Chapter 1: The Painter

Clea surveyed the pancake house crowd from the corner of the room, her position on a raised level of coffee tables giving her a clear view of the majority of the shop's occupants. The faces in the crowd were methodically absorbed and compared with the ideal image she held in her head. Each face was then discarded as inferior and she moved on to contemplate the next one, frustrated with the lack of suitable candidates in this city. She'd been to numerous locations over the past two weeks: posh clubs, trendy restaurants and the like, all with the same goal in mind. She was searching for beauty. Not the artificial kind found in air brushed and computer generated images, but true, living beauty.

Clea Vermeer was used to beauty. It surrounded her in her home, at work, at the parties she visited, and in the people she knew. She dealt in it really, made her living from transferring the essence of the beauty of the human form from flesh to canvas. She was famous for it, revered by thousands because of her art. With their reverence came the demand for higher standards, the need to take what she'd produced previously and go beyond it. She needed to find a beauty, either male or female, which surpassed all her previous models. This was not an easy task. No one Clea saw met the image she had in her head. She wanted someone who was more than just a pretty face. Clea wanted to find a new kind of beauty, one that wasn't already plastered across magazine covers and movie screens. She wanted something new, something fresh, something out of the ordinary. But what she wanted wasn't here.

Sighing, Clea drained the last of her café mocha and tossed the plastic cup in the trash as she started to leave. When she walked past the counter she spotted a young girl bent over her cell phone at a far table, her hunched form partially obscured by the crowd of people waiting in line to order.

Clea stopped and studied the girl; her interest peaked as she sensed potential. The girl was slender and thin looking from what Clea could see above the table. Her head was lowered. Hair that was almost blacker than black fell down to hide her face. Clea guessed the girl's hair to be about shoulder length and very straight in the way it fell. As she watched, a hand reached up to push a few vagrant strands behind her ear, but they fell back to the same position shortly after the hand was removed. The plaid skirt and white shirt and tie marked her as a high school student as much as the textbooks sitting next to her, the wear evident on the covers giving her the impression of a studious young schoolgirl. She was in her early teens from what Clea could tell, though she still retained the look of a child in some aspects. A backpack was sprawled at her feet, and an unidentifiable drink was placed farther back on the table to avoid accidental spillage.

Clea moved forward slowly, casually approaching the girl she'd set as her new target. She twisted a chair around next to the teen and sank into it with a brief greeting.

"Hello."

The young girl started at Clea's sudden appearance, Clea's speech jolting her from her single-minded concentration on the cell phone screen. She looked around hesitantly, as if to verify that Clea wasn't speaking to someone else, and then settled her gaze on Clea's features.

Clea smiled as the girl looked at her. She had a round face with pale skin that seemed as if it would be incredibly smooth to touch. Eyes the colour of melted chocolate stared at her in surprise and it was then that she noticed the girl's subtle Asian features. Her impossibly straight hair hung to her shoulders, and her dark, slightly tilted eyes were framed and almost covered by bangs so severe they seemed slashed with a razor. She was beautiful. No, she was stunning and Clea knew she was looking at her new model.

"Can I help you?" The girl's voice was distant and timid; the question asked more out of general politeness than any real interest.

Clea smiled at the girl, her charm in full force as she gazed at the teen. She knew what the girl would see when she looked at Clea. Her golden blonde hair was gathered in a ponytail that fell down to the small of her back. Sparkling blue eyes shined at her target, filled with warmth. She was dressed to kill in a blue silken blouse that highlighted her eyes, worn half-open to reveal a clinging white top underneath. Black pants hugged her thighs, though they were mostly hidden from the girl's view under the table.

"I'd like you to be my model."

"I'm not interested," the schoolgirl instantly dropped her gaze back to the cell phone, completely ignoring Clea's presence.

Clea was not phased; she'd dealt with resistance before. "My name's Clea Vermeer. I'm an artist. I can make you famous."

"I'm not interested. Please leave me alone," the girl didn't even look up from her cell phone as she spoke quietly.

Clea smiled. She liked challenges. If the target played hard to get, then that just made Clea's eventual victory all the more sweet. And she would get what she wanted, guaranteed. Clea Vermeer could be incredibly patient when she wanted to be. She leaned forward to speak softly in the girl's ear, her breath tickling the hair there.

"I really want you to be my new model. I won't take 'no' for an answer."

The teen jerked back quickly and clapped a hand over her ear. A light blush stained her cheeks and Clea realised another potential use for the young girl. Her smile turned into a smirk as her scouting instincts rose. The girl before her was quite attractive, a rare beauty if somewhat on a young side. As Clea took another look at the teenager, she knew she wanted her as more than just a model. She wanted to see the girl's blush repeated many more times, though preferably in situations that had the younger girl in her arms and her delicate lips pressed against Clea's own.

They stared at each other for several moments before the younger girl burst into action, sweeping her books and cell phone into her bag and standing in one swift motion. The girl practically ran out the door, and Clea let her. She'd seen a flicker of emotion cross the child's face and it intrigued her. Perhaps her advances weren't entirely misplaced. Clea's eyes gave the retreating little figure a quick scan and stored the image in her memory so that she'd be able to recognise the schoolgirl wherever Clea next saw her.

Clea had found what she'd been searching for: a girl of uncommon beauty. She didn't have the type of looks found in normal models, all glam and sparkling beauty. Hers was a more subtle Oriental beauty that needed the right kind of attention to bring it to light. It was internalised, showing only in subtle hints on the outside. She would look ravishing when captured by Clea's paintbrush.

Standing, Clea followed after the younger girl, her gaze stuck on the slight form moving along the street farther ahead of her. She was determined to win her over; she must in order to satisfy her own need for beauty. It was just a matter of time before she'd convince the teen to be hers and only hers. Now that she knew what she wanted she could take her time, invite the girl right where Clea wanted and then entice her. And when Clea did entice her.... She smiled widely at the thought, already planning what to do to her little model. She would learn very quickly that Clea Vermeer always got what she wanted.

Chapter 2: The Schoolgirl

Amii Nakagawa looked up as someone called her name and she mentally winced as she saw a familiar blonde woman waiting for her at the pancake shop ahead of her. She knew turning around wouldn't work. She'd tried that before and the persistent artist had just followed her. Over the past two weeks she'd been running into Clea daily, far too frequently to be considered mere coincidence. At first she'd been annoyed. Why did someone like Clea have to involve herself in Amii's life? She didn't want that kind of attention from a complete stranger. As much as the painter proclaimed her beautiful, Amii didn't believe a word of it. Clea was the beautiful one, that was easy enough to see, but the way she behaved scared her. Amii was just a normal person, with enough of her own problems to worry about without having a mad painter stalking her. All she wanted was to be left alone, to lose herself in books and to go back to having the painter ignore her like everyone else did.

"Hey," Clea fell in step with Amii as she walked past, her intention to ignore the blonde woman's existence failing as Clea tried to wind her arm around Amii's hand. Amii sidestepped to avoid the move, her reaction almost automatic considering how many times Clea had tired that trick. "How was your day?"

The question had surprised her the first time Clea had asked, as had the sincerity with which the woman had asked it. Normally only her family members bothered to ask things like that.

"It was alright." Their actions had become routine, replayed countless times in the short while they'd known each other. At some point Clea had learned her name and picked up Amii's daily routine.

Amii hesitated for a second, as she always did, her token resistance before the manners her mother had instilled in her took over.

"And yours?"

Clea smiled at her blindingly, "Much better now that I'm with you."

Amii would have been flattered if she hadn't already heard the same line every day for the past two weeks. Besides, she'd known the comment was empty the first time she'd heard it. Clea didn't care about her, she was probably just some pervert her parents had warned her about, trying to get into Amii's pants. Why anyone would go to so much trouble just for a quick tumble with a kid like herself confused her. Clea didn't seem like a professional artist to her.

A tug on her sleeve caught her attention and Amii gave Clea a questioning look. Clea pointed to a small coffee shop ahead of them on the other side of the street.

"Let's go have a drink. My treat."

"If you wanted coffee, why didn't you get some earlier?"

Clea's smile looked like it belonged on a child's face, full of innocence that Amii couldn't believe was real.

"Because this store has some really delicious cake."

Amii sighed. "You make it sound like I actually have a choice in the matter."

Clea smirked at her playfully and grabbed Amii's wrist lightly. "Of course you don't."

Amii let herself be pulled along. It wasn't worth trying to argue over the matter with Clea. Amii knew she'd lose anyways. She always did.

The line at the coffee shop was a little long. As they waited to order, Amii's thoughts took a serious tone.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Her voice was lowered to avoid those near them in line catching the conversation, her tone devoid of emotion.

Clea's gaze was fixed on the menu ahead of them as she spoke, and she looked like she was giving her full attention to considering what to order. Her tone matched Amii's in seriousness, "Because I want you to be my model."

"My parents won't let me."

"I bet you haven't even asked them."

Amii snorted and looked away towards the scattered tables inside the shop, not really seeing them. "And I'm sure once you got me inside your 'studio' you'd just try to molest me."

Clea's tone changed to one of outrage and Amii could see the hurt look on the painter's face from the corner of her eye.

"Of course not. I'd never do such a thing."

"I'll believe that when you get your hand off my ass," Amii belatedly realised her voice had risen back to a normal speaking level when the old lady in front of them half-turned to give them a startled look. Amii looked at the floor with a slight blush.

Clea stuck her hands in her pockets. "Would it be so bad to step into my studio, just once?"

Amii's answer was automatic. "Yes!"

For once Clea looked directly at her without a smile on her face. "What are you so afraid of?"

The words were low, heard only by the two of them, but they made Amii freeze in place. What did the painter know about her? Nothing. She had no right to assume.... Realising she'd unconsciously clenched her fists, Amii forced herself to relax.

"I'm leaving."

Amii stepped out of line quickly before Clea could react. As soon as she was out the door, she fled.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Amii was out of breath by the time she arrived home. She let herself in with a key from her pocket, the lack of cars in the driveway telling her she was the first one home. Her mom would still be at the hospital, just getting off the morning shift. Her stepfather would get out of work in two hours. She took her school bag directly to her bedroom after neatly placing her shoes in a corner of the entranceway.

Her room was sparse, hardly decorated and mostly devoid of furnishings. Her furniture was all made of wood, a light oak that went well with the creamy pink walls and their white trim. Her bed was piled with blankets that formed a layer about half as thick as she was tall. A small bedside table held a sturdy blue lamp, plastic so that it didn't break if it accidentally got knocked over. Amii tended to have a lot of accidents.

A large closet took up most of the wall opposite the bed, though it was barely half-full of clothing. Everything in it was long sleeved. Amii had stopped wearing shorts and t-shirts a long time ago. She preferred clothing that covered her from head to toe, much to her mother's disappointment. She always said she should show off her body more, that she was going to overheat in such heavy clothing, even though Amii never did. The majority of the space in the closet was taken up by boxes filled with items she didn't need out in the open for daily use.

