His brain, it was chaos. Filled with a crackling static set at an intolerable volume whilst it tried to drown out the background noise of the voice inside his head screaming at him to do anything but continue to watch this girl. It warned him to look immediately away. To detach and shield his eyes, for what they were witnessing was wrong. The words battering his brain, the blood rushing cold through his veins and the nerves igniting in flame and cracking like several whips inside his limbs; they all tried to stop him...

But he just couldn't.

Her body, he found... was beautiful.

And although every inch of him was screaming that what he was doing was wrong, he felt he had to study her before time ran out. Brendon knew not what time he was chasing quite yet, but he still let this excuse lock his eyes on as much of her body as he could see. He took in every inch of her that he could, as it soothed his tired eyes to examine her bare skin carefully; and although it would have made sense for his actions at this moment in time to be caused by pure lust, nothing about the way he viewed her was done sexually.

He found himself, instead, inspecting her delicately like a piece of art hung in a museum. Like she was something magnificent; a masterpiece too precious for this world. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and caress the brush strokes, to touch the tips of his fingers against the texture of the canvas, to let himself feel the surge of emotion the creator poured into this work of art...

But as his fingertips fell longingly against the cold glass of his bedroom window, his mind fell out of its blissful trance as well.

Coming back into his proper mind was like escaping an enchanted dream to find yourself victim of a slow-motion car crash. His grip tightened around his binoculars like they were the steering wheel, and he was alerted by the headlights of an oncoming car, filling him with terror. But these so-called headlights came, instead, in the form of two bright blue eyes... the same pair that had begun to always catch him when he chose to look anyways.

Just like last time, the binoculars fell into his lap. Just like last time, he flipped the blinds completely closed. And just like last time, his head filled with dreaded thoughts, but this time the static had cleared almost completely and all that was left was a whispering echo in the background filling the last quiet spaces in his mind with a million taunting, 'I told you so's

His head fell to his hands, as a dull throb began to thump at his temples, each second growing louder and louder like the marching of thousands preparing to take him away. The nonstop noise was bringing him closer and closer to insanity, as he twisted his head back and forth, pushing his palms harder and harder against his ears, and the sides of his head until... he stopped.

Turning his head to face his locked bedroom door, he realized that the noise was, in fact, not his head, but footsteps outside of his room. They trailed stridently down the hall, 'thump', 'thump', 'thump'. Seconds later, he heard the front door swing open, and dove to his window to see what was going on.

There Harris was, hopping down the porch steps with swagger, and marching down the driveway; confidence invisibly illuminating his body.

"Where the hell is he going?" Brendon whispered to himself in frustration, pressing his sweaty forehead against the freezing glass. As his nephew passed by his own car, Brendon's body involuntarily began to tighten anxiously.

The boy began to walk closer and closer to the street, and closer and closer to her house. The wetness in Brendon's mouth became a sandy displeasure as his eyes darted back and forth between the naked girl walking around her bedroom and his teenage nephew making his way up to her residence.

"No, no, no, don't you fucking dare."

Brendon watched, puzzled, as Harris stopped at her mailbox and grabbed a piece of paper from it, stopping for a second to read it quickly. Then, he was continuing to walk once again. With each step Harris took up to her doorstep, Brendon's heart rate quickened.

Every aching second Brendon watched Harris' hand raise up to the doorbell, made his throat tighten.

The girl in her bedroom jumped a bit, startled, as Harris must have drawn her attention to the front door. Through the sweat pouring down Brendon's face he watched the young girl take one last long glance toward where he sat peeking familiarly trough a sliver between his blinds, with an inquisitive look on her face, before she began to turn away.

_

Her mind was cheering for her. Like an internal roar of empowering thunder, running thickly through the blood in her veins as if they could burst any minute.

She saw him watching her. Her nerves suddenly lit with electric sparks that popped beneath her skin; painful, yet exciting. The zapping sensation bringing her a sense of feeling nothing less than absolutely alive.

