Was this wrong? By conventional definition.

     Yes.

     Did it matter though? No, no, no. It did not matter.

     When it comes to love, it doesn't matter.

    I scrunch my features together and eye the door infront of me. It was plain. Usual. Nothing set it aside from the other doors down the lane of apartments.

      Standard bell, standard knob, standard eyehole, standard keyhole. It was absolutely, positively, incredulously plain.

      I visit this apartment everyday. There should be nothing wrong with it, yet, I felt a burden on my heart, as if what I was doing was a sin that could never be forgiven. But... This isn't wrong.

       It was love.

      True love.

       Not the love that those dogs outside professed through their mutt mouths.

      My eyes sharpen ever so slightly as I steel my resolve.

      I had love on my side. I could not be wrong.

     My hands reach into my pocket, and I pull out a clay key. Specifically, the key for this apartment. I had been preparing this for months. Carefully, precisely, making sure Catherine could never find out about this momentous sin.

    Sin? No, no, no. How many times did I need to tell myself this? It isn't a sin to profess love!

    This was nothing but a means to eternal love.

    My hand trembles slightly, as I look down at the clay key. It was so small, so... insignificant in appearance. Yet, this little object... For the past few weeks, I had tried to get enough courage to finally, finally open the damned door. It took about 3 shots of father's whiskey to finally get my ass over here. I close my eyes and mouth a silent prayer.

    Failure was not an option.

     I place the key into the lock, turning it slowly and meticulously. I did not want her to wake up. After all, who knew how she would react if she saw some large young man walk into her room? She would think I was a thief... or worse.

     A rapist.

     As my mind utters those words, I feel a little bit of me dying on the inside. A part of me tells me that what I am doing is tantamount to sexual assault, almost as bad as rape. She would never forgive me if she was awake.

      Or maybe she would? She knew me better than anyone else alive, and the inverse applied as well, bar her parents. I clench my teeth as I feel the green envy taking over my heart. They are her parents? Why did I feel this way? This was wrong. I would have to tell them I was their daughter's future husband after all, to hate them was to curse my... our blossoming love.

       The door opens slowly, the dim lights of the apartment corridor flooding in. To my left, I spot the couch where we had spent many hours together, watching anime shows and reading books. To the right, the kitchen where she cooked her sumptuous meals and prepared food worthy of 3 Michelin stars. A smile etches itself onto my face, as I feel a sudden rush of adrenaline course through me.

      Moving in, I close the door behind me, my eyes slowly adapting to the stark blackness of the living hall. I see Catherine's prized feather duster, plucked from her very own body and arranged together by herself in the corner of the room, ontop of a small cabinet. I move over and examine it. Something deep down tells me to hold it, kiss it, smell it, take it, but I refuse that notion. Catherine loves the feather duster. To take it would be to break her heart.

     I continue past these shared memories, and to the door of her room. In there, she would be sleeping. Catherine... I had known her for the longest time, ever since I was born, maybe. She was my closest friend and comrade, and I trusted her with everything. When I was lost with my homework, I would come to her. When I was sad, I would come to her. When I needed a companion, I would come to her. Many people I knew had some reservations about her being one of the mamono, a Kikimora, but that did not matter to me. She was a kindhearted soul and a wonderful person, even if she could be reckless and overbearing from time to time.

    I notice my breaths getting more shallow, more rapid, and I close my eyes. Concentrate, I tell myself. Concentrate. My breath stinks of alcohol and I probably look like shit. My hair is ruffled, my eyes are dark and hollow. I shouldn't be here. I look like shit. She would freak out. She would think I was a rapist! No, no, no, no. That wouldn't do. I push my hair upwards, trying to fake my usual, spiky style. I arrange my shirt properly, shaking myself and huffing in and out. This was the moment of truth. I needed to appear at the very least, presentable. She wouldn't be awake though... Why did it matter? I ask myself, as I look at the door. There was a little sign on it, saying "Catherine's room." She was always one for cutesy stuff... No, no, no. I couldn't let myself get distracted again.

    I slide the door open cautiously, and my eyes dart across Catherine's small bedroom. It is cool and breezy, the windows left open. Moonlight lightens the room up, as small bells, tied together with string, jingle in the wind. A small plant bed sits near the window, an assortment of plants growing. Chili, mostly. Catherine, being the thrice-damned slav that she was, had a particularly nasty habit of making Okroshka. Honestly, I love it's thick, creamy texture and its spicy and meaty taste, but goddamn... it was just so spicy. Years of eating it had ruined my taste buds, and they had become iron-hard resistant against curry and other types of chili. I didn't know if I was to be thankful or not.