The only decorations in the room were two pictures hung on the walls, one of Mount Fuji, its peak covered with snow and another of sakura tree in full bloom. The pictures were special to her; they'd been two of the last things her father had bought for her before he'd died four years ago when she was ten. She liked them because they relaxed her and reminded her of the country her father came from. Something about them always seemed to calm her. The sakura tree one had shattered once when it fell off the wall, but Amii had had it reframed the next day.

Amii removed her cell phone from its slot in her backpack, returning it to its normal spot on her desk. Her textbooks were piled next to it, subjects she had homework in at the top of the stack to be completed before the night was over. She pulled open the first book, a math textbook, and flipped to the pages her homework problems were from. She stared at the first problem without seeing it for several moments, her mind refusing to focus on the text in front of her and instead concentrating on a certain infuriating blonde woman.

Giving up with a sigh, she let her head fall to rest on her open math text. It wasn't that she didn't like the woman. Despite her annoying tendencies, she didn't seem like a bad person. She was self-centred, arrogant, and determined to have her own way, but that didn't make her bad. Just selfish. Amii smiled to herself. It was kind of endearing, the way Clea followed her around all the time like a puppy. Even if the woman's attention was shallow, it was still nice to have someone paying so much attention to her. It made her feel... special. Like she wasn't just some insignificant little person lost in a crowd.

Amii sighed. If circumstances had been different she might have considered giving in to Clea's requests. But she was scared; she had good reason to be. Her stepfather did not like homosexuality in any form. He'd nearly broken up with Amii's mother when he'd found out her daughter liked girls instead of boys, but they'd managed to work things out. Amii didn't want to do anything to jeopardise her mother's happiness, so she'd stopped talking about her feelings after her mother had gotten remarried, telling her she simply didn't have anyone she liked at the moment. Her mother kept encouraging her to find a nice girl she could be friends with, regardless. But if her stepfather caught her being friends with another girl... the consequences would not be good. So she had no choice but to remain alone and friendless. Things were easier for her that way, for many reasons.

Chapter 3: A Challenge

"What's a cute kid like you doing all alone?"

Amii ignored the tall blonde painter as she sat next to her on the park bench. She had an English text open in her lap, but she doubted she'd be able to concentrate on it now that Clea had shown up. An arm snaked its way around her shoulders and rested on the back of the park bench. Amii ignored it. Clea was just trying to get her to react. The best way she'd found to get rid of annoyances was to ignore them, but for some reason her usual tactics weren't working on Clea. Probably because she wasn't really trying.

"Don't you have any friends?"

Amii looked up in surprise at the comment and then quickly looked away. "That's none of your business."

Amii felt Clea's arm twitch slightly behind her back as the woman shrugged. "I'm sorry, it was rude of me. But you're always walking alone or studying by yourself every time I see you. Must be lonely, living like that."

Amii stared absently at the text and shrugged, "Not really. You get used to it."

Amii's personality didn't make it easy for others to get near her. In school, she'd always been described as cold and boring. But not only did she act differently, with her coal-black hair and Asian eyes, she also looked different from everyone else. No one had ever bothered to get close to her, and Amii's own poor social skills didn't help the matter. She didn't know how to handle people, so even if she did try to make friends she'd just mess everything up. After all her failed relationships in middle and high school, she'd given up. She was better off alone anyways.

Clea frowned a little. "What if I was your friend?"

Amii blushed and glared at the woman sitting beside her, slightly hurt. "Don't make fun of me," she closed her textbook with a snap and shoved it into her book bag.

Standing, Amii tried to stalk off but a hand on her wrist stopped her. She whirled to glare at Clea. The serious expression on the artist's face muted her anger.

"I'm not making fun of you, Amii."

Clea's tone was low, sincere. Amii stared at the ground. She wanted to believe the woman holding her hand, but she seemed so flippant all the time. It was hard to be certain that she was serious. She didn't resist as Clea stood so that their faces were only centimetres apart. Clea studied Amii's face, her eyes hard.

"You are always so serious. What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything." It was an empty protest, they both knew it.

Suddenly she was being spun around and forced down on the park bench. Amii didn't have a chance to react to the movement. She blinked and found herself sitting on the bench with Clea holding her hands down on the seat of the bench. Clea's face loomed above her, their gazes locked. The lack of pressure on her hands surprised Amii as much as her own sudden breathlessness. Her mind went blank and she simply stared at the woman emotionlessly.

"If you're not afraid, then why won't you model for me?" Clea's voice was melted honey over cold steel. Ice blue eyes seemed to stare straight through her. "If you're not afraid, then it won't be a problem for you to come to my studio, just once."

Amii swallowed, hard, and tried to not feel so much like a cornered rabbit.

"Just once, and then you'll leave me alone?"

Clea nodded solemnly.

Amii considered her options, thought about it carefully. If all she had to do was show up at Clea's studio once and then she was free again, why was she waiting? Clea was offering her a chance to escape her constant presence, a chance to be all by herself again. She could have the painter gone from her life once more. She could go back to being alone once more. That's what she wanted, right?

"Or are you afraid?"

There wasn't any harm in it. Her stepfather couldn't object about a single painting.

Amii made up her mind. "I'm not afraid. I'll do it, once. Only once. Just so I can get you out of my life again."

Clea smirked at her and Amii got the distinct impression that she'd somehow lost, though she wasn't sure how.

"Good," Clea pulled away, acting nothing like the woman that had pinned Amii to the bench seconds earlier. She dropped a small piece of paper in Amii's lap. "This is my card. Stop by sometime tomorrow after school, whenever you're free."

Amii glanced down at the small white card, seemingly incongruous with Clea's existence in its plain austerity. An address was listed in bold font in the centre of the card. Amii looked up to make a comment to Clea but the blonde painter was already gone.

Chapter 4: A Sleeping Beauty

Clea smiled as she heard the doorbell ring. That would be Amii, her reluctant beauty, about to step into Clea's world. She was looking forward to their session. She had to try and convince Amii to come back to her after just one painting. She had to entice the girl enough that Clea could eventually work her to the point Clea wanted her: naked and in bed.

Getting her here had been the easy part, once she'd found which buttons to press to make Amii react. It was like a challenge for her, a contest. Without the challenging element Clea wasn't sure if she'd be as interested. It added something to the conquest, a sense of triumph and the consent of her model. In some ways she was more attracted to Amii's defiance than anything else, it was a refreshing change from the normal models that jumped at her every whim. Amii was a beautiful girl certainly, but Clea had pretty much any beauty she wanted at her disposal. She wasn't in love with Amii. The sheer idea of being in love with a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl was extraordinarily absurd to her. She just wanted the girl's body, wanted to study and paint one of the few people that resisted her. And maybe something else on the side, but whatever it was, it certainly wasn't love.

Smiling, Clea pulled open the door and ushered Amii into her lavish apartment. She left the door unlocked so that Amii could remain at ease. No need in scaring the girl off. Amii was tense, Clea could tell by the stiff way she held herself. Over the past few weeks Clea had become an expert at reading Amii's mannerism, not a hard task considering the schoolgirl's social ineptitude. She didn't seem to know how to mask what she was actually feeling.

Amii was interesting, in a strange way. She was shy and polite outwardly, quiet and timid but with an unapproachable exterior as if she held herself away from the rest of the world. And she was never rude even when provoked. The teen's temper was a source of amusement for Clea, as buried as it was under the girl's cold and serious exterior. Her ethnicity shone through in the way she restrained her feelings and hid them from people around her. Clea would often do something that angered Amii, just so she could see the spark of temper hiding inside her, yet never coming out to surface and for some strange reason it made her even more captivating in Clea's eyes.

The girl looked around awkwardly and Clea stepped forward to lead the teen through her sparse living room and into her spacious bedroom. Amii balked at first, but Clea pointed to the canvas and easel set up to their left.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to molest you. It's just easier for me to paint people in here, there's more space to work with."

The comment was true for the most part; it was easiest for her to work from her bedroom. It also gave her her best chance at seducing Amii. The girl gave her a disbelieving look but she didn't protest.

"Lie down on the bed, facing me, however you feel comfortable."

Amii complied wordlessly, lying on the bed stiffly with her nervous eyes glued on Clea. The artist was surprised how docile Amii was being. The girl probably just wanted to get this over with as fast as possible so that she could leave.

"Are you comfortable?"

Amii nodded silently.

Walking over to the CD player on her dresser, Clea pressed play. Classical music filled the room, low and soothing. It was designed to help the teenager relax, to calm her enough that Clea could paint a more natural picture.

Amii gave her a quizzical look but said nothing as Clea squirted a bit of creamy blue onto her palette and began recreating the fall of her bed sheets on the canvas before her. Clea concentrated on her work, smiling to herself as she noticed Amii slowly relaxing. She could tell the girl was trying to force herself to stay alert and losing the battle. In the end, the quiet tones of the music had won over Amii's consciousness and she was asleep before the painting was half finished.

Clea was glad she'd saved the face for last. Amii looked so precious when she was sleeping, the worried lines of her face washed away to give her a look of innocence and purity. She knew some rich lady was just going to adore the painting, it should fetch her a good price. Clea faded out the background of the painting a bit, adding tones of white to give the piece a more surreal, angelic feel. Smiling to herself, she admired her work and then set it aside to begin her next task.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Amii was dreaming. She'd never felt this relaxed when she was awake, though she couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so well either. She was warm, cushioned on a blue cloud with a heavy warm blanket on top of her. And there were soft lips pressed against her, a moist tongue demanding deeper access. Dreams like this weren't new to her, and she gave in to the other mouth's demands, deciding to make the most of her dream before her alarm clock went off.

Her arms rose to encircle strong shoulders as she melted beneath an insistent mouth, small noises of pleasure escaping her lips as she felt another girl's tongue exploring through her mouth. The fact that she was on blue sheets seemed odd to her, her sheets should be dark green, but she knew without looking that she was lying on top of blue ones. She ignored that for a moment, it was probably just another inconsistency of the dreaming world. Her mind went blank as the invading tongue caressed the roof of her mouth, and she shivered. Whoever she was dreaming of was certainly a good kisser.

Hands were trailing over her body now, inside her school shirt and along the sides of her legs. Her eyes lazily opened to take in the wispy blonde bangs tickling her face and a long blonde ponytail falling over one shoulder to pool on the bed beside them. Blue eyes filled with lust sparkled down at her smugly as they broke apart and Amii gasped for air.

Amii's eyes widened as she realised that she wasn't dreaming and she tried to push the other person off of her. Clea was.... They had been....

Amii reacted blindly, her first instinct being to run out of there before Clea did something else to her.

Her hands were caught before she could struggle free and Clea pinned her to the bed.

"Get off me," the demand sounded weak, even to her own ears.

"No," Clea leaned over her until their noses nearly touched and their breath mingled.

Amii struggled once more, though she knew it was in vain. No amount of force could move Clea off of her. She twisted underneath the painter, trying anything to wiggle her way to freedom, but it didn't work.

Panting, she waited to catch her breath before speaking again. "Please, get off me. I'm scared."

"You liked it, Amii."

"No!" That wasn't something Amii wanted to think about at the moment.

Clea leaned down so that their lips brushed against each other briefly. Her eyes were half-closed and distracted. "I'll let you go if you can honestly say you didn't like that."

"I didn't like it." Amii knew the words were hollow even as she said them.

