~I know you've got the best intentions. Just trying to find the right words to say. I promise I've already learned my lesson but right now, I wanna be not okay.~ Katelyn Tarver.

: A trigger is something that sets off a memory tape or flashback transporting the person back to the event of her/his original trauma. (Taken from PsychCentral.)

••

"Your school is shit; how can they not have Sprite? Sprite is life. Are they even from planet earth? And this hideous skirt; my thighs are freezing! Maybe I should have just worn one of the nun ones."

I giggle at Riley's complaint while we stand by the hall's water fountain. Attending school with her has offered me some sense of relief. Luckily, we have a few classes together, so we try to sit next to each other.

With her height and baby-face, she could easily pass for an elementary student; however, she has heads turning since the moment we arrived at school. I spot a few guys openly checking her out and subtly throwing in words of flirtation. She does not fancy the attention much, especially since she has a boyfriend.

"Your turn." I move away after quenching my thirst and Riley immediately goes next, tucking her hair to the other side as she puts her mouth beneath the springing water.

"Woah...damn, who's this girl?" A voice comes from behind and I glance around to see Jace staring at her legs with lust-filled eyes. When he notices me, he takes a step back with an expression close to fear; his lips shaping in an 'o' as he puts his fist to his mouth.

"Oh, shit. She's your friend?"

I stare at him expressionlessly and he rubs his neck awkwardly. "Didn't know."

"Of course, they're friends. Didn't you see her at Club Naked that night?" Tate comes onto the scene as Riley straightens her spine, wiping her lips.

"No, I guess he was too busy being a dick." I cross my arms, cocking my head to the side.

"Wow." Tate gives her a quick once over, dramatically raising his brows. "Not all girls here wear that uniform well, but I am not gonna lie, you look damn good, Riley. Nice to finally see you again, haven't spoken to you in a while."

She smirks in amusement, adjusting her straps, and I wait for her witty response.

"Ah, yeah, you're right. We haven't spoken since that night I traumatically saw your whole genital collection."

And there it is.

I bite back a laugh while Tate smiles unabashedly, raking his dark hair back.

"Yeah-uh, let me clarify a few things. I was not erected so that is why I may have appeared smaller than usual. Also, that cop was not chasing me, we were both going about our separate business and so happened to cross the street at approximately the same time."

Riley nods, pursing her lips. "Oh, yep. I noticed that much. I mean, it was so obvious."

"Uh, look Rain..." Jace buries a hand in his hair and I turn my gaze to him. "I am really sorry about what I did. It was a really fucked up thing to do."

I sigh, shifting my weight. "Your apology is quite late."

Tate laughs. "He's only apologizing because he wants Riley's number."

Jace glares at him while he continues to chuckle, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. Jace grips it painfully hard and takes it off, giving him a vacant gaze.

"Are you two harassing them?"

A familiar voice sounds among us as I turn my head to see Ansel making his way up to us. Territorially, he slips his palm into mine and my gaze falls to the gesture; the butterflies immediately gathering in my stomach.

"Nope, not at all," Jace speaks quickly, a glint of fear flashing across his eyes and Riley smiles in amusement, rubbing her lips.

"We definitely weren't. I mean, I definitely wasn't." Tate speaks. "Jace was trying to hit on Riley."

Jace gawps at him. "Bro. Foul move right there."

"Riley's my brother's girlfriend," Ansel informs. "So, I'd keep my eyes off if I were you. He doesn't take stuff like that lightly."

I smile softly and Riley's face is scarlet as she fiddles with her tie.

"Oh, oh, he's lying...I wasn't..." Jace is tongue-tied once again as he takes a subtle step back, seeming a bit uneasy.

Tate's gaze is fixed on Ansel and I's joined hands. He squints his eyes, pointing at them. "Wait-hold on-are you two...?"

"Yeah, they are." Riley smiles sweetly. "Little too late, eh?"

Tate blinks rapidly in a state of stupefaction, his mouth wide open as we begin to walk away. Jace sighs once we are out of view, resting a hand on his companion's shoulder.

"Told you they were fucking, dude."

