I didn’t quite know what to say to that. I was thrown off guard. I found myself wondering what type of person would sympathize with the killer instead of the victims. I secretly scolded myself for thinking that, and I secretly praised her for thinking about me so many years ago when we were miles apart.

"You know what’s crazy?" I shook my head.

"After everything you’ve shared tonight, I so badly just want to fuck you. No wait…I so badly want to make love to you. I want to take your pain away. I want to make you feel…" She paused ever so briefly. "Loved…"

That may just have been the nicest thing anyone has every said to me. I was trembling now, no longer from the crying but for completely different reasons. I could feel myself getting goose flesh from her words.

I didn’t want to hold back from her, I wanted this to happen… I wanted to feel alive.

I pulled her down towards me, my lips finding hers. My eyes closed, I attacked her soft lips with my own. She let her tongue slip into my mouth. I was pulling her closer to me, her body resting on mine. Every inch of my skin was on fire from her touch. There was no way I would pull away.

Spencer’s hands made their way under my t-shirt, lifting it up. I sat up to help her. I glanced down at my body, suddenly so aware of all the bruises and scars. All my insecurities came flooding into the room. I paused, looking at the lamp next to bed, the only source of light in the room. I stretched towards it, needing to switch it off. I was craving darkness. Spencer had seen these scars before, but this time it was different. This time I didn’t want her to see me like this. I needed to be perfect for her.

"Don’t." I paused again, my hand lingering on the switch. Her hand found mine, pulling it away from the light switch, pulling me deeper into the bed.

"You’re beautiful. I want to see you… I want to see all of you." She moved to kiss my lips while straddling my waist. She was looking down at me, her fingers tracing patterns on my skin. I was shaking so much now, so unaware of what to do. My body was craving hers, but my mind was so hesitant, afraid I was going to make a fool of myself. I closed my eyes, my hands clutching the sheets. Her fingers were on a scar, tracing it. I opened my eyes and lifted my hand to move her hand away from it.