"Say it so that I believe you."

Clea's mouth descended on her before she could respond. Her words were swallowed and she felt herself reacting almost involuntarily to Clea's kiss. She was giving in and she knew it. She couldn't help it, not when it had been so long since another girl had touched her like this, particularly one as gorgeous as Clea. She wanted it too, on some deep level that told her consciousness to take a hike. She reacted, she didn't have a choice not to as her body rebelled against her.

Clea abandoned Amii's mouth to trace wet kisses along her neck. Teeth grazed her earlobe and Amii turned her head to the side to give Clea better access, shivering with pleasure. Her hands were released so that Clea could run her hands over Amii's small body again and Amii gasped, her body awash in so many different and confusing sensations.

Clea leaned back with a smirk and Amii used that opportunity to quickly push the blonde painter to the side. Amii was out the door before Clea could voice her protest. The door slamming shut as the painter rose in pursuit but Amii was gone by the time Clea reached the hallway.

Chapter 5: Loneliness

Amii walked down the street, her eyes absently scanning the street ahead of her. Her eyes strayed to the coffee shop ahead of her, but there was no familiar figure waiting there for her. As she walked past, she couldn't help looking inside the shop and intently scanning its patrons. True to her word, Clea had left Amii alone after Amii had modelled for her over a week ago. But now that she was alone, she knew she didn't want to be. She kept expecting Clea to pop out and surprise her somehow, kept hoping she'd turn a corner and find Clea waiting for her.

She should be accustomed to being alone. For the past three years at least she'd been by herself. It was something she was familiar with. It's what she'd thought she'd wanted, for her own good. But now that everything was over, she'd changed her mind. She'd gotten a taste of something better than what she had and she couldn't stop herself from wanting more. She hadn't realised how lonely she had been until Clea was gone.

It was strange, thinking of the painter like that. When Clea had been around she'd been an annoyance, but at least she'd been there. She was someone who kept Amii company despite how cold and distant Amii could be. She was someone she could talk to. Amii even missed the way Clea teased her, confused her, angered her. She felt so many mixed emotions when she was near Clea, and she was only now beginning to sort them out. She didn't dislike the painter but she hated herself for wanting Clea around. It was more than just the woman's presence that she wanted.

Turning down a side lane, Amii found the secluded park bench that she often sat at. Sinking down onto the wood and metal, she let her hand rest lightly against her closed lips. Clea had made her interest in Amii more than obvious. It was clear in the way she constantly touched Amii, often in very inappropriate ways. But the kisses... they had been something else entirely. She could still remember the heat of Clea above her, their breath mixing, and Clea's tongue in her mouth. The memory made her shiver and she blushed slightly. She'd known she was attracted to the woman from the moment they'd met, that much was obvious. Who wouldn't be attracted to Clea's good looks? But she hadn't realised how attracted she was until Clea had kissed her. Amii had enjoyed it. A lot. More than she remembered enjoying kissing anyone in school.

She wanted to be with Clea again. She wanted to go back to having Clea near her, having Clea pay attention to her. But she didn't know if Clea still wanted her. Sure the painter had said repeatedly how much she wanted Amii as her model, but Amii had always thought that was just a ploy to lure her into bed with her. And she'd gotten Amii in bed, just not the way either of them had thought.

Amii looked down at her hands as they absently toyed with a small white card. Even if Clea still wanted her, there was the problem of her stepfather. If he found out.... But how much longer could Amii keep denying herself a relationship? If not Clea, then she'd eventually find someone else she liked. And her stepfather didn't necessarily have to find out. He worked from nine to five, so as long as Amii was home before five then he'd never know. It was usual for Amii to be out on weekend mornings, normally saying she had a project to work on or that she was studying in the library. She could at least try, right? As long as her stepfather didn't find out there was no harm in it, and Amii was very good at hiding things if she wanted to. She'd had a lot of practice.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Clea turned the TV off and listened, wondering if she'd imagined the sound. She heard a second knock and stood swiftly to answer the door. She was surprised to find Amii standing on the other side of the door, her eyes bashfully downcast, looking at the floor with blush on her cheeks. Clea smiled widely and stepped to the side to let Amii enter if she so chose.

"Good afternoon."

Amii walked in without looking at Clea, her gaze absent. She was silent for several moments and Clea let her take her time.

"Do you still want me as a model?"

Clea nodded, though Amii's back was to her. Stepping forward, she entwined her arms around Amii's shoulders. Amii tensed, as Clea had expected her to, but she didn't step away.

"I do."

"Then I'll be your model." The young girl relaxed slightly in her arms and Clea let herself grin from joy at having her little model back.

"Wonderful!" Clea let her cheer show in her voice. That meant Amii wasn't upset about what Clea had done earlier. Taking the girl's presence in her apartment as an invitation, Clea leaned down to kiss Amii's cheek. She delighted in the shiver and small intake of breath caused by Clea's lips on bare flesh, her tongue slipping out to lightly taste Amii's skin.

She broke away after a second to whisper into Amii's ear, "Does that mean you're interested in being more than just my model?" Clea let her right hand brush across Amii's stomach and felt the skin tighten through the fabric of the schoolgirl's shirt.

"Y- Yes."

Clea's smile widened and she gently spun the girl to face her. One hand tilted Amii's chin up so that the girl faced her, downcast eyes now focusing on Clea's own. Clea leaned forward slowly, her own eyes focused on the pink of Amii's lips. She stopped a breath short of her goal and felt the teen's breathing quicken in excitement. Clea's tongue darted out to trace across Amii's lips and she placed her hands on Amii's shoulders to hold the girl still, feeling her tremble as Clea moistened her lips. Both of their eyes drifted shut as Clea pushed her tongue into Amii's mouth before bridging the gap between them with sealed lips. Amii melted against her and Clea knew she'd won. Amii was hers now, beyond a doubt. Clea was certain she would enjoy her precious prize.

Chapter 6: Her Model

Amii held her body perfectly still while her eyes followed Clea's every movement. Brush in hand, Clea alternated her intense gaze between Amii's form and the canvas in front of her. Amii loved Clea's eyes, particularly when they were focused solely on her. It was intoxicating and overwhelming at the same time. This was the fifth painting she'd posed for, and each time Clea had convinced her to bare more skin. Of course she'd give a token protest, and then Clea would swoop down and bury her protests under kisses that left Amii wanting so much more. Then Clea would have Amii right where she wanted her, showing more skin than before and without the presence of mind to protest.

She didn't mind, she only protested so that Clea would kiss her like that. Not that Clea needed any provocation to start making out with Amii, they did that frequently enough. It was more of a game for her. A way to pretend that she wasn't softening under Clea's hot mouth and insistent touches. One thing Amii had been adamant about was that Clea not leave any marks. Clea had pouted slightly at first, but Amii had explained that her stepfather didn't know she liked girls, and that she didn't want him to find out. Reluctantly, Clea had agreed.

Amii had started spending almost the entirety of her free time, between when she got done with classes and when she had to be home, with Clea. The painter would meet her after school and they'd simply be together. Sometimes they talked and sometimes they just sat quietly while Amii did her homework and Clea painted. More often than not they ended up in Clea's apartment with Amii pressed against some random piece of furniture while Clea explored the limits of the boundaries Amii had set. And then Amii would have to break things off so she could be home by five to eat dinner with her family. Her stepfather insisted on it, and he would be furious if Amii was so much as a minute late.

Barely two weeks together and Amii knew she was changing. She was opening up more for certain; she'd started talking to Clea about her past and her daily life. Amii was also learning about Clea though the painter rarely talked about her past much. And there were other things Amii had picked up just from observing Clea, like the woman's fondness for making every one of her paintings blatantly erotic and sensual. For instance, Amii was currently draped across the living room floor on her stomach, her white school cotton shirt fully unbuttoned and off one shoulder. A small portion of her lower back was exposed due to the fall of her plaid skirt, and her legs were partially spread. One arm was bent above her and the other bare arm stretched out to the side. A large bruise on her back from when she'd collided with the edge of her desk the previous night was strategically covered by her shirt, another smaller bruise covered by her remaining sleeve.

Clea had asked her about the bruises several days ago, after she'd worked up a corner of Amii's shirt while they were making out and she'd found a large fading mark on Amii's side. Clea questioned her every time a new bruise appeared but Amii's demeanor switched instantly from the cheerful schoolgirl she often acted like to an intensely serious gaze at even the slightest mention of black-and-blue on her skin. As she'd told Clea, being a klutz with pale skin, accidents came looking for her. And every time Clea tried to question her further, she'd kiss Clea and let their mouths take away the painter's worries. If Clea could distract her with kisses, then she could do the same to Clea.

Memories of their first kiss still echoed in her head, to be replayed at night when she was stuck alone in her bedroom. For the moment, kissing was all Amii would let Clea do. Not that Clea listened to her much. The painter's slender hands had mapped out the shape of Amii's body long ago, but Amii refused to let her school uniform come off and Clea had accepted that for now. But she could tell Clea was getting impatient and Amii's own resolve was rapidly crumbling. She wanted it as much as Clea did, to let Clea completely inside of her heart. It'd been so long since the last relationship with a girl from her sixth grade class. She knew Clea would make her feel good, she already drove Amii's head into the clouds with her kisses.

But she was afraid. What if Clea was just after sex? There were the paintings, yes, but from the start Clea had also been trying to get into Amii's pants the same time as she was convincing her to be a model. Amii was afraid if it ever comes to that, Clea wouldn't want her anymore. She hated the fact that she was only fourteen and probably a burden to Clea. She didn't want to go back to being alone again. She'd already been through that once and she knew how horrible it would be a second time, how lonely it would be. More than anything, she didn't want to go back to being friendless, lonely and ignored. Everyone she ever cared about always left her. Her father had died when she was only ten. She had had no friends and her only girlfriend in the sixth grade had broken up with her after less than a month. For the longest time it had just been Clea and her mother, but her mother was usually working odd hours so she didn't see her for very long each day. It was inevitable that Clea would leave her too, eventually, because what could she possibly see in a kid like herself. She was convinced this was only a short romantic fling for Clea, a forbidden pleasure she found in the strange and lonely schoolgirl. She knew it was only a matter of time before she cut her out of her existence and moved on with her life. Clea was already risking so much to be in this relationship but Amii couldn't give it up now. She just couldn't.

Cold hands creeping under the fabric of her shirt interrupted her thoughts, signaling that Clea had finished the painting. She let herself be rolled onto her back with her hands pinned above her head by Clea's own. Her mouth was claimed, invaded by an adventurous tongue as she immersed herself in the feeling of a warm body pressing her into the floor and hungry lips possessing her own. Thoughts faded and she let herself drift away in pleasure.

Chapter 7: Her Lover

Clea watched as Amii settled herself on the bed for another painting. She loved painting Amii on the bed, it always brought to mind such... interesting... thoughts. Like right now when she was getting images flashing through her head of her small, naked body tangled in the sheets. She smiled to herself and resolved to eventually make something like that into a painting. But before she could do that she needed to get Amii satisfactorily posed for her current painting. Clea had always preferred a hands-on approach when dealing with her models.

