Date: Sun, 21 Aug 2005 19:48:10 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jane Doe <malkuth_lies@yahoo.com>
Subject: Another night wasted Chapter 2

-Okeydokey, once again, the disclaimer.If you're under 18, stop now. If
you're offended by lesbianism, stop now. If you're offended by consentual
incest, stop now. Otherwise, read, enjoy, whatever.-


	I'm mixing meatloaf for dinner and Jen is watching me, fidgeting at
the island in the kitchen. She's been watching me a lot lately. I know she
hates it when I worry about her, but I can't help it, she's my little
sister.
	I've been taking care of her for most of our lives, since mom
died. I don't think she remembers much about mom at all, and I envy her a
bit for that. Dad has done what he could for us, and we all look after one
another in our own ways. With him in the army and gone most of the day, and
all the moving because of it, we've really been the only constants in one
another's lives. A lot of people would end up closer because of a situation
like this, but I think we all like our privacy a bit too much.
	At least Dad and I do. I'm a lot like him, in looks and
temperament.  Strawberry blonde, blue eyed, with a quiet and private
temperment. I do my best to do what's expected of me, including look after
Jen. Sometimes I wonder if she needs more than I'm giving her.
	I look up from my mixture of cold meat and eggs and oatmeal to
return her gaze for a moment before she looks away, embarrassed at being
caught. Every once in a while it strikes me how much she looks like mom.
Dirty blonde hair as fine as silk and soft, light brown eyes.  Everything
about her from the curve of her jaw and her pointed chin to the shape of
her slightly pursed lips and her gently upturned nose. But most of all her
faraway, contemplative stare. It reminds me of the stories mom would tell,
how much she liked to talk, and it hurts sometimes. I wonder what she's
thinking about when she looks like that. I almost wished she would talk
like mom used to, for hours. I don't remember much of what she said back
then, but I would just sit and listen. I adored the sound of her voice and
I loved seeing her smile. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. Suddenly I
really want to see Jen smile. I'm lost in my own thoughts when she pipes
up.

============================================================================

	When I watch my big sister my thoughts tend to wander. Every little
move she makes and every expression makes me think of something different,
but it all comes back to the same thing. Even watching her make dinner
becomes strangely fascinating, stray locks of hair falling into her face
once in a while and the delicate way she uses her wrist to push them back
in place, always fastidiously clean.  The way her eyes sparkle in even the
most common light, a soft, intense blue like the summer sky. The light
purse of here lips as though she's thinking, or just incredibly focused on
the task at hand.
	And her lips always take me back to that morning. The first and
only time I've ever kissed them. How I lose myself whenever I think about
that kiss and how I wonder what they would taste like without blood on
them, or how just about any other part of her body would taste or feel,
depending on where my eyes wander next.
	Then I realize she's looking right back at me. Guilt knots my
stomach and I look away, a burning rising to my cheeks. She has this way of
looking at me as thought she knows what I'm thinking and it always made me
a bit self conscious, but now it's almost terrifying.  She can live a long,
happy life without knowing what a pervert her little sister is... I need
something... anything to get my mind off that little detour. So I open my
mouth and the first thing that pops to mind comes out...

============================================================================

	"Lana, you goin out tonight?"
	"Yeah, I've got a date. Dinner should be ready at 6:30 for you and
dad though." I try for a smile as my thoughts slip to Craig, my
boyfriend. Tall, broad, handsome and athletic, just my type - physically at
least. Lately he's been a bit pushy on the sex issue. Whatever happened to
waiting? I mean, I want to do it... eventually, with the right guy and at
the right time. But how am I supposed to know if he's the right guy after
only two months? He just keeps pushing though.
	I finished the meatloaf without another word, lost in my own
thoughts. After washing my hands I headed upstairs to get showered and
dressed for my date. I laid out my clothes beforehand so it was a pretty
short process, then on to makeup and hair. Once I was done I took a moment
to check myself out... I love my hair, it's almost down to my lower back and
calling it strawberry blonde just doesn't seem to do it service. All the
hues of a sunset my dad said once. Maybe sunset blonde would be a better
term. I think my body's turning out pretty well too... slim where I should
be and curved where it matters. I'm pretty tall, once again just like
dad. And my eyes, sky blue with just hints of green on the inside rim.
	When I was satisfied with my outfit and look I headed back
downstairs to finish up dinner, putting everything in the over so it'd all
be ready for my two wards. And back to Jen's watchful gaze.

