maybe…just maybe she should tell her…

Slowly, ever so slowly she began to loosen her grip. As she did she began to peel herself away from Rhythm. This immediately seemed to set off warning lights in the redhead’s eyes as she shook her head “no”, but Agnes was quick to offer a compassionate smile and kissed her lips again.

“Ssh, shh, no, no, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Another kiss and when she felt Rhythm’s grip reluctantly loosen, Agnes stepped back away from her. “I…I just need to explain…why I ran.”

She sniffled as she stood before Rhythm, feeling all of a sudden very shy. But she had to work through it. She had to make this her own…and she would. Shakily, Agnes slipped off her shoes and kicked them underneath her bed. At the same time she turned her back to Rhythm, trying hard not to chicken out of doing this. With her back turned, the runaway carefully reached down, grabbed the edge of her shirt and, with a steady breath, lifted it up and over her shoulders.

The air felt chilly against her pale skin. She still had on a deep green bra but other that that she was shirtless. And even as she stood there, she could feel Rhythm’s eyes on her. Unfortunately she could not tell what feeling was behind that gaze. But she was not going to falter. She had decided to do this so she would. Meekly she tossed the shirt aside and let Rhythm observe her back.

“M-My parents…they…they were very religious,” she whispered. Across her back were several old marks that looked like those from a whip. They lashed across her back quite large. Weaved in-between them were several other tiny scars that were made of smaller knives. “They…never like mutants. They said…they were demon possessed. That their souls were corrupted.” She sniffled as she began to turn around to face Rhythm, her bright blue eyes closed for fear of seeing the redhead’s reaction. “When they found out I was a mutant…they…they tried to exorcize me. They tried to drive the ‘demon’ out.”

Once she was fully turned, more tiny scars from cuts could be seen across her stomach at sides. The worst of all, though, the absolute worse was the crucifix that had been branded into her stomach. To the side of her bellybutton, the scar was the obviously the largest and most pronounced of all that she had. It glared up at her angrily, a symbol of her parents’ ‘love’ for her, etched forever into her skin.

“T-This is why I ran,” she sniffled, tears beginning to rolled down through her closed eyelids. “I…I didn’t want you to see this. I didn’t want…anyone to see this…I’m a monster…” she sniffled, still not cautioning a look at Rhythm. Instead, she simply stood and waited to hear if the sound of a door slamming closed and a departed lover would follow.

It was hard, very hard, not to pull Agnes back into her lap. But she listened to her and let her go, and the feeling of loss was instantaneous. The warmth the little girl provided was gone and Ashley gave out a small whimper of protest, not really caring if she sounded particularly pathetic about it. Somehow, Ashley knew that this was something big for Agnes, so she sat back and watched in awe as the brunette took off her shirt.

Anger instantly flared up in Ashley. Anger like she'd never felt before in her life.

She wanted to reach out and touch the scars that she saw, trace them, feel them. Instead she let Agnes finish talking. She listened as the violinist told her about her parents, about how their religious views skewed their visions about mutants and mutant kind in general. And while the thought made Ashley angry, she couldn't very well have an opinion on that. For one, her power was completely hidden and unless someone asked (or was extracted from her, like with that crazy bitch that had kidnapped her) no one would know about it.

And overall, Ashley never had a run in with someone that was anti-mutant, not really anyways. Then again she never really paid attention. She'd heard of anti-mutant protests, seen them in person and only used them to pick pockets back in the day. But now she hand waved idiots like that away in the same way most of the world dismisses racism and bigotry; it's there, but...whatever, right?

But she's never seen the result of what such thinking could do to someone and for that Ashley felt like she had really dropped the ball. The person that, after meeting one and connecting with like she'd never connected with anyone else, was a subject of thinking that deserved punishment. She could barley hold back her own tears of anger. The redhead stood and gathered up Agnes into her arms, holding her tight. She didn't know what to do or say as she pulled back some, kissing the girl on the lips gently, reassuringly.

“Okay.” she whispered, pecking Agnes more. “Never leave. Okay? Not that bad.”

Ashley slipped down to her knees, hugging Agnes at her waist before pulling her face back and eying the scar on her stomach. It was grotesque, to be sure, but Ashley didn't mind. Like anything in this world, something (like Agnes' scar) can be interpreted in any way. So she smiled and leaned forward, kissing the crucifix scar before burying her face into Agnes' tummy, giving a small purr from the back of her throat.

“I think...” she said, looking up to Agnes. “That...maybe it led you. To me. Yeah?”

Another kiss and Ashley went back to hugging Agnes, smiling contently.