Amii smiled at her as Clea approached the bed, a beautifully rare smile on an otherwise serious little face, that seemed to be for Clea alone. Tracing a hand along the girl's jaw-line, she leaned down to capture already parted lips. Amii melted into her, relaxing under Clea's hands as she repositioned Amii's limbs to fit the picture that had already formed in her mind. Judging from the lack of protest, Amii was getting used to Clea's touches. Which meant that it was time for Clea to test where the new boundaries in their relationship lay.

Deft hands unbuttoned Amii's shirt and Clea's mouth moved down the newly exposed skin. Amii's hands twisted in the sheets from where Clea had placed them above the girl's head. Clea let her hands wander to the front of Amii's school skirt, swiftly undoing the buttons on its side. She pulled her hands away before Amii had a chance to voice the protest that was growing on her lips. Clea let her hands slide between Amii's thighs, parting them easily and arranging Amii's legs to her liking. Clea swirled her tongue in the soft dimple of Amii's belly button, producing an infectious chuckle from the young girl beneath her that made Clea's heart flutter. She didn't want to wait; she couldn't wait. She wanted to pull off Amii's skirt right now and ravish the child senseless. But it was too early, Amii was still thinking coherently.

Clea pulled away, knowing she wouldn't be able to control herself much longer. As it was, she was barely able to leave the sweet and tasty skin bared to her. She surveyed her work with a professional eye and found the flushed, panting slender girl on the bed to be much to her liking. With a self-satisfied smirk in place, Clea picked up a brush and started to capture the youthful form of her latest beauty onto canvas.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Amii absently wondered when Clea had started kissing her, the painter's weight a gentle force above her. She must have fallen asleep again; she always did when Clea painted her on the bed. She couldn't help it. Clea's bed was so much softer than her bed at home and the soft sheets felt wonderful underneath her skin. Clea's scent was all around her, a heady mix of cinnamon and musk that was ingrained in the sheets. It was so easy to relax here and let herself drift. She could forget the worries that plagued her in the waking world and be at ease.

Amii shivered as Clea's hands ran across her bare shoulder and she tried to bring her hands up to encircle Clea's neck as she licked a trail from Amii's ear to her collarbone. The hands finishing undoing her skirt brought her mind to full alert and she tried to twist her hips away from Clea's hands. The movement only helped Clea pull the fabric away from Amii's skin and partway off her hips.

"Clea, stop!"

Amii's protest seemed to have some effect on Clea because the woman paused in her movements to look at Amii. Clea's gaze was gentle and caring as she ran a hand along Amii's chin and then lightly kissed Amii's closed lips. Blonde bangs tickled her nose as Clea nuzzled the side of her little face before whispering in her ear.

"Please, let me closer, Amii. You're a beautiful girl. I want you."

The words made Amii shiver, and she couldn't deny wanting the same. It was going to happen tonight, she was certain. She couldn't do anything to physically stop Clea. She didn't want to stop Clea. A hand caressing her face drove her thoughts away and she surrendered to the sensations flooding her body. Her school skirt was drawn fully off as Clea lightly bit Amii's neck, and Amii helped the woman kick it away. Amii gasped and titled her head to the side. She didn't think about telling Clea not to mark her. Her hips bucked as Clea stroked her, sending more low gasps spilling from her lips.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Clea's voice near her ear made Amii turn her head to face the artist. She blushed as she caught a glimpse of Clea's naked body hovering over her own. She felt so small and her heartbeat sped up as Clea smiled at her protectively, her eyes promising many good things. Amii's only answer was a strangled moan as Clea closed her mouth on Amii's lips, and her eyes half-shut in pleasure. Clea watched her with emerald eyes filled with want, her gaze fixed on Amii's face in a way that made her blush increase. How adorable, Clea smiled. She looks just like a little red tomato. Her free hand parted the schoolgirl's thighs so that she could settle between them.

The painter leaned down until their noses touched. "Let me make you feel even better than you do now."

Clea's mouth covered Amii's own and she closed her eyes. Clea's hand left her briefly, then returned to stroke her again as her open palm cupped one small breast. Amii's eyes shot open, the girl's mouth swallowing her embarrassment at the audacity. She twisted her slim torso wildly under Clea, not sure whether she was trying to get closer to or further away from the woman's touch. But soft fingers only found their way further down her chest as Amii hooked her legs behind Clea's naked back. It embarrassed her intensely, this gentle invasion of Clea's fingers. Just when she thought she was getting used to it, they would explore even more of her body or they'd start moving in a way that made her breath hitch. Light kisses rained across her forehead and face to distract her as she was stretched, keeping her mind off the light burning excitement rising inside of her. Amii's hands grasped tightly onto Clea's neck like a shipwrecked castaway clutching to the life-raft, a slowly fading point of rescue amidst the heat of their entwined bodies.

And then, all of a sudden, Clea pulled away.

Amii blinked in surprise as the touches stopped and her mind was shocked back into a semblance of coherency, like dumping a pail of cold water over a person who'd just stepped out of a hot tub.

"Clea?"

A finger over her lips silenced her. That and her legs around Clea's hips were the only remaining points of contact between them. Clea's eyes were serious as she spoke, her tone flat.

"Tell me to stop, Amii. If you don't want this, just say one word and we'll quit. I'd hate to force anything on you, sweetheart."

Amii could tell how much Clea was fighting with herself to say those words. The woman's pain and worry was written in the lines of her face and the conflicting emotions matched Amii's own. She was surprised that Clea would offer this; she'd thought Clea had always been aiming to take what she wanted, but once again, Amii found herself in the wrong.

With her outstretched arms, Amii pulled Clea closer to herself. She smiled at Clea, relaxing her body beneath the woman and wondering why she'd never noticed how Clea seemed to fit so perfectly next to her.

"I need this, Clea. Please. I want your love."

Clea nodded in response and positioned herself beside the small girl, her eyes holding onto Amii's own. Clea was kissing her urgently, her mouth moving all over Amii's face, neck and shoulders as she strained to get closer to Amii. One of Clea's hands worked between their bodies to stroke Amii, the other one tangled in Amii's hair. Their love was soft and gentle. They moved together, trying to bring their bodies as close as possible to each other. Amii arched her back to meet Clea's hands on her body, her head thrown back against the pillows, her small frame writhing. She couldn't keep track of the sounds that fell from her mouth, only knew that they seemed to coincide with the increasing urgency in Clea's own movements.

And then it was all over as she eased herself into Clea's hands with a soft moan. The world around them stilled, the perfect silence broken only by their hurried breathing as the young girl and her lover struggled to catch their breath. Amii had trouble keeping her eyes open when Clea pulled the covers out from under her. Her entire body felt warm and relaxed as Clea easily rolled Amii into her arms, repositioning the covers over them. Amii entwined her arms around Clea's neck before letting her eyes drift shut, her head cushioned against her lover's chest. She was asleep almost immediately.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Clea absently ran a hand through Amii's hair as she watched the girl sleep, her movements light enough not to wake Amii. She loved doing this to her. Passing fingers through inky blackness of her silky hair felt like holding midnight in her hands. The girl was lovely when she gave in. Clea pulled a few strands of hair away from Amii's forehead and placed a kiss on the skin there. Amii stirred slightly at the touch, chocolate eyes blinking at her as if unwilling to give up slumber. The almond shaped eyes focused on Clea's face and she smiled. Clea felt herself smiling in response as she leaned down to kiss Amii on the lips.

"What time is it?" Amii asked absently after they broke away.

Clea peered over Amii's bare shoulder at the digital clock next to her bed. "8:45."

Amii froze in Clea's arms for a brief second as her mind processed the information. She cursed and shot out of bed, startling Clea with her haste as she rapidly dressed.

"Oh my God! My step-dad's going to kill me for being late!" Amii only glanced at Clea briefly as she gathered her things, but even that fraction of a second was enough for Clea to notice the panic and fear in Amii's eyes.

"I'm sure it'll be alright, sweetheart. Just tell him you lost track of time studying in the library or something."

"No! He still won't like the fact that I'm late, no matter the reason."

Clea rose from the bed, not caring about her nakedness, and grabbed Amii's arm lightly before the girl could completely walk out the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

Her words seemed to surprise Amii partially out of her panic and she stopped, nodding silently. Stretching up on her tiptoes, Amii kissed Clea quickly before running out the door.

Clea couldn't help but feel a little uneasy as Amii left. Her earlier words hadn't sounded like the normal worries of a teenager. There was a note of strain in them, and maybe even real fear.

Clea shut the door as soon as Amii disappeared into the elevator and returned to the bedroom. Her new painting caught her eye and she absently ran her fingers over the dry paint, tracing out the pattern of one of the bruises she remembered seeing on Amii earlier that had been left out of the painting. Why couldn't she believe Amii's excuses about where the bruises had come from? Why did the mark on Amii's right arm give her the impression of a large hand? Amii had said she was clumsy, but never once had she tripped or accidentally bumped into anything while in Clea's presence.

Pulling on her pants, Clea stalked over to the window seat in her bedroom, the large glass panes displaying the city lights stretched out below her. She wondered if any of the figures bustling on the street far below her were Amii. The young girl was probably halfway home by now. Clea cracked the window open, the cool evening air swirling her hair around her face. She inhaled the fresh air, letting the breeze play with her hair in an attempt to ease her troubled thoughts. Clea only felt distrait like this when she had a lot on her mind, and right now, her mind seemed particularly stuck on a certain young girl.

She let her head loll back against the glass, her eyes staring vacantly at the street eight stories below her. In her mind she pictured the bruises on Amii's small body. She remembered sitting here a few days ago with Amii straddling her lap as they kissed. Then Clea's fingers had brushed a bruise on the girl's side, making Amii wince and break away. There were too many bruises to be coincidence. There was something going on that Amii refused to talk about.

Sighing, Clea let her hair hang out the window, the strands of it flying in the cold stream of air as she fought hard to stop her eyes from tearing up. She had no choice but to wait until Amii wanted to talk about it. She couldn't do anything to help Amii until she had a better idea what was going on.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

An angry voice assaulted Amii as her head spun, her cheek burning from where she'd been hit. A fist connected with her stomach, knocking her backwards from the force. Air rushed past her as she fell, her eyes widening in shock just before her head smacked into one of the steps. She blinked and found herself staring at the carpet at the foot of the stairs she'd just tumbled down. So many places on her body hurt that it was hard to determine exactly where she'd been injured. She could hear feet descending the stairs and she tried to rise, to get away. Her right arm refused to respond from where it was twisted under her, she could barely feel it. The feet reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped on her back on their way out the door. Amii cried out in pain as the pressure made her arm flare with pain. The front door slammed shut on her cries. Amii could hear a car engine rev and then pull out of the driveway before her vision faded into darkness.

Chapter 8: Secrets

Clea was worried. Or she had been worried five days ago when Amii hadn't stopped by her apartment like usual. Now her worrying was taking on a more frantic edge as she prowled past all the areas she and Amii had visited in the two months they'd known each other. Amii hadn't been to school for at least the past three days. She wasn't anywhere Clea could think to check. Even if Amii were avoiding her, she wouldn't have skipped school. Something bad must have happened.

