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Midnight dropped it’s wave of darkness like a fleece blanket. Though hall lights were on, Station Square hospital had never looked creepier. The only source of light was the dim, flickering lights that sat on the hall walls. They illuminated practically nothing. Sonic was standing in a dark, unnerving hospital, feeling immensely errant.
Groggily, the blue hedgehog rubbed his eyes. It wasn’t that he was tired, really, because he was wide awake -- he was just... psychically tired. Mentally, he was as awake as he had ever been, if not more. Sighing, he turned his head and got a whiff of cleaning product. Now that cleared his head, some.
Sonic hated the smell of hospitals. He absolutely despised them. It was too clean, too sanitary; it made his nose itch unpleasantly and made him more anxious than usual. Suddenly, everything was unbearable when standing in a hospital. Apprehensively, the blue hedgehog paced. In all, his mind was whizzing; everything had happened so quickly... almost too quickly, and that was a lot, coming from him.
His shoe scuffed the immaculate baby-blue tiled floor. He curled his lips up, annoyed. It was dreadfully silent -- it was almost irritating. Sonic needed some kind of commotion, some kind of confirmation.
Her scream still rang throughout his entire body; it echoed through his ears and shook him down to his core. He had never heard her scream like that before; he had her in fear and in pain, but never both at the same time... and to that degree! It was bone-chilling to think about... he had made a vow to keep her absolutely safe...
“SOOOOOOONIC!”
...He shuddered again. God, it was all he could HEAR; her voice was so distinct, swimming in torture and agony and he couldn’t... he couldn’t even think straight. Her screaming face came into mind, engulfed by surrounding flames and discomforting gasps and his heart wrenched inside of his chest.
Continuing to pace, he shook his head, as if to shiver such thoughts and memories away. What had happened happened and living in the past would do nothing to solve it. Sonic’s philosophy in life had always been to live in the moment, to forget the past and breeze on, carefree... but could he, now?
Deciding that he had waited long enough, the blue blur sped down the hall way and stood in front of a doorway; the number 107 was barely legible in the groggy light. He grazed his ungloved fingers over the sign, mumbling the numbers to himself as his fingers made sense of the indented notation. Once mentally agreeing with himself that this was the correct room, his hand moved down to the door knob.
His ears twitched; he heard whimpering.
Moving himself closer, he placed his right ear on the door and bit his lip. Sure enough, nearly-silent sobs were audible. Was she in pain? Panicked, the boy readied himself to open the door... but then stopped himself. She would have been sobbing and gasping a lot louder than that, had she been in any serious pain.
And... well, Amy had always been one to wear her heart on her sleeve...
He allowed himself entrance into her room. Her crying seized abruptly. Her eyes instantly fell on him and she managed a smile, for him. She squirmed to pull her blankets farther upon her slender legs (Sonic blushed at the thought of them as bare as they had been in his presence) and tugged at the hospital gown she adorned. She looked nice in a soft blue color, he realized. She didn’t need to wear any fancy clothes to look pretty; just sitting there in that unflattering gown, her elbow length quills bouncing across her shoulders alluringly... Sonic forced himself to think about anything besides the way she looked at him.
“Hey,” he greeted, nervously. He had always felt minuscule beneath her powerful gaze. “How do you feel?”
She looked at him, lightly. He could tell that she had been crying; her eyes were red and puffy, and her face was flushed. She was paler than he had ever seen her. “I’ve been better...” she admitted, dryly. Her voice was weak... feeble.
It lacked it’s usual peppiness.
...it worried him, to a degree.
He grinned at her, as if willing her to grin with him. “So, I gotcha something!” he started, cheerfully, and pulled out a box of chocolates. Amy eyed them for a moment, stiffly, and then withdrew her eyes and placed them back onto her lap.
He set his eyes on her. She attempted to smile. “Thanks, Sonic. I appreciate it.”
He tossed the box onto the night stand and grabbed a chair. “Alright,” he started, spinning the chair backwards so that the back faced her and sat, facing her, with his legs on either side of the backing. “What’s wrong?”
She pointedly gazed away from him. “Nothing... I’m just tired.”
“Ames.” she visually hued; her cheeks grew increasingly rosy to match her namesake. It was cute, he thought, how whenever he used his pet name for her she blushed instantly. “You’ve never been too tired for chocolate before; no girl is. It’s like... a firecracker. It’s just something you eat regardless of how you feel!”
She gazed at him through the corners of her eyes, a bitter smirk growing on her satiny lips. The effect was stunning; the way those bright green orbs peered over to him suddenly made him forget whatever he had intended on saying. It was a good thing he was naturally scatter-brained in any subject concerning her and was used to stumbling over what to say around this girl... she had a past of making him speechless. “Sonic...”