Agnes trembled as she stood there, her eyes closed and welling up with tears. She still could not believe that this was happening, that she was standing here in just her under clothes, showing off her scarred body to another young woman. The whole scene made her heart race, caused her to feel absolutely exposed and terrified. She wanted to curl up into a ball and hide herself away. Immediately she was beginning to feel regret for having done this. Rhythm was not going to want to have her now. She was stand, turn her back to her and leave her alone, just like she always imagined someone would.

She heard that intake of breathe, the sound of someone standing from a chair, and finally the gently fall of footsteps. They would be stirred away from her. Agnes knew it. She knew it was going to happen.

But then…the air shifted and suddenly she felt like she had someone standing extremely close to her. It was only after a few seconds of chiding herself mentally that she finally cautioned to open an eye. When she did…she breathed with relief.

Rhythm…she stood there. Slowly Agnes felt the redhead wrap her arms around her and pull her into a tight embrace. She sighed, took a sharp intake of breath and let her tears well up once more. Just the touch of her body on her skin made her want to be enveloped in her arms for the rest of her life. It was so intoxicating to be close to her, to feel her gently touches, especially the kiss she gave her trembling lips.

>> “Okay. Never leave. Okay? Not that bad.”

She sniffled. She knew that Rhythm was just being good-hearted, telling her that she her scarring was not bad. But…she knew it was. She knew it was bad and that she would be carrying these scars for the rest of her life. Yet she could not let that get to her. It was time to stop constantly lamenting her life and time to start living it. It would take convincing for her to every be okay with her markings..but the fact that Rhythm was so sweet about it and still wanted to be this close to her showed her how much she really cared.

The biggest surprise came when Rhythm slowly knelt down and was at eyelevel with the largest and most hideous scar on the stomach, that of the crucifix. Agnes for a half-second became extremely self-conscious. She wanted to move away, to slip away from her and cover up again. She showed her scars, she didn’t want them inspecte. But what surprised Agnes was that fact that Rhythm, still with her arms around her waist, leaned forward and pressed those gentle lips of hers against it.

The sensation cause a tingle in her stomach that nearly made her tip over. So tender it was, so tender in fact that Agnes just wanted to cry all over again. Never in her life had anyone made her feel so beautiful…so important…so frail and yet strong…

>> “I think...That...maybe it led you. To me. Yeah?”

Her blue eyes opening, she turned to look down to Rhythm and a smile finally formed across her face again. Reaching up, she wiped away the last of her tears and very slowly nodded her head.

“Y-Yeah…Maybe…” she whispered. The then reached down, carefully placed her hands underneath Rhythm’s arm to help her up onto her feet. Once she was standing, the runaway looked at her redheaded companion straight in the eye, then leaned up and pressed her lips once more against hers. “Thank you,” was all she whispered.

One kiss was followed by another and another, as tender, soft hands began to ever so gently paw at clothing. Agnes could not follow what happened next. All she knew was that one of them flicked the lights off and what came next was only what she could describe as bliss…

--=FADE TO BLACK=--

The offensive sun. It is the bane of many an existence. It shines in the eyes of those who do not want to awaken and heats up the warm blankets people find themselves wrapped in. It loves to intrude on happy mornings, break the spell that restful sleep ensnares people in and especially loves to remind that there is yet another day you have to get through before you can find peace. But in this room, this particular girl was unaffected.

On this morning, Agnes Nicholas, runaway, living hive, felt none of those discomforts. Instead she was wrapped up in her blankets, lying upon her side in utter peace and tranquility. Her pale skin was illuminated by the slanted rays of sun as it came in through the windows. The warm of that light was so sweet that Agnes did not feel discomforted at all. Instead, all she felt was comfort unlike anything she had ever known before. It was only as Agnes snuggled deeper into the white, fluffy pillow that she remembered what happened last night.

There was the feeling of another arm draped across her hips, another body pushed up against the curvature of her back and the warm, gently breathing of another sleeping person behind her; but she did not panic. It was what she wanted and she was simply happy that she didn’t leave before morning.

Nestling back a little in comfort, Agnes still refused to open her eyes but instead lay in that quiet darkness, listening to the sleeping of her companion. Gently she moved her hand over to hold the hand that hugged her so close. Still in bliss, Agnes cooed gently as she lay still, wanting sleep to overtake her again. She did not want this morning to end at all…

It had been a studying session, turned movie night, turned slumber party. Gina's every intent had been to return to her room once the books had been shut, to spend some time with Agnes, but her studying partners had pressured her out of it. They had called her a "killjoy" and a "party-pooper", and stated that if she didn't stay for the fun part, what had been the point in coming. Of course, the movie was three hours long and, despite how much caffeine they'd consumed, they all still crashed during the show. Gina awoke the next morning to the landing page of the DVD, disoriented yet rested. She'd been one of the first to fall asleep, and was curled up between the arm rest of the couch and another student.