Clea walked out of the elevator in her apartment complex as it reached the eighth floor, her floor, and she pulled out the keys to her apartment. She stepped into the short hall and blinked as she took in the small figure sitting on the floor beside her door, her head between her knees and hair falling forward to cover eyes Clea knew were fixed on the carpet. The cast on her right arm sharpened Clea's worry, and she stepped forward quickly to pull Amii into a hug, careful of the girl's injured arm.

Amii jumped slightly, but her left hand grabbed the front of Clea's shirt as Clea tilted Amii's head up for a deep kiss. Amii's eyes were closed and Clea knew the girl was trying to avoid looking into her eyes.

Unlocking the door quickly, she pulled Amii's weak body inside and settled her onto the couch. Amii moved mechanically, her eyes trained to the floor as she was pulled onto Clea's lap. Her head fell onto Clea's shoulder, and Clea ran her hand lightly down Amii's back to relive the tension she felt there. She stopped when Amii winced and mewled in pain, her hand tightening its hold on Clea's shirt.

"What happened, sweetheart?"

Amii spoke into Clea's shoulder, her body trembling slightly. "I fell down the stairs. My Mom didn't want me to leave the house for a while, but I talked her out of it." She paused for a moment before releasing a shaky breath, "I'm sorry I didn't call or anything."

"It's okay, don't worry about it." Clea knew that wasn't the whole truth but she didn't press Amii about it. She tightened her arms around the little girl as much as she could without hurting her and kissed Amii's hair. After a few minutes of silence, Amii hesitantly looked up. Clea kept her eyes gentle, trying hard not to show how much it hurt her to see the pain in Amii's expression. She kissed her lover, determined to remove the hurt from the schoolgirl's beautiful face.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

"You're having lunch with me tomorrow."

Amii looked up from where she was curled against Clea's side, their naked bodies entwined under the covers of Clea's bed. Her broken arm was settled gently across Clea's chest, still in a cast after two weeks.

"Okay. Don't I usually?" Amii loved the weekends. She normally came over around 10 AM and spent the majority of the day with Clea.

Clea ruffled her hair playfully. "Yes, but tomorrow's a special lunch. I'm taking you out on a date."

"Really?" Amii half-sat up in excitement.

Clea laughed and pulled Amii up to straddle her hips. "Yes, really. Unless you don't want to."

Amii mock-pouted as Clea teased her. "Of course I want to, silly!"

"Good. Then it's settled," Clea's hands traced a path from Amii's hips down the outside of her legs, pausing to trace the fading outline of a bruise on Amii's right thigh. "Oh, and make sure you wear something dressy, something other than your school uniform."

Amii was instantly curious. "Where are you taking me?"

Clea sat up then and lifted her thighs so that Amii was cradled against Clea's chest. "You'll find out tomorrow."

Before Amii could protest, Clea captured Amii's mouth with her own and started moving her hips in a way that instantly distracted Amii from other thoughts.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

They arrived at the restaurant early; it was either that or be late because Clea couldn't keep her hands off her date. Clea had been the one to suggest they leave the apartment and save the bedroom romp until after their meal. A valet came to take Clea's car as soon as she pulled up to the ritzy Japanese restaurant she'd chosen to impress Amii. And her little girlfriend certainly was impressed, her eyes going wide as she noticed the restaurant and some of the well known and well dressed people inside it. What Amii didn't notice was that they also turned a few heads.

They made a striking pair, the famous painter Clea Vermeer and her latest vision of beauty. Amii was dressed in white dress and a blue long-sleeved blouse that went well with Clea's own tight black pants and white print shirt with long sleeves. Her arm was firmly attached to Amii's slim waist as they followed a waiter to their reserved table, the gesture marking Amii as hers alone. Clea caught a photographer taking a picture of them out of the corner of her eye. By tomorrow morning the fashion magazines would probably already have picked apart Amii's appearance, trying to figure out what about the little teenager had caught the painter's eyes.

They were seated at a small table near the back of the restaurant, Clea's usual spot, and Clea let her eyes concentrate only on the vision of loveliness seated across from her. She'd been here enough to know the menu by heart, a quick glance confirming that the wine list hadn't changed since her last visit. Her eyes caught on a particular white wine that was a favourite of her, and she idly wondered how Amii's mouth would taste after the girl had drank some. Smiling to herself, Clea ordered a bottle before the waiter left. Amii's eyes bulged and Clea knew she'd looked at the price for a single bottle of that vintage.

"Don't even think about the prices, get whatever you'd like."

Amii looked up at her in surprise. "But everything's so expensive, I feel bad..."

Clea smiled gently at her and waved away the young girl's concerns. She set her closed menu across her plate. "You're forgetting who I am," she gave Amii a mischievous smile. "Or did you think I was bluffing when I said I was a famous painter?" Amii blushed and Clea continued, "Besides, I like spending money on my hard-working models, so don't worry about it."

"Japanese or not, I've never been to a restaurant like this, so I don't know what half of these things are," Amii blushed and averted her gaze to the tablecloth. "Do you want to order for me?"

Clea reached across the table to cover Amii's hand with her own as she took Amii's menus and set it with her own. "Do you like seafood?"

Amii nodded and Clea made up her mind what to order for the girl. The waiter returned shortly and poured a glass of wine for each of them. He looked at Clea questioningly, waiting for their order.

Clea handed him the menus. "I'll have the teriyaki chicken, and the seafood platter for the young lady."

Amii gave her a surprised look as the waiter walked away, probably remembering how expensive those two dishes were. Clea spoke before Amii could protest, "Your family doesn't eat out often?"

Amii blinked and then shook her head slightly. "Not since I was a little kid at least. My stepfather doesn't like eating out."

"Stepfather? Your parents are divorced?"

Another slight shake. "No. My father died in a car accident when I was ten."

Clea could tell that the man was well missed. Amii had never mentioned her family much before, and she was curious what kind of people they were.

"What was he like?"

There was warmth and sadness in Amii's voice as she spoke. "He was very kind and nice. He was a pilot, Kazuki Nakagawa. My mom's a shift nurse over at the county hospital. Her maiden name was Madison Caldwell but she goes by Maddie. They met in Ireland, back when Mom was in college and Dad was on holiday. My father was staying there at the time, he'd just finished flight school, and they met when my mom was over there visiting her grandparents. My dad always said that he fell in love with my Mom when she walked through the door of the caffé he was at, sunlight streaming in behind her like she was an angel just stepped down from Heaven. He showed up on her doorstep the next day and asked her to marry her on the spot." Amii seemed very happy when she talked about her parents, her smile lighting up her face. She paused for a moment and a shadow flickered across her face.

"My mom remarried two years after my father's death. My stepfather has a son from a previous marriage. He now lives in his own place and works at a computing firm in town. My stepfather's an accountant over at Tyrell Corporation."

"Do you like your stepfather?"

Amii shrugged with a neutral look on her face. "He's very religious but he's alright."

"So it's just you and your parents at home in the evenings?" Clea's questions had an alternative motive. Of course she wanted to know as much as possible about Amii. But ever since Amii had broken her arm, Clea had resolved to find out what had caused the injury and put an end to it. She forced her face to remain smiling as she remembered the mass of bruises that had covered Amii's body after the incident. The most vivid image was of the horizontal bruises that had covered Amii's back, turning all of the skin there a deep purple overlaid with darker lines. The only time Amii could be receiving the injuries was during the evening. The girl was either at school or with Clea until late in the afternoon everyday, and she'd mentioned her stepfather not liking Amii going out at night.

Amii nodded in response to Clea's question. "It varies who's there from day-to-day though," Amii looked a little uncomfortable with Clea's line of questioning. "What about your parents? You've never mentioned them at all."

"They're dead."

Amii looked at Clea for a moment, speechless. She looked away quickly as she realised she was staring and mumbled an apology. Clea smiled gently and steered the conversation back to Amii's life. What she'd told Amii wasn't exactly the truth, but it was what Clea liked to consider as the truth. Forcing her mind to focus on the future, she left the past buried.

Chapter 9: Broken

Amii hummed quietly as she emptied the dishwasher, piling the plates she'd removed from there onto the counter before transporting them to the cupboard. She'd gotten back from Clea's place only a few hours ago, and her head was still swimming with pleasure. Their date yesterday had been fun. They'd actually spent more time simply talking than Amii could recall them ever doing before. Probably because being in public forced Clea to behave more than she did when they were alone. Not that she wanted Clea to behave when they were alone. She quite enjoyed it when Clea didn't.

The choice of restaurant had impressed her, not because it was such a high-class restaurant, but because Clea wanted to make it something special and familiar to Amii. She was touched that Clea had taken her to such a special place. The staff had all known Clea by name, seeming familiar with her presence. She'd overheard some of them talking when she'd gone to the restroom, and apparently Amii was the first date Clea had ever brought there. After she'd heard that, she'd started regarding Clea differently. It seemed like Clea was serious about dating Amii. That thought alone brought a smile to her face but also scared her. She was only fourteen and still in high school. But she also liked Clea, maybe even loved her though it'd been a long time since Amii had had feelings that deep for another person. Knowing that Clea treated her specially brought her closer to falling in love with the artist.

The sound of a large vehicle pulling into the driveway disturbed Amii's thoughts and she hastily went back to putting away the dishes with one hand. She heard the door open and close, footsteps in the hallway signaling that her stepfather had returned from the bar or wherever he had disappeared off to shortly after Amii's mother had left the house. Amii fervently hoped her stepfather would ignore her and go to bed. Footsteps on the tiled kitchen floor crushed her hopes and Amii tried to appear engrossed in her task on the chance that her stepfather would ignore her if she was doing something helpful.

"Care to explain this?" the demanding tone in her stepfather's voice made her head snap up and chills race down her spine. The narrow set of her stepfather's eyes and his grim frown were enough to warn Amii that she was in trouble. He held up the cover of one of the local tabloids, a picture of Clea kissing Amii in the lower left corner with the title 'Clea Vermeer's Mysterious Schoolgirl Lover?' in large bold letters right below it. Well, that proved that Clea really was famous if the tabloids were so concerned with her love life.

Amii felt the blood drain from her face and she instinctively took a step backwards. She barely had time to stammer the beginnings of a sentence when her stepfather threw the magazine at her, a quick sidestep the only thing that kept her from being hit in the face with it. Wincing, she realised that was not a good move as it only served to make her stepfather angrier when she evaded things. Before she had time to react her stepfather grabbed her by the neck, his large fingers digging into Amii's skin painfully. A quick, powerful blow to the stomach silenced her attempts at speech as much as the hand around her throat, driving out any air left in her lungs and preventing her from taking in more. She was lifted off her feet so that she was eye level with her stepfather.

"You're with her, aren't you? Playing the fuck-toy for some rich dyke when you know I don't approve of that kind of abomination!" The words were shouted from mere centimetres away from her face, punctuated by a tightening of the grip around her throat and a rough shake. Amii struggled to breathe, the overpowering stench of alcohol and her stepfather's blazing eyes telling Amii it would be a long while before her stepfather left her alone.