============================================================================

	Craig again. That asshole. I think everyone knows he's an asshole
except Lana and Dad. And Dad would figure it out if he ever met the guy for
more than five minutes. He's one of those guys that looks great on paper or
in a picture, or really if you only meet him for five or ten minutes, but
as time goes on you get to see how fucking shallow the bastard is. I hope
to god she hasn't let him get in her pants. Then again I don't see why he'd
still be with her after the couple months they've dated if she hadn't. That
idea is totally revolting. My stomach twists again as the image flickers
through my mind and the burning sickness of jealousy takes hold.
	I can hear the shower start upstairs and I bury my face in my
hands. She so wouldn't go for that... she wouldn't hop in bed with him of
all people. On some level she has to realize what a skuzzy jerk he
is. Regardless, there isn't jack shit I can do about it.
	By the time she comes down again, dressed and ready for her date,
I've managed to pull myself back into a semblance of normality, and
everything else clears out of my mind as she comes into the room. Hair back
in a calculatedly messy bun, a tauntingly tight little spaghetti string
tank top, pristinely white, fashionably worn in jeans that make it a feat
of willpower to tear my eyes away from her thighs and a long, clingy knit
grey coat to finish the outfit off... pants are a good sign... especially as
slim as those. No easy access there. Though they would be so much fun to
peel off.
	I don't think there would be any way she could not notice me
watching, but she just smiles at me and I melt, grinning back, watching her
openly as she finishes dinner. Until Craig's intrusion it's just us, and
that's how I like it. Secretly I think she likes it too, or at least
doesn't mind, judging by how much happier she seemed by the time he showed
up...

============================================================================

	It might sound kind of strange, but I kind of enjoyed the feeling
of her eyes on me. It's nice to have someone who knows how much effort it
took appreciating it. I don't think her eyes left me once and by the time
Craig was knocking on the door I was smiling broadly. I don't know how she
manages it but there are times Jen can make me smile like nobody else in
the world.
	With one last smile and a wave I headed out on my date. And it was
not to go well. I mean, dinner was nice and he was a complete gentleman,
opening doors and pulling out my chair and picking up the bill. I always
offer to split it, I remember times when we had to count every last cent. I
guess it makes me self conscious of spending other people's money.
	The whole thing went downhill from there. We went to a movie, one
of those awful inspirational sports movies where the misfit underdogs pull
together and through their spirit and unconventional tactics manage to win
the championship or whatever. Yeah... I was thrilled. If you can't hear the
sarcasm I assure you it's there.
	I figured he would probably take me home from there and while we
drove he chattered on about the movie and sports and whatever else. I just
made appreciative noises at the right times and for the largest part
ignored him, which was becoming more and more common in the past couple
weeks.
	The car came to a stop and it registered that we weren't at my
place, or his. We were in the parking lot of the Brentwood Mall, away from
the bright lamps that kept the more popular parking areas well lit and
presumably safer for both the vehicles and the people that owned them.
	Really, the making out wasn't bad, it was something of a release
from the responsibility and worries of home. But as always, he couldn't be
satisfied with just making out. About the time he tried to get a hand up my
shirt I put a stop to it, and that's where things got really ugly.
	To make a long story short... we argued. A lot. He was of the
opinion that because I was friends with Lucy, a sweet girl but far too
willing to hop in bed, I was likely just as easy. So he was dating me for
that, not because he had any interest in me as a person. Or really as
anything other than a living blowup doll. In the end he gave me the classy
option of putting out or getting out, so I did the only thing I could...



-thanks for reading, once again feedback is always welcome, feel free to
contact me at malkuth_lies@yahoo.com, thanks to those who have already
written and hopefully I'll bewriting more soon. Until then, much love!
~Jane-