She ran a hand through her hair, stifling a yawn as she sat up. The guy beside her was using her coiled tail as a pillow, and Gina giggled. She nudged him awake with a, "Hey, dude-- we fell asleep watching the movie!"

He jolted up-right, and commenced to shake the other four students awake. All the while, Gina got to her feet, stretched, and retrieved her textbook and notes, tucking her notes into the front of the book so as not to misplace them. She looked up, towards the clock, making note of the time-- it was about a half-hour before breakfast, and around the time that Agnes typically got out of bed. Gina was usually an early-riser, but last night had sapped her of any desire to get up early.

"Guys, I'm gonna go back to the room and see if I can't tame my hair," she reported, "See y'all at breakfast?" There was a chorus of mumbled affirmatives, and so Gina dismissed herself with a wave, crossing the common room and heading down the hall, sauntering towards her bedroom. The rooms were stirring with signs of life, by the sound of it, so Gina assumed that Agnes would at least be contemplating getting out of bed. She fished her room key out of her pocket, swinging it around her finger aimlessly as she continued her trek down the hall. She reached the door, trying the knob out of habit, and was slightly shocked to find it unlocked. Agnes was normally quite diligent about locking the door at night. She'd probably forgotten-- thinking little of it, Gina entered the room, closing the door with her tail. She was distractedly pocketting her keys and trying to keep a hold of her books, so she'd yet to notice the two girls in Agnes's bed. She had just dropped her book and notes on the bed when she finally looked up.

The first thing that Gina noticed was "out of place" was that there were two people in Agnes's bed-- the second, that the person that accompanied Agnes was also a girl-- the third, that they seemed to be rather in the nude, spare a few undergarments-- and the fourth, that Agnes was wide-awake, and looking right at her. Gina went deep, embarrassed red, but left speechless, as her mind slowly pieced things together. She may have been naive, but she knew that it meant something when two people were together in a bed, practically undressed. While she gaped wordlessly at her roommate, she also noticed the collection of scars that peeked over the edge of the blanket. It was all too much.

"Shit," Gina swore, a rather uncharacteristic sentiment. "I'm out of here." True to her word, she quickly turned-tail and walked right back out the door, slamming it shut behind her. If Agnes had called after her, or got up to follow her, Gina didn't know. Clad in day-old clothes and with hair that could do the 80's proud, Gina began stalking down the hall, away from the living room and towards one of few stairwells with roof access. Questions zinged through her head at a million miles per hour-- who was that girl that had been with Agnes, why was she in there room in Agnes's bed with her, and why did she seem so familiar? And what was with those friggin' scars?!

She reached the stairwell, disappeared through the heavy door and began ascending the staircase as the questions took a different turn-- why hadn't Agnes told her about any of this at all? She wasn't the type to just find somebody and spontaneouly bring them to their dorm room, that girl had to mean something to her. For some, this romantic preference would have been hard to grasp, but Gina was Agnes's friend, her best friend-- didn't she trust her enough to at least "come out" about it? And what about the scars? Her memory flashed back to the shopping trip, and suddenly it just all made sense. The stairs narrowed as she got closer to the roof, and she made the final few steps until she got to the roof, her sanctuary.

The gravel, the blinding sunlight, and the cool wind whipping around her-- no matter what, it was always the same, here atop the roof. So predictable, with each turning season, and never anything more than what you made it out to be. Gina stalked to its edge and looked out over the grounds, inhaling the fresh morning air.

Her hormones had gotten the better of her now-- she was embarassed and confused, though deep down she knew exactly what had happened, and what she had seen-- she might have been naive, but she wasn't stupid. And, on the other hand, she was disappointed, maybe even a touch annoyed, that her sister hadn't even hinted at any of this at all. Didn't she trust her? Weren't they best friends? She folded her arms, letting the disappointment and the medley of other emotions drift into numbness. She probably had her reasons. And, though Gina would like to be the solver for anyone's problems, she couldn't be the go-to gal for everying. God, if only she were allowed off-campus, right now. There was still a week to her house-arrest, and it'd be so much easier to shut things out if she could physically leave the Mansion.