Black and white checkered tiles sped up to meet her just before her head rapped against them, her broken arm blossoming in pain as it was caught between her and the floor. A booted foot connecting with her side sent fireworks exploding in front of her eyes, quickly followed by another kick. Amii whimpered pitifully, curling into a ball around her broken arm with her uninjured arm covering her head as blows rained down on her back and sides. Her stepfather was incoherent with rage, spluttered curses falling as heavily as the large man's fists and feet. The neighbors surely could hear him yelling and Amii's own cries of pain, but they didn't do anything about it. Probably just turned their TVs up and pretended that nothing was happening. Not their business if a man beat his deviant stepdaughter. Better to stay out of the affair and avoid the police reports. None of them would even look at Amii when they passed her on the street, she wasn't worth their concern.

The torrent of blows stopped almost as abruptly as it started, her stepfather's presence suddenly gone from looming over her. Amii stayed where she was huddled on the floor, trembling in fear as she waited for it to start again. Several minutes passed in silence before Amii warily lifted her head from the floor. Seeing that she was alone in the room, she started to pull herself off the floor, using the kitchen counter for support. She wanted to stay curled on the floor until the pain went away, but she knew from experience that she should at least put something on her bruises or she wouldn't be able to move tomorrow. She never made it that far though.

Before she could take a step, her stepfather was back in the door frame. There was something new in his eyes, not the burning anger that spent itself out after a few solid hits, but something deeper. Cold ice bored into Amii from his eyes and she instantly felt her body go numb in terror. Her reaction was pitifully slow as her stepfather lifted her from her feet by the neck, freshly washed dishes crashing to the floor from a sweep of his's arm. Amii didn't realise she was in the air until she collided with the opposite wall, her body crumbling to the floor like a broken toy. She felt sluggish, as if the air around her had turned to water. A crashing sound above her was her only warning before shards of broken pottery rained down upon her. She looked up in time to see the man unfastening the belt around his pants, eyes glinting cruelly.

"If you won't listen to me, then I'll have to fix you." Amii hastily forced herself into a standing position as he took a step forward. "I'll make you stop misbehaving, make you stop being another of those abominations."

Amii took one look at the pants falling down around her stepfather's legs and the lust-filled glint in his eyes before bolting out the door. Heavy footsteps chased her into the yard, grasping hands brushing against her back spurring her into a sudden burst of speed and she didn't dare look back to see if she'd gained any distance on her pursuer. Her body protested the movement, but she refused to stop running. She couldn't stop running until she reached the only place that meant safety to her.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Clea looked up from the book she was reading as someone started frantically pounding on her door. She was out of her chair in an instant, the peephole in her door giving her a somewhat skewed view of a highly disheveled Amii. Her arms were filled with the trembling little girl the instant she opened the door, the one that clung to her as if she never wanted to let go again. Clea's eyes darkened as she saw red handprints on Amii's bare neck, but she forced her anger behind a calm mask so that she didn't frighten Amii. The young girl slumped suddenly in Clea's arms and she had to move quickly to catch Amii before she fell.

Clea lifted Amii into her arms, her guts twisting as she saw the streaks of blood that covered Amii's face and arms. Locking the door behind her, Clea carried her to the couch. Amii's wide brown eyes never left Clea's face, her breath coming in laboured pants.

Leaving Amii on the couch, Clea went to get a bottle of ointment and a wet washcloth from the bathroom. When she returned, Amii was curled in a ball on the couch with her head on her knees. She was still shaking as Clea sat next to her and gently ran her hand through Amii's hair. A small shard fell out off Amii's hair and Clea examined it, her eyebrows rising as she noted it was a shard of pottery. Seeing other glints in her hair, Clea gently picked out the sharp fragments and set them on the coffee table as she waited for Amii to calm down.

Her little girlfriend slowly uncurled to look at Clea with dead eyes. Clea's expression was carefully constructed to convey only her concern and none of the anger that boiled inside of her as she carefully cleaned off the blood on Amii's face.

"Want to tell me what happened, darling?" She wasn't forcing the question. Instead she was gently asking in hopes that Amii wanted to talk about it.

Amii opened her mouth and then closed it, her gaze shifting to the floor next to Clea's feet. "M- My stepfather tried... to rape me."

Clea's hands stilled as she took in the words. Her anger blazed and she pulled Amii into her arms, gently holding her trembling body.

"He's the one who broke your arm?"

A nod against Clea's shoulder.

"And the one who gave you all those bruises?"

Another nod as Amii's hand grasped the front of Clea's shirt tightly.

"Why?"

"B- because... I- I like girls."

Clea pulled away suddenly and stood, pacing the room to help curb her growing anger. Right now, she wanted to go hunt down the bastard that had hurt this little girl that meant so much to her and beat him senseless. She was beyond mad, she'd passed that when she'd seen the blood. Outraged was gone after Amii had mentioned the attempted rape. She was absolutely furious and now that she had a name to go with she could.... A pitiful, scared whimper from the couch froze her in her tracks and she realised how angry she must look to Amii at the moment.

Clea's features smoothed back into place in a flash as she eased next to Amii on the couch. Her voice lowered to soothing tones as she calmed the young girl, whispering reassurances to her trembling child. She worked Amii's shirt off, lips moving over Amii's skin in time to her traveling hands, seeking to comfort and distract instead of their normal goal. Picking up the ointment, she worked it into Amii's naked skin as gently as she could manage.

Amii had cried herself to sleep while Clea worked, and she gently shifted her into bed. She settled beside Amii, fitting the schoolgirl protectively in her arms before pulling the covers over them. She didn't think she'd be able to let Amii out of her arms for a long while. Just before sleep claimed her, an idea came to mind. Clea definitely was not going to let Amii's stepfather abuse her any longer.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Amii yawned as she rolled onto her side to wrap her arms around Clea, her mind still caught in the fading remnants of sleep. Her arm fell through empty air and she blinked into full consciousness as she realised she was alone in bed. The sheets were still warm next to her and she laid her cheek against them, inhaling Clea's scent. Her left hand absently clutched the sheets and she considered going back to sleep. Her body more than welcomed the idea. She didn't want to face the waking world. She wanted to stay in bed where there was only Clea and herself and she didn't have to worry about anything.

Light streamed in from the open window, a quick glance at the clock confirming that it was nearly noon. She'd missed her morning English and history classes. If she hurried she could probably make it to her math class and hand in the paper that was due today. But that would mean going back to her house for her schoolbooks... Amii shivered. She didn't think she'd be able to go back there for a while, she was too terrified. Her Mom must be worried, unless her stepfather had made up some lame excuse why Amii's belongings were there and she wasn't.

Amii forced herself to get out of bed, at least to see if Clea was still in the apartment. She tiptoed barefoot and found her clothes folded neatly beside the bed and she dressed quickly. From the corner of her eye Amii caught her reflection in the large mirror across from Clea's bed. She turned, half wondering if the person reflected was actually her. Red lines were scattered across her face, her neck a deep purple where her stepfather had grabbed her. As she buttoned up her shirt one-handed she could see more bruises along her chest. She could feel others all over her body, points of dull aches that made moving a chore. Shuddering, Amii turned her back to the mirror and shut-out her memories of the previous night. Despite her attempts, she could still faintly hear her stepfather's voice yelling at her in the back of her head.

Clea wasn't in the living room when Amii stepped out of the bedroom, nor in the open kitchen across from the bedroom. Hesitantly, Amii knocked on the door to Clea's studio. She'd only been in there once before, very briefly. After a moment with no answer, Amii pushed the door open and flicked on the lights. Paintings leaned against the wall and stood on easels, a few choice pieces hanging on the walls. Amii glanced around the room quickly, but Clea wasn't here either.

Amii was about to leave when she noticed that the paintings on the walls had changed. When she'd been in here over a month ago, the paintings had been of Clea's old models, never more than one painting of each person. Now almost all the paintings featured a single person: her. Amii took a hesitant step towards the left wall, the one that had been set aside as a display of Clea's favourite works. In the centre of the display was one of Clea's most recent paintings, made the day Amii had broken her arm. A small piece of paper on the wall below it gave the date and a title: "Sleeping Beauty".

Amii smiled as she left the studio. She'd been happy that day, she remembered it clearly. She'd been so worried that Clea wouldn't want her after they'd made up in her bed but her fears were groundless. Clea cared about her, more than Amii had ever expected her to. And she loved Clea because Clea cared about her, because Clea was nice to her, because Clea made her feel good, because Clea paid attention to her.... She'd been terrified, mindless, last night, and the only place she had thought to go was Clea's apartment. Because she'd known she'd be safe here, that Clea would help her when she didn't even know what could be done to help herself.

Amii slumped to the couch and pulled a blanket off the back to cover herself. It was lonely in the apartment without Clea there. It felt too empty. She shivered with cold and wished she had another body next to her to warm her up.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Clea unlocked the door to her apartment, fully expecting Amii to still be in bed. A smile slipped across her face as she saw her little lover's form curled on the couch, fast asleep. Walking over quietly, she lightly called Amii's name as she gently shook the young girl awake. Amii blinked at her sleepily for a moment before her eyes focused on the two men waiting in the doorway.

"Get up sweetheart, we're going to get your stuff."

"Huh?" Amii gave Clea a confused look as she sat up, her sleepy mind not grasping what Clea was talking about.

With gentle patience Clea repeated her words. "I need you to get up so Brandon, Tyler, and I can go get your belongings from your house and bring them back here."

Chocolate eyes widened in shock as Amii fully sat up. "But..."

Clea put a finger over Amii's lips to stop her from protesting. "You're moving in with me. Don't argue, because it's already been decided. I won't let you stay in your stepfather's house anymore." Clea pulled Amii close and whispered fiercely in her ear, "I won't let him or anyone else hurt you ever again."

A mix of emotions clouded Amii's eyes and she hugged Clea tightly, her head buried in Clea's shoulder, stifling a sob. "Thank you."

Clea returned the embrace for a moment before standing once more, drawing Amii up with her, "Let's go, sweetheart."

Amii followed Clea and her friends out of the apartment.

Chapter 10: A New Life

Clea looked at the tiny house Amii guided them to with a bit of amazement. It seemed like a quaint little house, separated from its neighbors by a small, well-kept lawn. Clea glanced at the houses on either side and wondered what kind of people lived there, wondered what kind of people could stand hearing a little girl being beaten and do nothing about it. Better for them that Clea didn't know the answer, they were safer that way.

Clea walked beside Amii as they approached the house, Tyler and Brandon directly behind them with a stack of empty boxes. Amii looked at the door as if she'd never seen it before, a hint of fear in her eyes. Clea touched Amii's shoulder, the move seeming to jolt the girl out of her daze. She reached into her pockets, looking for something that didn't seem to be there.

"I forgot my key..." Amii looked at her apologetically. "When I ran out last night. There should be a spare key around here somewhere."

Clea didn't wait for Amii to look, she simply knocked loudly on the door. A middle-aged woman answered the door, looking quite surprised at seeing her daughter, a woman and two men standing before her.

"Is your husband here?" Clea's tone was flat, emotionless.

Amii's mother, Clea remembered her name was Madison after a moment, shook her head. "No, he's at work."