“Is...” he bit his tongue. Subconsciously, his eyes fell on the sheets. She had pulled them close to her form, framing her sylphlike legs enticingly. She was the prettiest 15 year old girl he had ever laid his emerald eyes on; she certainly looked older than she really was. Those legs... he shook his head. It was probably his fault for inducing the chase. Amy was a very active teenage girl; she exercised more than the average teen did. With a passionate arm outstretched in his direction she’d push forward, screaming his name.
He had been worried that as she aged more and more boys would notice the same things he did about her. Underneath her bundle of eager personality she was a maternal, innocent girl who could be easily fooled by a boy. She hadn’t experienced the phenomena of returned love; and as pretty as she was... hell, as attractive as she was -- of how immensely lovely she was going to be, surely, in few years or so -- she’d be prime pray for jerky boys with their heads in their pants. Not every man could resist their urges like he could.
But... her legs had been caught in that fire... and sure, he had pulled her out, but was he quick enough?
She noticed his distraction. “The doctor said the burning might be permanent.” she whimpered. He raised his sight back to her lovely face; she looked so sad with her eyes downcast... it didn’t sit over well with her cute features, her adorable little button nose...
He grinned at her in a feeble attempt to raise her spirits. “Meh, might’s a loose word, Ames. I doubt it.”
Amy kneaded the sheets in between her fingertips nervously. “But... but what if I’m marked forever, Sonic?” she teared up again and it absolutely killed him; tears had always upset him... especially her tears. She raised her hands up to wipe her eyes and ended up covering her face with her palms, gasping slightly. “Oh, Sonic -- I’m going to look absolutely ridiculous.”
“Ahh, Ames...” he trailed off, awkwardly. Tensely, he reached out and patted her shoulder, consolingly. “Looks don’t matter, you know that -- and nobody’s gonna make fun of ya on my watch, ya know. You’ll be fine!”
Usually, she grew less edgy under his touch; usually, when he laid even a finger on the rosette her eyes would sparkle and she’d smile fully, rambling about their wedding or something long those lines... but not this time. She scooted away from him and stared at him, eyes blazing. She looked so accusing, so furious... poor Sonic didn’t know what he had done wrong! Her cute lips pulled into a frown.
“Yeah, you say that now -- you’re not the one with ugly, disgusting burn scars all down your legs! Other girls are going to laugh and mock me!” she sobbed, pathetically. “They matter to everyone else! E-especially YOU!” she gasped, wide eyed and despairingly. She stared at him through massively tear-filled jade eyes and shook her head. “If you didn’t think I was pretty before you’re never going to love me now!”
He stared back at her. Oh, there were so many things he wanted to say to that -- so many things he wanted so dearly to confess, that he found her breathtakingly beautiful and all the little, quirky things she did adorable. He was about ready to admit that he thought she was lovely in so many ways... but that would let the cat out of the bag completely and at the mere thought of telling her such things his muzzle was already growing red. Not yet, not now...
He moved himself from the chair to sitting on the side of her bed, looking her square in the eyes and shaking his head. He couldn’t form words, quite yet, but maybe the subtle shaking of his head would give her some insight into his mind. You’re beautiful and I love everything about you, even the awful things that I used to find annoying...
She hiccuped and whimpered again. “I-I thought so.” she whispered, breathlessly. “I’m not pretty enough for you.”
“A-Amy--”
“I’m annoying and overbearing; looks was the only thing I had going for me and now that’s gone, too! I’m just a possessive, obsessive little girl with her head stuck in the clouds, fixed on a fantasy that’s never going to happen...” she puled, looking back down into her lap. “...aren’t I?”
He opened his mouth, numbly, unsure of what to say. What exactly did she want him to say? Regardless, what was he supposed to say to make her feel better? Certainly, there had been a time where he had found her obsessive ways creepy and irritating, but he had grown to like most, if not all, of her not-so-subtle quirks. Life was never boring, with Amy around, and Sonic liked action, he enjoyed excitement. Her antics proved to be amusing, and since she was always around... well, Amy knew how to make life dramatic.
She was making it dramatic now, too. At least she was consistent.
“Amy.” he started, bluntly. She looked up at him suddenly, tears streaming down her cream-shaded muzzle. “You’re beautiful inside and out. C’mon, you know that. What happened to that confident girl I grew up with, huh?”
A glowing blush smeared it’s way across her cheers as she sneered. “What happened to her? She got torched, Sonic! There’s a difference between being confident and being realistic, and this is it! Look at me, LOOK at my legs! They’re atrocious!”