"I'm still trying to understand why you both are so hung up on those two girls. So pathetic." Olivia, who has somehow appeared beside the two boys, gawk at them in disgust.

Tate deadpans her, shaking his head in pity. "And I am still wondering why you're so hung up on a boy who doesn't even care you exist. So pathetic."

"AHAH!" Jace doubles over in laughter as Olivia gasps, blinking her eyes at a leaving Tate.

"Burnnnnn!" He sticks out his tongue at his dumbfounded cousin as he follows behind his friend. He still has not gotten over the fact that she snitched on him the other day. He will probably be taking it to his grave.

••

"What do you want to be in the future?" I smile, slipping my boots off my feet as I plop against Ansel's bed.

"Mm. A doctor or maybe a lawyer. A psychiatrist isn't bad either." He swings me a smile before refocusing ahead, loosening his necktie in front of his closet.

The image of Ansel wearing a doctor's coat flashes across my mind and I blush discreetly. With his caring nature and perfect built, he would make a rather fine one.

"What about you?" He returns the question, undoing his dress shirt while I coil my legs beneath me, shrugging my shoulders.

"I am not sure. Do I have no sense of direction if I am still uncertain?"

He shakes his head. "No way, there is still time. You know your dreams when you're seventeen can rapidly change in a matter of seconds. You are still finding yourself; you're still trying to figure out life. You grow mentally and physically each day, so your thoughts at this moment can differ from your thoughts tomorrow. I say just go with the waves."

Scrap the doctor. Ansel would make a great psychiatrist as well.

An attractive one. He is now only wearing his white tank and plaid trousers and I quietly observe his muscular biceps as he folds his dress shirt into a neat pile.

He turns around and I drop my gaze to my fingers, clearing my throat. "Do you think I could be a poet?"

The corner of his lips lifts in a smile, revealing just one of his dimples. "Of course, Rain. You're amazing. There is literally nothing you can't do."

I simper, shifting my eyes to the guitar leaning against the wall beneath his window. "I can't play the guitar though." I chuckle.

"Really?" He cutely lifts his brows, and I nod my head.

"You make it seem so easy, how do you do it?"

As if the topic of guitars intrigues him, he exhales buoyantly, ruffling his hair with a grin as he moves over to the instrument.

"It's really not that hard. Well, it's kind of challenging on your first try, to be honest." He slants the guitar across his torso and plucks a few strings, a soft vibration filling the room.

"The key is to just feel the music." He smiles. "Would you want me to show you?"

"Yeah, sure." I shift against his mattress as he plods over to me.

"We can try 'Lucky' by Jason Mraz, but a slower version."

"Oh, I know that song, it'll be super easy then."

He laughs, and it is as equally beautiful as the strings he strummed a second ago.

"Hold your horses; it's not as easy as it looks. But I like the spirit." His eyes flicker with admiration and I chuckle as he hands the guitar over to me. He plops next to me as I tilt the instrument against my torso as per observation.

"Nice, I like your position, but this finger needs to be right here, on the fingerboard." He brings his arm around my petite body and the clean scent of his deodorant pleasantly meets my nose. My face instantly fires up as how a flame would when doused with gasoline and I try to keep my breathing under control as he lifts my index finger and rest it on the Fingerboard.

"Good, now, the thing with playing the guitar is that a simple incorrect position of your hands can throw the whole thing off. Your left hand is used to stimulate the neck and fret strings. Which are the strings at the top, right?"

I nod my head.

"So, always hold the neck of the guitar in a V created by your thumb and forefinger. You should be able to comfortably move your left hand along the neck without feeling impeded. Like this."

He sets my index and thumb in the shape of a V around the neck of the guitar and moves them up and down the instrument for an accurate demonstration.

"Now, your right-hand rests at the bottom. This area is known as the strumming-slash-plucking area." He rests his palm over my hand that is positioned on the base of the guitar. A jolt of electricity courses through my body at the contact and I shift a little, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I am probably the only one getting butterflies from this situation since Ansel seems quite focused on teaching me the ropes. I fear he will hear my irregular heartbeat; I earnestly hope we will start playing the music soon to drown it out.