      I turn to the other side of the room, and there she was. Catherine.

     Catherine was lying on her large, queen-sized cushion bed, surrounded by her constant pillow companions. In the past, I always wondered why she had such a large bed. When asked about it, she responded with a wink and a teasing remark. "Its for my future husband~" She would say. I gritted my teeth as I thought about it. I couldn't allow anyone else to claim her. I would kill them. Kill them. Kill them. This is why she had to know of my love tonight. This is why... this is why...

    It had gotten worse recently too. She seemed more and more distant, as if she had found someone else. I find myself unable to conjure up an image of her with anyone else. That was an impossibility. I couldn't allow it to happen. Catherine had been with me ever since my birth. I couldn't allow her to leave me now, not when I was like... this. It was her fault I had fallen in love with her. It was her fault she was there when no one else was. It was her fault I loved her more than the stars that gleamed in the night sky. If it wasn't for her... If it wasn't for the love she showed me... If it wasn't for her goddamn smile, I...

    Before I know it, I'm standing next to her. Her long blonde hair rests on the bed, tied up with a little rubber band. Her mature and womanly features seem to be at peace, uncaring of the world at large. I see her cute little mouth move slightly, as she grumbles something incoherent in her sleep. I see her brows crunch together a little, as she shifts over, revealing the rest of her naked form. I gulp. Her modest breasts jiggle slightly as she does so, her areolas standing proudly. One of her arms is wrapped about her pillow, the other free. As I move down her body, I spot her belly, her slim curves, her thin waist, her shapely hips, and...

    I gulp, and I feel a primal urge in me rise up. I lick my lips. I had seen this part of the female body so many times, but I had never seen one in the flesh. My eyes feel stuck, unable to be diverted. Her legs are spread open, revealing her pink pussy. It looks weirdly delicious, and it seems to be drawing me in, like a charm... or a curse. I take a deep breath. I take another deep breath. No. Not now. This would be sexual assault. Rape. This... I could not allow myself to do it. I would damn myself forever, in her eyes, and the eyes of everyone else.

    Restraining myself, I think about what to do. I hadn't planned this far. Was I supposed to just... look at her here? No, no, no. That was just creepy. Only stalkers did that. Ha, ha, ha... oh who am I kidding. I am a stalker. I break into my love's home, stand next to her bed, and eye her naked body and think of raping her. This was totally wrong. What was I thinking? She would curse me to my dying breath...

    I close my eyes and grit my teeth, and curl my hands into fists. I would leave now. This was as far as I could allow myself to go. This never happened.

     But what if... what if someone took her before I did?

     I couldn't live with myself if that happened.

     I watch her perfect, perfect, body resting on the bed. She is illuminated by the moonlight, her beautiful face at rest. I hear her mutter a sentence. "William... Please... stay with me... I love you..." My mouth drops for a moment. Did she know I was here? No, no, no. This wasn't how she normally behaved. If she knew I was here, she would wake up and throw her pillow at me, not plead for me to not leave her.

    Not leave her?

    It takes a moment before the sentence is fully processed in my mind. Every word is deconstructed, analysed, reverse-engineered, and meticulously put back together. She loves me. Those were her words. Were those simply a dream of hers? Did she... really love me?

    I feel my breath growing more shallow, once more. This time, I do not attempt to restrain myself.

    My hand reaches for hers, and I grab it in a tight embrace. I'm holding her hand, I realize. They are coarse, yet, feminine. Years of housework had turned made her hands rough. I flip her hand over, and examine her nails. They're manicured and pretty. It must have taken a lot of effort to ensure that they did not chip or grow worn when washing her apartment.

     Massaging the hand for a moment, I realize that this sensation is not enough. I shift my knee onto the bed, lifting her hand against my face, rubbing it against my cheek. Soft. Feminine. It comforts me, and I let out a purr. Yet, this is still not enough. I need more.

     I crawl ontop of her, my entire body shadowing hers. I eye her perfect face, and my focus shifts to her luscious pink lips. I close my eyes, and move my head towards hers. Our lips touch. For a moment, I feel nothing but bliss. Then, I move back. This is still not enough. I need to show her my love. She needs to know how special she is to me, how important... how precious...

     I move down, towards her nether regions.

