My name is Rory and I’m eighteen. My brother is Derek and he’s seventeen. Actually, I’m almost two years older because he just turned seventeen ... couple of months ago, and I’ll be nineteen in less than two months. I was nine and Derek eight when our father was killed in a car crash. They said he was drunk, and I can believe it. He was drunk a lot of times. He didn’t have any insurance, and we’d never had much money anyway, so we were in kind of a tight place. In the following years we lived in. ." He makes as if he is going to leave me, needingly, alone. I grasp both his hands, crossing my arms against my torso. Glancing over my shoulder at him, I glare at with only my eyes - my lips can't seem to wash away the smirk living there. He looks at me, innocently enough, as he asks.."Yes?" "If you move another inch...", and of course he does. I turn in his arms, releasing his hands. They, however, don't stray from my hips but grip them tighter. He kisses me, deeply, and I forget how that. More

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