"Now when you strum, it has to be slack and relaxed. It involves downstrokes and upstrokes, striking all the chords evenly and at once. You strum with your wrist, so you shouldn't move your elbow much. Now I'll show you an accurate depiction."

He begins to move my hand under his, plucking the chords while he guides my fingers on the neck of the guitar. We begin playing 'Lucky' by Jason Mraz. A sweet, satisfying melodic sound that stills the atmosphere.

As we strum the song, the world around us has vanished into non-existence as if we are building a new universe where we are the only inhabitants. I start thinking about what it would be like if we were the only occupants of planet earth and settle with the notion that we would probably be quite contented. We would be away from the criticism and injustice of others.

Most of the pain and scars we go through are caused by insensitive humans around us. The earth is perfect but the heartless beings occupying it is one of the main sources of our inner and outer turmoil.

Unfortunately, I learned that at a young age.

The song ends and I smile gleefully, shifting my face to look at him. "That was beautiful..."

I trail off and my smile settles into an apprehensive expression when I sight the intense look in Ansel's eyes.

He is already staring at me, his expression unsmiling but filled with passion. It is not rocket science to know that he was just as absorbed as I was. This moment between us touches his heart just as much as it touches mine.

I swallow uneasily as I search his gaze. "What...?"

He says nothing to my nervous question and instead drops his gaze to my lips. Pulling his face closer, he shuts his eyes as he rests his forehead against mine.

I can feel the intense passion plummeting from his body and my heart thumps wildly in my chest, so much that I can see my blouse rising at each beat.

He brushes his nose against mine and I close my eyes, my lips parting as warm air passes through them. The anxiety I experience whenever we are this close is supernaturally overwhelming and I tighten my hold on the guitar.

He grazes my lips and my body melts instantly. Perhaps if I were standing, I would have already fallen at the rate my feet are dissolving beneath me.

Finally, closing the tiny space between us, he latches his lips onto mine. A soft sigh leaves my mouth and warmth spread through-out my body as he kisses me fervently. His hand goes to work, taking the guitar from my grip and resting it onto the floor.

Holding the area between my neck and cheek, I feel his tongue gently nudging against my lips, and I instinctively part them as he slides it inside. It feels pleasantly warm and soft against the walls of my mouth.

Pressing himself against me, I lay flat against the bed as he hovers over me. Our mouths are moving in sync, his body grinding against mine in sheer desire.

Then he slowly breaks the kiss and comes up to look me in the eyes. I scan his, noticing an unidentifiable emotion in them, and my forehead puckers in question.

"Rainey..." He begins, his hands palming the bed to keep his weight above me. He seems a bit unsure as he hangs his head, closing his eyes for a second before lifting his gaze again. "If I were to do something really bad...would you still feel the same about me?"

"W-what do you mean?"

"I mean if...if I were to hurt someone...and they completely deserved it...but you come to learn that I am probably not entirely a good person, would you still be here?"

I search his expression. What is he trying to say? I am not certain I get what he's attempting to tell me, but I do know that nothing could change my feelings for him. Nothing at all.

"No matter what...you'll always mean the world to me." I whisper. "Always, Ansel."

He stares at me and I watch as his eyes soften to one of endearment and something else...relief. His body slightly relaxes, his orbs taking on a brighter shade. He lowers his head and kisses me again, this time more passionately than before. He moves along my cheek to shower kisses along my neck and I tilt my head to the side to grant him full access.

"I want to see your body..." He utters against my skin and a rush of arousal overthrows my mind.

"Can I?"

I nod absentmindedly as he pulls back to lock our gazes. My chest rises and falls in sharp breaths as he keeps a palm on the bed and uses the other to slowly undo the buttons of my school blouse.

Each unclasping heightens my anxiety, and since I had already gotten rid of my tie upon arrival, it won't be long before his eyes grace my chest.

As soon as the last button is unhitched, Ansel drops his eyes to my bare stomach and my cheeks redden even more. He begins to take my shirt off and I ease up to assist him, unhooking my bra and sliding it off my arms.