He gazed down; she had ripped the sheets off of her formerly covered legs and exposed her rosy legs to the air. Sure enough, bright, painful burn marks traced up and down her soft, feminine legs. He tried to hide his visible wincing; it wasn’t that he found them gross (though they weren’t exactly beautiful), it was more-so the surefire guilt that chipped away at his heart. Maybe if he had been faster she wouldn’t have suffered such a fate? Maybe if he had been a little quicker at pulling her out of the burning rubble of robots then she wouldn’t be feeling so distraught?
Gently, he reached out his hand and placed it at the top of her ankle. Fingertips loose, he grazed them up her leg gingerly, feeling the scars from the burn. He pursed his lips, struggling to keep his hormones at bay as he traced his fingertips up her still legs. He heard her gasp, almost silently, breathlessly... he had to keep himself from blinking or else he might do something he’d regret. The area that hadn’t been burned was still soft and alluring; though some of her rosy fur had been singed, the skin and actual leg underneath was... stimulating, to say the least. He tried to ignore that fact.
“Amy...” he imbued, before gazing back up at her. Her eyes were shut, blissfully, with an unreadable expressing plucking at her lips. Her mouth was open slightly, her tiny fangs barely visible. He stopped himself, midway up her thigh, at the hem of her short, chilled gown. The contrast was sufficient; her skin was warm and inviting, where as the gown was cool and off-turning.
She’s three years younger than you, back off, creeper, he reminded himself heavily.
“S...Sonic....?” she questioned in a murmur. Her eyes opened a crack, her eyelids concealing half of her jade eyes. She was so close... he could practically count each lengthy, lovely eyelash she had. And of course it didn’t help that she smelt engagingly like strawberries and cream, a delectable mix, at the moment. Oh, if she was older...
He withdrew his hand, embarrassed, and placed it on the back of his head. He chuckled nervously. “I... er... uhm... well...”
She raised an eyebrow, still blushing vibrantly. Why did a bright red blush look so captivating on her? Was it because it complimented her complexion?
“...Your uh... legs... they’re still nice.” he managed, eyes straying away from hers desperately, absolutely glowing with a flaming scarlet blush. She drew in a breath acutely. “Don’t... don’t worry so much about the burns. They only look a little funky, and ‘sides, you can pull them off. Think of them as like.... like funky tights or... somethin’...” he rambled, lamely, frenzied to take her and his own mind off of the sudden caressing of her bare legs.
Those soft, pretty, lush legs...
He mentally slapped himself. Stupid mind!
The corners of her mouth twitched into a smile, for a moment. She tilted her head, allowing her soft quills to fall upon her shoulders and neck like a cloth. He used all of his willpower not to lean over and run his fingers through and over them, taking in her scent and pressing his lips against her soft neck...
Once again, he mentally slapped himself. Damn!
His eyes roamed around, pleadingly, and rested on the coffee pot. The water was steaming out of the glass pot... it was probably pretty hot, warm enough to burn. Maybe not burn as badly as the burns on Amy’s legs -- soft, beautiful legs that earned himself yet another mental slap -- but still... wouldn’t it get the job done? Wouldn’t it get the word across to her? He knew she was stubborn, but this would definitely do the trick...
With a plan brewing, mischievously, he brought himself back up to his feet. He ambled over to the coffee pot and took the handle into his hands. “And I mean, if you really feel THAT self conscious about it, I could always match ya --”
“Sonic!” she gasped, eyes wide. He finally allowed himself to look back at her.
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It sucks, ya know? And... I mean, I know that looks don’t matter, right? I mean, people are gonna love me for me, regardless, so a little scarring on my legs won’t hurt anything --”
“Sonic, it hurts!” she dictated, suddenly sitting on her knees, facing him with her palms face-down on the bed. “Don’t be stupid, I’m not worth it! They’ll ache, and you need your legs to run and I couldn’t live with myself if I ruined your career and your favorite hobby --”
“Well, I feel guilty about your burns!” he snapped back before covering his mouth with his free hand. Man, I did NOT want to admit to that!
He went to withdraw his eyes from her but her own pair locked with his before he could do so. She had the most curious expression on her face; it was mostly unreadable. “Sonic...” she mumbled before holding her arms out to him, oddly enough... and her eyes were just begging him to come over and hold her, to smother her in everything he had denied her all these years... and he knew that he wanted to, and at the same time he really didn’t because he knew one thing would lead to another and he’d never be able to forgive himself if something ever happened to her...