Clea stepped into the house silently, pulling Amii with her. Amii was surprisingly docile and followed her easily, her head downcast to avoid meeting her mother's gaze.

"Amii, why don't you show Brandon and Tyler where your room is so they can start getting your things."

Amii looked at Clea once before nodding and walking upstairs, her movements stiff from her bruises. Clea stayed behind with Amii's mother as her friends followed Amii.

"What's going on?" Amii's mother seemed to suddenly recover her wits and she looked between Clea and Amii in shock. Amii had half-turned at the top of the stairs but Clea motioned for her to keep going. She waited until Amii was out of sight before she started speaking, her eyes shifting to pierce Amii's mother with a hard glare.

"Your husband tried to rape Amii last night. I'm Clea Vermeer, Amii's girlfriend. She's moving in with me on my insistence."

Madison's eyes widened and she brought a hand to her mouth. She seemed almost on the verge of running up the stairs after her daughter.

"Is she alright? Did she get hurt?"

Clea let her gaze soften in the face of the woman's concern. "She's alright. She just has a few scratches and bruises." She seemed relieved at that, but her reactions weren't at all what she'd expected. "You don't seemed surprised by what happened."

Amii's mother fixed Clea with a level gaze. "I've worked at the hospital long enough to know signs of abuse when I see them. Amii wouldn't tell me anything, so I didn't know if it was from home, school, or elsewhere. I never though Jonathan would..." Amii's mother drifted into silence for several moments. Clea could hear Amii talking to Brandon and Tyler upstairs, their words too faded to make out.

"I'm Madison, by the way," she held out her hand and Clea shook it lightly before speaking.

"Amii's mentioned you before."

Madison nodded and turned to walk into the kitchen, motioning for Clea to follow her. Clea's eyes fell on a photo framed and hung on the wall as she followed Amii's mother. Both a young and an older man were present in the photo beside Amii and her mother, all of them smiling so happily that it was hard to tell they weren't a normal, happy family. As she walked into the kitchen, the first thing she noticed was a broken dish on the counter. Shards of broken pottery filled a small bucket by a screen door on the other side of the room. Clea thought she saw flecks of red on the shards, but it could have just been a design on the plates.

Amii's mother turned from the counter to hand Clea a piece of paper. "That contains the address of where I work and our home address in case you don't already have it, as well as the numbers to reach me at both places. The last number is my pager, for emergencies."

Clea tucked the paper carefully into her pocket. Reaching out, she took that pen and pad of paper that she had just used to write the note. Scribbling her address and phone number, she handed it back to her. "Here's where you'll be able to reach Amii. Feel free to stop by anytime, without your husband."

Madison nodded. "Please take care of my daughter."

"I will."

A knock on the wall interrupted them a few moments later. Clea turned to seen Amii standing there, looking a bit pale. Clea followed the girl's frozen gaze to the broken plate and she stepped forward to break the connection, placing her hand gently on Amii's shoulder.

"They're done packing my things," Amii announced quietly.

Clea nodded and squeezed Amii's shoulder gently before stepping past the girl to start up the steps. "I'll go help Tyler and Brandon take your stuff to the van."

Clea took another look at the picture of Amii's stepfather as she moved, storing the man's face in memory.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Amii looked at her mother nervously, unsure of what to say. But her mother had always understood Amii better than she did herself. She opened her arms and Amii found herself stepping forward automatically. She felt like she should be crying, but her eyes were dry. Her body had long ago forgotten how to cry.

"I'm sorry." Amii knew it was stupid to apologise but she couldn't help herself. She felt like it was her fault that this was happening, her fault for breaking apart the family like this, her fault for being who she was, her fault for liking girls instead of boys.

"It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong, honey. Nothing at all. It's okay," the words were whispered softly in Amii's ear as her mother brushed a hand through her hair, a gesture that had always comforted her. "It's not your fault, baby."

"But I ruined it," Amii's voice cracked as she spoke. "I ruined your new marriage by being... this way."

Amii was surprised at the strength in her mother's hands as she lifted her head to face her. "Don't ever say that, Amii. Don't even think it. There's nothing wrong with being lesbian. You didn't ruin anything. This is all Jonathan's fault for treating you like this, and my fault for not seeing it."

"But I lied to you about it like a little kid and you didn't know."

Madison placed a light kiss on her daughter's forehead. "I knew something was wrong, but I wasn't sure what," she sighed. "It doesn't make you a little kid, Amii. You've changed and grown up so much since your father died it makes me really proud of you. But placing blame won't do us any good right now. All that matters is that you're alright and that you'll be safe with Miss Vermeer."

They stood there quietly for a few moments, just holding each other.

"Do you love her, Amii?"

Amii nodded against her mother's shoulder, feeling her eyes misting.

"And she's a good woman?"

"She is, Mom."

"Then I'm happy for you two. I wish you nothing but the best of happiness."

Amii blushed slightly. Her eyes caught on the broken plates and she felt her smile fade. "What about you? What's going to happen?"

"Do you want me to press charges against Jonathan?"

Amii took a step back in horror. "No!" She didn't want to break up her mom's new marriage, not when she'd been so happy.

Madison nodded, accepting her daughter's decision. "Jonathan and I need to have a long talk when he gets back. Depending on the answers he gives me, I may file for divorce."

"But you can't... you were so happy. I didn't tell you what was going on because I didn't want to ruin your marriage."

Madison laid her hand gently on the side of Amii's face. "Jonathan and I have been having problems for a while now, dear. I was happy because I thought you were happy, because you tried so hard to make sure I was happy. His problems with you are a big problem but they're not the only problem. You were my daughter long before I met him, and you'll always come first."

Amii didn't know how to respond so she simply nodded, a lump in her throat. Her mother smiled at her before nodding towards the other room, "I'll be fine, sweetie. Your friends are waiting."

Amii turned to see Clea watching from the doorway. She hugged her Mom tightly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before whispering in her ear, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Amii."

Amii stepped away slowly and followed Clea out of the house without a backwards glance.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

"Excuse me, are you Jonathan Caldwell?"

The man nodded as he stopped on the sidewalk in front of Tyrell Corporation. He looked like an average businessman, with a conservative tie and slicked-back brown hair. He wore a dark pinstripe suit, dark brown briefcase in one hand, and a cup of overpriced coffee in the other. He was the kind of man you expected to find with a smiling housewife, 2.5 perfectly average kids, and a dog named Spot. Clea pulled off her sunglasses and pocketed them, wondering how many of the 'normal' people who walked past her were as sick as the man in front of her.

"How can I help you?"

Clea smiled with false cheer. "My name's Clea Vermeer. I'm Amii's girlfriend."

The man's eyes widened seconds before Clea punched him in the face with as much force as she could muster. Papers scattered as Mr. Caldwell's briefcase flew open, thrown from his hand as he hit the pavement. The scent of hazelnut from the man's spilled coffee filled the air and blood flowed from his nose as he looked up at Clea in shock. Clea gave the startled man a furious glare, her eyes daring the man to get up and hit back.

"If you ever touch Amii again, I swear I'll kill you," the cold in Clea's eyes and voice left no doubt that she would follow through with her threat. She held her glare a second longer before she turned and walked away, slipping her sunglasses back onto her face as she went.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Amii smiled as she unlocked the door to see Clea in her studio, working on a painting. She quietly set her school bag on the floor and turned to hang up her coat. Two arms soon found their way around her waist and Amii leaned into the touch, her eyes drifting shut as she did so.

"Welcome home, my beautiful one," Clea whispered the words into Amii's neck as she kissed the little girl there. Amii smiled. It was good to be home.

Chapter 11: Learning to Love

"Ah! I... unn... love... you!"

Clea froze at the words, her pause unnoticed as Amii sighed beside her. The girl's small body tightened around her and Clea couldn't help but follow suit, the passion of her body overriding her mind's panic. Amii was soon curled next to her, her right arm finally healed enough that it didn't need to be in a cast. Clea encouraged Amii to fall asleep by silently rubbing the girl's back lightly. She made sure Amii was fully asleep before she let her smile fade, her breath escaping in a small sigh. Using the arm not wrapped around Amii's body, she brushed a few strands of blonde hair from her face and stared blankly at the ceiling. She wanted a glass of water, but not badly enough to leave the cuddly warmth of her little sleeping beauty.

What was she going to do now?

The question burned through her mind, and for once Clea Vermeer didn't have an answer. She'd known Amii was in love with her for a long time, it was obvious from the way the young girl looked at her. But when Amii said it, vocalised those three little words, then it suddenly became real to Clea. She couldn't hide from it anymore. All along she'd been planning to make Amii fall in love with her. After all, what better way to keep a model than to have them develop feelings for her? It had worked for her countless times before, and she'd had no problems getting rid of them when she'd tired of their beauty. But it was different this time. Amii was so young, still a child really, and that scared her.

Clea Vermeer did not commit. There was no person in this world that she couldn't give up and walk away from, no one that she couldn't leave. But she had definite feelings for Amii. She liked Amii, she really cared for her. After everything that had happened to her beloved girl with her stepfather, she just wanted to keep Amii with her and make sure no one ever hurt her again. But she wasn't in love. She couldn't be, that was impossible. But she was on the verge of it. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach. If they continued like this, she knew she would fall eventually.

She was softening by being around Amii just like Amii was changing by living with her. The girl's smiles weren't as rare anymore, and Amii had actually laughed a few days ago. In all the time they'd been together, Amii had never laughed at anything. When they first met there was a quiet timidness about Amii, a serious air about her that nothing could dispel, and now that she knew about Amii's home life she also recognised how afraid Amii had been about being hurt. Now, all of that had disappeared. She was happy and more outgoing. She was a cheerful fourteen-year-old schoolgirl once again. When she was around Clea she seemed perfectly at ease, like she didn't have anything to worry about.

And Clea was changing too. Since they'd been dating, she'd lost the desire for anyone that wasn't her little Amii. Normally, during her previous relationships, she'd have cheated on her lover numerous times by now. Even her friends had noticed this change, commenting on it when Amii wasn't around.

She was starting to get really scared now. How long had she been with Amii? Four months almost, if her mental calculations were correct, and they'd been living together for two of those months. She couldn't remember any of her previous lovers lasting more than three months before she got sick of them, but Clea didn't see that happening anytime soon with Amii. She might very well have already...

Clea cut that thought off before it could go any farther, refused to think about it. Maybe it was time she cut Amii out of her life, before things went farther than Clea could handle them. She didn't want to hurt Amii but the girl was only fourteen. It wasn't right and as much as it pained her, she didn't think she had a choice. She needed to get rid of Amii before it was too late and got them both into bigger trouble than either of them could handle.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Amii nervously looked at the high-class crowd gathered in the art gallery. Aside from the restaurants Clea had taken her to, Amii had never been around so many wealthy and famous people in her life. She felt like a child and out of place here, like she shouldn't even be here. But this showing was important to Clea. It was a premier of all of her most recent works, most of which featured Amii in various states of undress. Thankfully, none of them were nude or even fairly close to nude. Clea had wanted her to come to the showing, had even insisted on buying Amii an expensive outfit just for the occasion. She didn't understand why Clea fussed so much, she was just a plain schoolgirl after all. Even with the expensive clothing, she couldn't imagine that she looked like anything other than a little kid to the rest of the people in the room.