										~0~

      As William's lips part with mine, I feel a myriad of emotions rush through my bloodstream. Joy. Lust. Anger. Love. I want to take him here and now, but I cannot. I must not. Just one more step. If he takes me here, he will be mine forever. If I lose control, who knows what could happen. I can't allow him to leave me, to go back to that whore of his. I separated them so he would be mine forever. I must be patient, no matter how much I want him.

      I feel myself salivate, as William's hands explore my body. His recent efforts of working out at the gym seem to have worked out nicely, and his hands feel bruised and caroused, manly enough. I feel his breath tickle my flower, and I shiver slightly. He seems unsure of what to do...  Was it because of me? Did it smell bad? I felt a tinge of fear go up my spine, as the worst case scenarios begun to course through my mind. Maybe I hadn't washed it properly enough? If something so silly would cause him to shy away... gods... what a fool I would be.

     "Its pretty..." William seemed to mutter, to no one in particular. I had hardly any time to think of what he meant before I felt a few rough fingers down there. It seemed that he had begun to explore it, like a child would. Well... I guess that was true. He was a virgin after all, I had made sure he had stayed that way. When he and his girlfriend seemed too close, I deliberately came in between them. I couldn't allow anyone to take him away from me. People say that you remember the first person you bond with forever, and I believed that saying wholely. I would be damned if William... no, my William, could be taken away by some whore. I had made him this way. I had groomed him to be perfect. I would be damned if some damn whore would take my precious William away from me.

     As the young boy continued to explore my nether regions, I felt short spikes of shock and pleasure course up my spine. It felt weird, yet, weirdly enough, I felt tension, as if I was right before the drop of a rollercoaster. I felt myself twitching slightly, and my breath begun to grow slightly deep. I felt something poke my clitoris, and I cringed slightly. Then again... and again... and before I knew it, William had begun licking me. "I love you, Catherine..." He muttered softly as he begun to periodically lick me. It was a thoroughly amateur experience, yet, I felt more joy and pleasure from this singular act than even the most extreme edging session.

     Was it because of love?

    This was love wasn't it.

    As those thoughts begun to course through my mind, certainty begun to set into my mind... Peace.

    I suddenly felt the periodic licks and teases stop, and I opened my eyes slightly. Had William come to his senses? No, no... I couldn't...

    Instead, I saw him moving towards me. He was on his knees, and though his large frame blocked the moonlight, I could see a slight red flush all over his body. Was he...drunk? Joy begun to course through my veins. If he was, he would be even lesser in control. Then... then I could trap him! And he could be with me forever.

    "You're so pretty, Catherine... I love you..." My William muttered, and he drew in for a kiss. It felt sloppy, hot and messy. If the former kiss felt like being washed away by a river, then this one felt like a hurricane. My hands instinctively grabbed the mattress, and I felt his strong arms wrap around my back, lifting me up towards him, one arm on the back of my head, the other grabbing my ass. My tail begins to shish back and forth, wrapping around his arm.

     William begins to force his tongue inside my mouth, and I allow it. As he pushes my teeth apart, I feel our tongues touch. It feels slimy, wrong, and yet, so... right. It felt as if this was the natural state of things. The two of us, bonded together. I felt like I was melting, losing control. Through it all, I noticed William begin to moan, and I felt his hot breath on my face. My breath is shallow and rapid. It seems that I'm not in control as well...

      As the young man ravages my mouth, I feel my hands writhe and move, and my ears begin to flutter like butterfly wings. My back arches upwards, and my legs push against the bedsheets.

     I feel my arms raise up and press against his back, gently pushing him up against me. Our tongues mix, our saliva blending together. It tastes bitter, the scent of alcohol still strong in it. Yet, it tastes like the nectar of the gods, ambrosia. I need more... more... more...

    "William..." I moan into his mouth, as our juices mix together. A second feels like a minute. A minute an hour... I feel my breath drain away, and it is only when I feel a slight choking sensation that I let go of him. My eyes are open now, and they feel watery. My body feels like jelly, and my nether regions are wet. There is nothing in my mind but lust, and love. William's arms are still around me, and the both of us are breathing heavily. "I'm sorry Catherine..." He says, seemingly unaware of my having awakened.

    My ears droop for a moment, as I think about what he says, before I feel something hard enter me. "Hey... Wil-" My words are cut short as he pushes into me with one shot. Pain shoots through my body and a gasp of pain escapes me.