It was going on a two months now since Justin and I had begun this new... Thing. I don't really know what to call it, but I figured that labels would make it complicated and I enjoyed our simplicity much too much to complicate it. He came over every other day, if not everyday, and called and texted like crazy. We joked like we used to, we kissed slow, and we didn't have sex.

Ever.

It was my most virginal experience since high school. It was like we made out every once in a while, got to know each other's bodies slowly, and then got too scared to continue. At least Justin got too scared to continue. He figured that sex is what messed us up, so we should probably avoid it. I figured since it was him who messed us up, we should probably have as much sex as we wanted because it had nothing to do with our issues. Besides, he was trying so hard to be good to me, so he deserved it.

Furthermore, I missed the sex. I missed the toe curling orgasms he'd give me with the curve of his fingers, the flick of his tongue, or the stroke of his hips. I missed the sounds he'd make when I rode him just right or ran my tongue along his jaw. I missed that connection. That time when we were the most affectionate and intimate with each other...

I guess I should take that back. I think that what we have now is much more intimate. I'm just so used to sex being the only time I was wanted by Justin that I can't let it go; like I'm scared he'll get bored eventually and go back to his old ways. I guess I shouldn't stress too much. A day of change is surprisingly long, let alone two months. Justin was doing all the right things again. He wouldn't try this hard unless he honestly wanted me. He would've been fucked me and left by now because I haven't been very helpful in keeping his 'no sex' policy. I still lusted, more than him now. It made me feel stupid sometimes to want sex after everything I've been through with him because of it. I just can't seem to blame that one thing though. Pin all our relationship issues on the act itself rather than just the two of us.

I sighed, stretched on my couch with Albert meowing in my lap. I ran my hands over his head and pointy ears and down the curve of his back. He purred, so easily satisfied by my simple touch. I wish my hands had that much magic for me. I think I've become immune to masturbation. Nothing compared. It was different when you were alone and had nothing else to get off to, but when you had a man who knew how to make love to you so good that your soul shook, nothing could compare. My body knew a pleasure that was unmeasurable and now refused to enjoy anything else.

Too bad he wouldn't give it to me.

The phone rang and I jumped a little. It was midnight and Justin had called for the day. I was just up late, watching episodes of Buffy and scaring the shit out of myself in my dark apartment.

"Hello?" I mumbled into the phone and there was a pause on the other end. "Hello?" I sat up a little, clicking on the lamp on the table beside the sofa. All I needed was for some idiot to tell me he was watching me. My felt my chest tighten.

"Hey..." It was a low voice, but I'd recognize it anywhere.

"Justin," I sighed, "I thought were some creeper telling me I had seven days or something." He laughed and it wasn't as lighthearted as I would've liked.

"Are you watching Buffy again?" he asked knowingly and I muted the television.

"Maybe..." I grumbled and he chuckled as I held the phone closer to my ear. I missed him already and he was still on the line.

"You always set yourself up for a sleepless night," he told me, "But I guess it's good that you're awake. I really need to talk to you." I bit my bottom lip, not liking his tone one bit.

"About what?" He seemed fine earlier when we were chatting it up aimlessly for hours before he had to meet with some business people for dinner. I held my breath when he sighed into the phone.

"Look, I haven't been honest with you lately," he said, getting straight to the point. I exhaled.

"What do you mean?" I sat up quickly, startling Albert who tumbled to the floor and scurried off. I didn't even remember he was there.

"I mean that... Yeah, I want this to work, Leah. I do, but..." Oh dear god. I closed my eyes and braced myself. "But I can't shake this feeling in my gut that maybe we're pushing this or something. I dunno. It just feels forced."

I felt a stinging in my chest. Forced? It felt rather comfortable and wonderful to me. I didn't know he was locked down by invisible shackles with a gun pressed to his head.

"I don't understand," I said and I didn't.

"I just think that we're moving too fast," he said, "We're acting like couple and we haven't even fixed our friendship first. That's the most important thing."

"Justin, we're not having sex, we barely fool around..."

"We fool around, just not as much as you'd like, and that's my fault," he sighed, "I'm terrified of hurting you to the point where I can't allow myself to have sex with you. That's not normal. I shouldn't feel guilty for thinking about you sexually. I shouldn't feel guilty for turning you on, even just a little bit. It's not suppose to feel that way. I'm suppose to want all those things. I'm suppose to want to please you and be able to without feeling like I'm doing something wrong to you."

"Justin, I'm telling you that it's fine," I told him, without hesitation. "I trust you." There was a long silence, some breathing. I waited, staring at the floor. My fluffy black slippers stared back at me.

"Well, that's the problem," he finally spoke, "I don't trust myself."

"Why?" I asked, "You've been so good to me these pass two months."

"Yeah, but I know myself..." he mumbled, "I'm still capable of... hurting you."

"You'll always be capable of hurting me because that's just the way it goes when you love somebody. I trust you not to hurt me though, Justin. I do. And you trust that I won't hurt you, right?"

"Of course, but that's different."

"How is it different?"

"Leah, you would never hurt me because you don't have it in you," Justin said simply and I felt slightly offended.

"I could hurt you if I tried," I weakly defended.

"But you won't."

"And you will?" I said, "You'll hurt me because you can, for some reason?"

"I dunno and until I do know, for sure, that I won't hurt you. Not on purpose anyway, then I think it's better if we take a little break from each other and then start over again."

"How the hell is avoiding me going to help you treat me better?"

"I'm not avoiding you, I just need some time for me."

"What am I suppose to do then? Wait for you to be ready?"

"I don't want you to wait for me," he said lightly, "I want you to go out and find a normal guy."

"Excuse me?" I asked, making sure I caught that right.

"I think you should put yourself out there," he said nonchalantly like I didn't love him and he didn't love me. I felt my eyes well up. "I think that you've spent way too much time on me and not enough on other guys."

"I'm sorry for not sleeping around like some people, Justin," I bitterly retorted and he sighed.

"You're seeing this all wrong," he told me like I was slow.

"No, I got it," I assured, "You're breaking up with me and we're not even together. I think that part is very clear."

"Don't be like this-"

"Who is she?" I asked suddenly. Maybe there was somebody else. I could deal with that. Him just not wanting me was something different. At least with another woman, he'd have a legit distraction. If he was just so tired of me that he'd rather be alone than I'd feel a bit more like shit.

"There is nobody else, Leah," he sighed in annoyance. "I'm trying to be a better man here. I'm trying to fix what I messed up."

"First off, a better man wouldn't have done this over the phone," I badgered, wiping my tearing face, "And secondly, do whatever it is you need to do. Don't expect me to be around."

"Leah-" I hung up before he could finish and placed the phone back on its base. I stared into space, crying silently. Albert laid in his little bed, tucked in the corner and stared at me. I blinked and turned away, feeling foolish and judged by his innocent eyes. He seemed to tell me what I already knew.

Justin was actually right.

I stared back at the muted scene. Buffy stabbed an evil vampire with a wooden stake and it burst into dust as he screamed very briefly in agony. I was silently jealous that his pain ended so quickly. The one brewing my chest would surely stay. I shook my head, I would have nightmares, but they wouldn't be about Buffy. I wish I had ignored the phone call out of fear or gone to sleep at a more reasonable hour.

I do seem to always set myself up for a sleepness night. Justin was right about that too.