Gina paced anxiously, her heart doing an erratic dance in her chest. Agnes would be sure to follow, eventually, and sure to eventually find her. Gina was always up on the roof, so Agnes would probably be well-aware of where she'd gone to. Gina's stomach growled tremendously, as if to remind her that it wanted breakfast, but she quieted it with a hand. Breakfast would have to wait.

She didn't wake up like this. Not ever.

But she was awake now, and the feeling of Agnes nest to her was a feeling like none other. Inside Ashley was doing a victory dance for herself, because...well god damn it she felt so damn happy that there was little else she could do. She clung to her girlfriend, pulling her close and wanting a repeat performance of the previous night. It was...addicting, to say the least, something she wanted to do over and over again, to perfect their dance, to make Agnes feel better and better. As it was she felt like a clumsy ox, but somehow she knew Agnes felt the same way.

It was a learning experience...a good one.

She pondered what to do or how to bring it up. Certainly not just blurt it out, right? Was there, like, some sort of unwritten rules on how to go about asking your significant other if they wanted to make love again? The redhead pondered this, feeling Agnes stir next to her. She calmed herself, her raging libido going down a few notches as she stroked her lover's shoulder a bit before letting it drape across her. This was nice in itself, just being close to her. Nothing wrong with that...

Unless someone sees you. And, for some reason, runs.

“Eh?” Was Ashley's brilliant response to the quick enter/exit of whoever was at Agnes' door. The musician couldn't do much else except prop herself up on one elbow and stare after at the door, then back down to her slightly green-skinned lover with a bewildered expression. “Who's that?”

Agnes was enraptured, to say the least. The quiet and calm morning, the feeling of Rhythm sleeping and holding her close next to her, the gently song of the morning birds outside. It was all just so lovely and peaceful and tranquil. She never knew that she could have a morning or a life like this. It felt so calming and comfortable, nothing like when she lived at home and definitely not like when she used to live in the streets. It was a feeling of security, of real affection, or safety that she simply had never had before. All of it just caused a small blush to appear on her cheeks that she could feel this amount of ecstasy and bliss from a single evening and morning.

Feeling Rhythm stir, Agnes inadvertently smiled as she snuggled deeper into her pillow. She wanted to sleep just a tad longer but apparently her internal clock was not going to allow her that privilege. But still, that didn’t mean she could not just lie there in the arms of her lover, did it? No, she would rest, she would relax, and she would take this morning as slowly as it needed to be taken.

…At least that was the plan. But everyone knows that the best laid plans always go downhill.

As her eyelids fluttered open, her blue eyes scanned the room closely, not really looking for anything in particular, simply looking. But as she did so, her tiny world of comfort and tranquility came to an end. And it all ended with the sound of a door opening.

Agnes briefly say up on her elbow and watched as Gina suddenly walked in through her door, their door. A curse fluttered through her mind as she watched the expression on the young gargoyle’s face. That look of confusion, understanding, and finally just plain betrayal. Every second that they said nothing to each other Agnes felt a pang of pain in her heart. She never wanted Gina to find anything like this about herself like this! It was bad enough that she had been hiding her orientation for so long, but on top of that, the runaway was sure that Gina could see the scars now. As effective as Agnes attempted to hold up the blanket, it apparently was not fully effective and left a lot exposed.

This was not going well.

“Gi-“ she started to say, but was quickly interrupted by the gargoyle herself.

>> "Shit…I'm out of here."

“N-No. Gina!” Agnes attempted to protest. But the words fell out of her mouth a few moments too late and a few decibels too low.

Sadly she watched as Gina slammed the door closed and disappeared out into the hall. She half thought of getting up to chase after her but she could not find the will to do it. The look on Gina’s face, the betrayal she must have felt was too much for her to grasp. Her adopted little sister needed to calm down, she needed to be alone for the moment before Agnes even attempted to talk to her. She loved Gina too much to let this rend them apart but she needed time to think of what to tell her. Especially since she had kept so much secret…

>> “Eh?...Who's that?”

Turning around in bed, she spied the inquisitive look in Rhythm’s face. What a way to wake up in the morning. Agnes turned to look her in the eyes, some sadness locked onto her own face. Leaning forward she very softly kissed the redhead on her forward as she stroked her cheek.

“My sister, Gina.” Agnes said a bit mournfully. “She…She…didn’t know…about any of this.” the runaway whispered as she motioned to both Rhythm and to her own scars. “I…should have told her. A long time ago…I should have told her…” she muttered as she scooted down a bit and rested her head against Rhythm’s chest. The sound of her lover’s heartbeat calmed her a tiny bit. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to you or any of this a secret…”