I am now lying naked beneath him from the waist up, and his eyes flicker over my body while my cheeks brighten under his gaze.

••

Ansel is speechless and awed as his eyes meet her chest. The soft globes positioned on her bust are not small, but they aren't large either. They are pert and perfect; the tiny nub sitting on her areola taut and flushed.

He has never seen anything this beautiful.

He swallows hard, his face taking on a brand-new shade as he feels his arousal straining against his garment. Rainey realizes his lack of speech and immediately feels self-conscious; presuming that he probably doesn't like what he sees.

Ever since the traumatic events of her childhood, she had developed slight insecurity about her body. The two men had made her disclosed areas seem like a cruel gift, and she sometimes finds herself wishing she could just remove them from her body. She hates to see them, so she doesn't blame Ansel for his odd reaction.

Surmising that the silence means her self-doubts were correct, she swallows and reaches for her shirt, but Ansel quickly grasps her hand to stop her, his jaws noticeably tight.

"Don't..." He whispers.

Her eyes are limpid as she meets his gaze, a bright wave of crimson spreading across his cheeks.

"Please...don't."

Her throat burns as he interlaces his fingers in hers, pressing her hand against the bed beside her head.

"You're perfect...so perfect."

His words of adoration cause tears to well in her eyes and though she doesn't entirely believe them, the way he uttered them with such sincerity makes her feel as though she really is.

Still grasping her hand in his, Ansel lowers his head to plant a kiss between the valley of her breasts. Her breath traps in her throat as she shuts her eyes, feeling when his lips trail across to take one of her aroused nubs between his lips.

With each suckle and nip of her soft bud, Rainey feels her soul leaving her body and she crumples his duvet in her palm, tightly clenching her eyes. Ansel releases the hand he had been holding hers with to palm the opposite button on her chest. While his hand gently massages one, his lips are kissing the other with soft passion.

His teeth graze her nipple, his lips pulling at it gently before showering sweet kisses around her areola. A soft moan escapes her, and she bites down onto her lower lip, unsure of how much more she can take. He continues his blissful torture for a while, causing her to slightly squirm beneath him, arching her back in desire. He switches his lips between the two globes equally, ensuring both receive equal attention.

She is severely aroused, and she can feel the evidence between her legs. He kisses all the way up her body to connect their lips again, his mouth exploring hers just as how it had explored her chest, leaving her small buds hard and stimulated.

Her skirt had ridden up and Ansel gropes her thigh, gently squeezing and caressing it as he kisses her. His hand beneath her skirt now begins to roam higher until he is tugging at her panties. Slipping his palm under the lace band, he sensually strokes her waistline, his fingers dangerously close to her sex.

His lips are moving rapidly against hers, and his fingers barely graze the soft flesh of her womanhood when he abruptly breaks the kiss. Rainey's lips jut from the sudden halt as she looks at him in concern.

"What...?"

He shuts his eyes. His mind somehow logged back to those two men. He doesn't want to impose anything she doesn't want. He wants her to give consent; he wants to ensure she would want him to touch her.

"I..." He sighs, unsure of where to start. "Do you want me to touch you, Rain?"

She nods earnestly, peering into his caring eyes. "Yes...I do."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes..." She reaches for his hand and rests it on her thigh. "Please, Ansel."

He stares at her, locating the need in her brown eyes. He wants her just the same and if she is okay with it, he won't hesitate.

As long as she's okay with it.

He presses his lips to hers again as he moves his hand along her thigh. Rainey's heart thuds against her ribcage and she shuts her eyes as he slides his warm palm under her panties.

She thinks she's ready, she thinks she's able to handle this, but an immediate rush of memories comes flooding her thoughts.

Trigger. That psychological blockage that keeps you from moving away from the past; that keeps taking you back. The aftereffect of undergoing severe trauma.

"Jeff? Is everything okay?" Her bright eyes shine in the dark as she begins to get up.

His face breaks out of the darkness, now lighten up by the silver moonlight coming from her window. He sits at her bedside, pressing a finger to his lips as he guides her onto her back.