But even her nervousness didn't lower the happiness she felt at being treated so nicely by Clea. After she'd started living with Clea, things had changed for her immensely. It was like all the negative emotions she'd experienced over the past several years had inverted, and now she was filled with so much joy, happiness and love. Clea treated her so gently, showering attention on her almost constantly. She knew beyond a doubt that Clea cared for her, even though Clea never said anything. But she was fine with that. She didn't care if Clea ever told her how she felt, it was enough that she was with Clea because she loved her like she never loved anyone before.

"You're Clea Vermeer's new toy, aren't you?"

Amii blinked in surprise and then gave the other woman a hard glare. "I'm not a toy."

The woman was tall and dressy. Her brown hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, and her clothing looked like it was as expensive as one of the paintings on sale at the showing.

The woman's smile wasn't entirely pleasant. "You're her current model, right?"

Amii nodded.

"Then you're one of her toys," the woman waved away Amii's glare. "No use getting mad, that's just the way things work with Clea Vermeer. No matter how much she smiles and treats you nicely, you're still just a plaything to her. I was one too, so I know how it works."

"You were one of what?" Amii's eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"One of her models. One of her lovers. They're normally one and the same."

Amii's eyes widened and she quickly forced down a sudden surge of jealousy. "Good for you," Amii turned to leave but a hand on her arm stopped her.

"How long have you two been together?"

Amii wasn't sure why she answered. "Four months."

The woman's eyes widened and she whistled. Amii definitely did not like the way the woman's eyes raked over her body, mentally undressing her.

"Impressive. You must be a pretty good screw for her to keep you around that long. I don't think any of the others lasted more than two months," the woman held out a card. "When she dumps you, give me a call."

Amii pulled her arm free with a sharp jerk. Sending a sharp glare at the woman, she quickly disappeared into the crowd. The nerve of that woman, thinking that she'd just jump from Clea's bed into another's. Besides, Clea wasn't going to dump her. She wouldn't. She cared for her, after all. She wouldn't do something like that to her. But her mental assurances didn't seem to quite reach the rest of herself and she felt an overwhelming urge to find Clea as quickly as possible. She refused to believe that her fate would be the same as the other models Clea had had. It couldn't be. Didn't Clea love her?

Amii heard Clea's voice ahead, and she sped up to reach the painter a soon as possible. She rounded the corner and froze, shock filling her body. There was Clea, sitting on one of the couches against a back wall with a tall brunette in her lap. Her dress was out of place, her breasts practically falling out in front of Clea's face. Not that Clea could really see them from the way her head was buried in her neck, kissing just below her ear. Her hands were all over, obviously wishing there were fewer layers between them. Amii felt her chest tightening. She felt so small and lost among these grown up people as her eyes filled with tears. Suddenly the huge art gallery seemed the size of a broom closet with all the many patrons crowding around her unbearably close. She could feel something inside of her breaking, and she was having problems taking in breath.

Clea looked up then, their eyes meeting for a brief second before Amii turned and fled.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Clea couldn't believe she'd just left her own showing to chase after Amii. One of the largest publicity events for her this year, and she'd left before it was even half over. She didn't even want to think about the number of people that would be yelling at her tomorrow because of this. Things had been going well, technically. She'd thought the brunette would be a perfect candidate to help her forget Amii and purge her unhealthy feelings for the schoolgirl. She probably just needed some new warm body before Amii was nothing more than a face in her paintings. So what if she'd imagined her eyes were brown instead of blue, imagined her curves were smaller, softer.... It had almost been working until she'd looked up and saw Amii staring at her with such a lost, scared expression, and then it had all felt so wrong that she'd ended up dropping the woman on the floor to go chase after Amii.

But Amii was gone. She wasn't anywhere in the gallery, Clea had already checked all three levels, and she wasn't waiting at the car. Clea just hoped the girl had gone back to their apartment so that she didn't have to go searching the entire city. She pulled into the parking garage and was out of the car nearly before the engine had shut off, the elevator ride to the eighth floor seeming to take forever in her hurried state of mind. The door was already unlocked as Clea walked into the apartment.

Amii whirled from where she stood by the sofa as Clea shut the door behind her, the girl's eyes blazing.

"What were you doing with that woman?" Amii shouted at her, furious.

Clea was a little relieved that Amii was angry. If Amii was mad at Clea then it would hurt her less when Clea left.

"It's none of your business what I do!"

"Of course not," Amii's words dripped with sarcasm. "I've only been living with you for the past two months, so I obviously have nothing to do with you or your life."

"No, you don't, Amii." It felt like someone else was speaking for her, the coldness in her voice a sign of how numb her body felt. She had to do this. Had to end it before it was too late. "You're just another fling, a silly kid that means nothing to me."

Amii looked visibly hurt, stunned into speechlessness. Clea didn't want to say it but she forced herself to, nearly chocking as she spit out the words, though none of that was visible to Amii.

"I never loved you, Amii. I never even cared very deeply for you."

Clea felt herself nearly giving in as she watched Amii break. She couldn't stand the lost look in Amii's eyes and tears slowly spilling down her cheeks so she turned her back. She had to end it if she wanted to save herself. But why was it so hard to say the words? Why was a ploy to spare her pain making her feel like she was ripping out her own heart and stomping on it repeatedly?

"I know you can't go home so I'll give the apartment to you. Everything's already paid for. I'll be back for my things tomorrow."

Amii ran forward with a cry to grab Clea's arm. "No!"

Clea instinctively flung the girl off, heard a thunk as Amii hit the armchair. She felt shock and horror course through her as she realised what she'd just done, realised she'd just hurt Amii like her stepfather always had, but she refused to turn and look. Taking a step forward, she put her hand on the doorknob and turned it. As she opened the door, she knew she could never look back. If she looked back, she'd lose her resolve. If she looked back, she'd never leave her again.

"Please don't leave me, Clea! I love you..." the broken whisper made her heart ache.

Clea walked out the door, but a low sound made her pause for a brief instant. It tugged at her mind, taking a few seconds for her to process what that sound actually was. Her mind screamed at her to turn around as another muffled sob broke from Amii's lips.

Involuntarily her head turned and she saw Amii kneeling on the floor, tears streaming down her face with one hand over her mouth and her eyes closed.

She closed the door.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Amii heard the door click shut and she stopped holding back the sobs that wracked her body. She let her tears fall as she curled into a ball with her forehead pressed against the carpet. Clea was gone. Clea had left her. She felt her heart shattering into a million pieces and she didn't know how long it would take before the intense pain in her chest went away, didn't know what she was going to do without Clea in her life. The last time she'd cried had been a few months into when her stepfather had first started beating her and she'd thought she'd forgotten how. But the pain of this overshadowed anything her stepfather had done and she felt like her insides were dying.

Soft footsteps made her head snap up and then Clea was kneeling next to her, gathering the small girl into a tight embrace. Amii couldn't stop crying even as Clea held her, hot tears dampening the fabric of Clea's shirt where the painter pulled Amii's head to rest again her shoulder. She clutched at the front of Clea's shirt, knuckles going white from the tight grip. Her little body shook wildly, loud sobs making her breath hitch and her lungs contract painfully. The painter's hands rubbed her back, fingers running through Amii's hair as she whispered soothing words.

It seemed like an eternity passed as Amii cried on Clea's shoulder, a massive headache building behind her temples but Clea was slowly rubbing it away. She was held in Clea's arms even after her tears subsided, even after her shoulders stopped trembling, but Amii didn't look up. She was afraid that if she did, Clea would disappear and she'd be left alone with her own misery.

After several minutes, Amii felt herself being shifted so that they were both sitting on the floor with Amii sitting in Clea's lap. Reluctantly, she let Clea pull her head away from where it was buried and Amii gazed dully at Clea with eyes that were no doubt bright red from crying. Clea studied her silently before gently wiping away the tear streaks on Amii's cheeks, placing a soft kiss below each eye as she did so.

"Amii. I'm so sorry."

Amii's throat was too raw for her to speak but Clea continued despite her silence, staring into Amii's eyes as she did so.

"I didn't mean what I said. About not caring for you. I really did care for you. I do care for you. I was just scared and I thought it would be better for both of us if I ended it and.... I'm sorry I threw you. I'm sorry I tried to leave. I won't do it again. I won't try to leave you again, Amii. I promise." Clea reached up to gently touch Amii's face. "I can't stand to see you hurt. I can't stand the fact that I made you cry. Pushing you away hurt so much but I.... Can you ever forgive me, Amii?"

Amii nodded silently and leaned forward to kiss Clea. A few more tears slipped down her cheeks as she let her eyes drift shut, and Clea returned the kiss with closed lips. Gently, Clea pulled Amii to rest against her chest.

"Would you mind if I told you a story?"

Amii looked up in surprise and shook her head. "I don't mind," her voice was soft, barely audible.

Clea rested her head against Amii's and she smiled a little sadly. "Once, a long time ago, there was a girl named Karen Brownings. She was a shy little girl who had fallen in love with her high school art teacher. The girl was a very good painter, she loved painting more than anything, except her teacher. And she thought her love was returned. Her life was golden until the day the girl's parents found out about their daughter's relationship with the female teacher. They kicked the girl out of their house forever, and never talked to her again. Distraught, the girl ran to the teacher for comfort, only to be turned away just as cruelly. The teacher lost her job and the girl was left to wander the streets, homeless and penniless. Do you know what happened to the girl?"

Amii shook her head slightly, her eyes wide.

"Karen Brownings died on the streets. The girl changed her name, made herself into a woman who could survive on her own without relying on others. That woman went on to become rich and famous, but she'd developed one flaw: she was so afraid of losing those around her again that she pushed them away before they had a chance to get close to her. But then, one person got under her walls without really trying, and once again, she fell in love with that little person."

Amii wrapped her arms around Clea's neck and Clea looked her straight in the eyes. "Amii, no matter what happens from this day on, I want you to know I'll always love you and I won't leave you. Ever. I promise."

Amii smiled at her and kissed Clea again, lightly. "It would take the force of million suns to take you away from me."

Epilogue

Maybe it wasn't so bad, giving her heart away. Clea looked at the sleeping girl beside her, faint tear-trails still visible in the moonlight on the beautiful teen's face. She didn't really have a choice in the matter anyways, her heart had given itself away long before she'd noticed. But Clea couldn't think of a better person to give it to. If it was Amii, then maybe she was safe. Amii loved her, Amii was devoted to her. Amii wasn't going to leave her like her last love had and she certainly couldn't do to Amii what had been done to her.

With a faint sigh, Clea rolled over so that she was face-to-face with Amii, pressed tightly against the little girl's side. In her sleep, Amii cuddled into Clea's embrace, one leg draping itself over Clea's own. Clea smiled and let thoughts of the past fade away. She couldn't do anything to change what had already happened, she could only focus on what was going on around her. And then there was the future to consider, a future that held visions of her and Amii together for a good while. She'd need time to let herself get used to being in love again, she'd fallen out of practice. But there was time, and Amii was with her. And neither of them had to worry about being left alone again.

The End