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Chloe was reading in her bunk late one night, unable to sleep. It was a horribly romantic scene, where the hero and the heroine profess their love for each other. As she read the last three lines a long sigh escaped her lips.
�Chloe? You awake?� Chris�s voice whispered from behind the curtain. A moment later he poked his head inside.
�Hey,� she greeted him in a hushed voice.
�Can�t sleep?� he asked.
�No,� Chloe sighed.
�You want to talk?� Chris wanted to know.
�Sure,� Chloe replied.
�Let�s go to the other room,� Chris suggested.
Chloe followed him to the TV room where they sat on the low couch. For a moment they just sat there.
Chris watched the way her fiery hair waved in the breeze that was coming in from the open window. Her green eyes were glowing in the low light. Unable to resist the urge, he leaned forward, brushing a stray curl off her forehead.
�What did you want to talk about?� Chloe asked. Her voice was small and there was a certain catch in it.
�I don�t know,� Chris said. �Why didn�t you come to the concert tonight?�
�How did you know I wasn�t there?� Chloe finally looked up at him.
�You weren�t in your usual spot,� Chris answered. �You�re usually in the first or second row on the far left, but you weren�t there.�
�I don�t know,� Chloe said. �I�ve gone to all the others, once you�ve seen one concert, you�ve seen them all.�
�I like it when you�re at the concerts,� Chris told her. �I like to think of you while I�m singing.�
�When else do you think of me?� Chloe asked in a soft voice.
�Hmm�well, I think about you when ever I see blue flowers,� Chris began, �when I�m upset and need someone to talk to. I think about you when I�m happy. I think about you when I�m lying awake in bed, I dream about you, so I guess that would be thinking about you. I think about you when I see an attractive woman. Heck, when I see any woman. We�ve already established the fact that I think about you while I perform, so I guess you could say that I think about you all the time.�
�Oh,� was all Chloe managed to say.
They were silent for a long moment.
Chris searched for something to say, but all he could think of was, �Well?�
�Well what?� Chloe asked, not meeting his gaze.
�Do you want to respond to my statement?� Chris�s agitation was growing.
�What do you want me to say?� Chloe questioned.
�How about telling me how you feel about me?� Chris suggested.
�I can�t,� Chloe murmured.
�What?� Chris leaned closer.
�I can�t,� Chloe repeated.
�Why not?� Chris demanded impatiently.
�Nothing could ever happen between us,� Chloe told him. �Its not you, you�re wonderful and sensitive and-the point is it�s me, not you.�
�We could make it work,� Chris insisted. �I could see you on all my vacations.�
�It�s not that Chris,� Chloe sighed. �I�m too screwed up.�
�No, don�t you say that,� Chris said, grasping her small hands in his.
�You don�t know the whole story,� Chloe sobbed.
�I would if you tell me,� Chris pointed out. �Nothing�s so bad, it can�t be fixed.�
Chloe�s only answer was to sob harder. She was doubled over, her face buried in her hands.
�Hey, I don�t like it when people cry,� Chris reminded her. �Especially people I love.�
Chloe froze. �What did you say?�
�I said, I love you,� Chris answered.
Chloe made the mistake of looking up at him just then. His eyes shone with sincerity. The look of love that she had so wanted to see in his eyes was hers to cherish.
�I love you too,� she whispered.
Chris leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers, gently at first, then harder. His mouth hungrily devoured hers. Chloe slipped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Chris pushed her back on the couch, covering her body with his. He pressed kisses against her throat and jaw, then finally her lips again.
They were stopped by the jolt of the bus coming to a halt. Chris planted one last, delicate kiss on her nose before helping Chloe to her feet.
�I want you to know that I�ll never hurt you,� he vowed, staring deep into her eyes.
�I wish I could promise the same,� Chloe whispered, putting her arms around him, holding him tightly.
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