She felt compelled to do something else, though. She wanted more. As if this plan was all going too slow, she found herself wanting something else to happen, anything that could bring her more excitement.

Perhaps she just wanted him.

She ached in suspense and curiosity. Why was he doing nothin more than just sitting there? No one was at her house. Why did he feel as if he had to restrain himself?

The last thing she wanted was for him to be restrained. That wasn't how Sabrina worked. It made her fucking angry. She wanted what she wanted when she wanted it, and she wouldn't stop until she was able to have it. Anything in her way would crumble.

But how could she destroy something that was also exactly what she wanted at the moment.

"...young lady." She could still hear his voice inside her head from the moment he spoke those dreaded words.

Was he truly going to be one of those guys... the ones that denied Sabrina.

As she continued to stare longingly at the small glimmer of light shinning from the window on the house across the street, she let that light fuel her into believing that she could make all of this happen.

If he were restraining himself, he wouldn't be continuing to watch her. To be staring obviously at her naked body, that couldn't help but feel weightless at the thought of being overtaken by him.

But mere seconds later, the glimmer of light disappeared... and just like the smoke of a cigarette fading into a thick summer's air, so went Sabrina's hope.

Checking once more for the light to reappear, the hopelessness began surfacing in the overflowing sink she called a conscience, and suddenly, Sabrina felt... naked. As if the entirety of what exactly was going on right now, and what she was truly doing began pulling her under like painfully slow waves.

Wrapping her arms loosely around her body, she began to look around her room for different clothes to put back on. Her frame jerked involuntarily as the sharp chime of the doorbell ringing from downstairs startled her. Instantly her breathing stopped.

Could it be him?

Has he cracked so easily?

As she turned her head eagerly to look back at the window, Sabrina found that the light was still gone signifying to her that the man was as well, and her heart buzzed within her chest.

She quickly tugged on a tight t-shirt that she hadn't happened to glance at in years, not bothering, yet, purposely not bothering to throw on a bra, and pulled on a pair of black lace underwear.

Her feet nearly tripped over themselves, padding eagerly nonetheless clumsily, as she raced down the stairs and to the front door.

Reaching for the door handle, she could already picture the man's face as he would stand in her doorway, looking at her hungrily and she would invite him in... and it would happen.

It would finally, actually happen.

So as her hand made contact with the cool metal of the door knob, she eagerly turned it awaiting the moment where she would swing the door open and be met face to face with a pair of...

Electric green eyes?

Her mouth hung open at the sight of Harris; her original target, standing inches in front of her, blighting down hard on his bottom lip.

"Um, Hey," he greeted in his amazingly deep voice that made Sabrina's legs feel numb. She tried to meet his eyes, but instead watched his gaze fall to land on a part of her body that definitely wasn't her eyes.

Although she'd originally had an overwhelming crush on Harris specifically, he wasn't exactly who she was expecting. Therefore, his wandering eyes annoyed her more than pleased her as she quickly crossed her arms over her chest.

His attention was instantly redirected. Sabrina rolled her eyes in response.

"Hi," she answered back, trying to sound the least bit seductive, although a bit of hostility still showed through.

"Is it just you here?" He asked suggestively, dragging his eyes around her empty living room.

"Mhm," she breathed, leaning against the door frame, not exactly sure where this all was headed.

"Okay, okay, well..." he drew out, holding a piece of paper between two fingers, waving it in front of her face, "I believe this is yours."

Sabrina plucked the paper from his hands and studied it, quickly realizing that it was, in fact, her grade card.

"And by the looks of it, you need some tutoring," sliding his hand through his hair, he leaned against the opposite side of the doorway as Sabrina, the heat radiating off of his body met her chilled skin, due to their close proximity, "and... I'm sure I could help you."

"I'm sure you could." And as Sabrina accepted Harris' offer, knowing his honest motives behind them, all she could think about was her true motives as well.