Agree

You took a breath. The air in the room felt thick, heavy, unbreathable. Amy's eyes were locked on yours, pupils blown wide, a mixture of fear and a terrifying, exhilarated hope swimming in their depths. Her finger had stopped its torturous trace on your zipper, but the heat of it seemed to burn through the denim.

The image of Jacob, all effortless strength and smiling cruelty, bloomed in your mind. The thought of him touching Amy, of seeing her face contort in an ecstasy you might never be able to give her, was a physical pain. But the alternative... The silence. The empty space on the couch beside you. The finality of a closed door.

You couldn't. You wouldn't.

"Okay," you heard yourself say. The word was a stranger in your own mouth. It felt too small, too fragile for the monumental thing it was agreeing to.

A slow, radiant smile spread across Amy's face. It wasn't the soft, loving smile you knew. This one was sharp, predatory. She surged forward, crashing her lips against yours. It wasn't a kiss of comfort or reassurance. It was a kiss of conquest. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth, claiming you. When she pulled back, a thin string of saliva connected you for a moment before breaking.

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