He allowed himself to reach out with his free arm and lace his fingers with hers; the effect was like electric. He felt shivers run up his arms from the spark that came with touching her. She let out a tiny purr as she pulled on his arm. Struggling with the pot, he placed it messily on the side table next to her chocolates and plowed into her, compliments of her constant tugging. He backed away, precautionary, and struggled to distance himself from the emotional rosette.
“You big doofus -- would you just hold me, for once?!” she retorted, those jade eyes he had grown to love so much flickering passionately. “Swallow your dumb ego for one minute, huh? Nobody’s going to see!”
Turn down the invitation, turn down the invitation...
His arms, as if they had a mind of their own, found their way around the girl soothingly. He pulled her closer, nearly lifting her off of her knees, his arms practically tied around her slim waist. He pulled their chests together; they were about as close as possible, at this point. His fingers pricked against the ties in the back that held the gown to her form. Alarms began to go off in the back of his mind. Oh, God, no way no way no WAY.... Resist, resist, she’s like, not even 16 yet, that’d be so grossly WRONG...
And of course she had to sigh contently in his arms, driving parts of his brain absolutely insane. Her breath trickled across his chin as she curved her head around to face him, brushing their noses together, and her lips were just so close... were they as lovely and soft as her legs had been? Did they taste like she smelt...? He’d bet any amount of money in the world that she tasted absolutely delicious. Maybe he could kiss her, just once, to make her feel better....? Just to take her mind off of the visual flaws she now possessed that she’d have to learn to deal with, possibly? Just one kiss...?
No, because one will lead to more, and you’ll just give her false hope. You can’t have anything with her. It’d be better if she moves on. You know that.
...but she was too sly for her own good and captured his lips in her own before he could say or do anything to stop her. Her lips encased his lower one enticingly and sucked on it gently before bringing both of her lips to meet both of his own. He tried his hardest to resist her, he really did... but as soon as her tiny, adorable tongue glazed across his adamant lips, begging for entrance... well... he had her pushed down on the bed, at this point, straddled her and was kissing her, regrettably, as he would kiss a woman who was his age.
...she was 15. He was 19. Sure, she was turning 16 in a month or so, but still...
He was supporting himself up with one arm, kissing her furiously and anomalistically and using his other arm to grope at her maturing curves through the soft cotton of the hospital gown. She was still partially in an in between stage; she wasn’t yet a woman but was still, clearly, no longer a little girl. Nonetheless, she was still remotely soft in all the places she should be. He felt her struggle to match his adult-esque passion, but she was still so young and naive, it would have been bizarre for her to keep up with him. His tongue thrashed against hers as he explored the caverns of her mouth. He pulled away to breathe, momentarily, and she emitted a sensual gasp. His eye twitched. Don’t do it man, don’t do it! Back away from the beautiful girl --- she’s underage, that’s just gross and wrong and you’re not doing her any good!
She looked at him through half-lidded eyes... her muzzle exploded in a passionate blush. “Sonic...?” she mused in a breathy tone. “Why’d you stop?”
He sat up, wide eyed, and shook his head. “Jeebus, Amy -- Amy, I can’t do this, really. This... this is wrong.” he held a hand out to her, as if to help her sit up, but she ignored it, looking smug. She folded her arms across her chest and he forced himself not to stare at that particular area. “You’re too young for this -- can we take a rain check?”
“Bu...but...” she threw her arms down, wiggling her body and causing him to look forcefully at her face in fear of staring indecently at her. He had already done enough damage to her innocence in one sitting “You’re always like this! Treat me like a girlfriend, would ya, and not a little sister?!”
“Amy, we’re not dating...” he chuckled and crawled off of her, laying down next to her and joining her at staring at the ceiling. “Maybe one day when you’re older?”
“...and you still think I look pretty, right?” she eyed him.
He blushed vibrantly. “Er... yeah. You’re alright.”
“Soonic...” she growled.
Unable to admit it out loud, he displayed a thumbs up in front of her face. Seizing her opportunity, she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers with his. He attempted to tug his hand away but she pulled it down and held it, with both hands, gingerly, at her chest. She sighed contently and he struggled to ignore it. “Amy, c’mon. Give me my hand back.”
Silence.
He rolled over to see her with her eyes closed, breathing evenly. Seriously doubting that she had actually fallen asleep in that time, he allowed her his hand, at least, to cuddle with. At least this way she wasn’t pushing herself onto him, rubbing things against his body that he’d rather not feel (well, he really kind of did, but not now, anyways). He laid there next to her, running his thumb along hers... and his own eyelids grew heavy as well.
After all, it WAS like... 2 in the morning, at this point. He chuckled silently. Was he really on top of her for that long?
* * * * * * * *
...SO.
xDD
How wussit?
Groggily, the blue hedgehog rubbed his eyes. It wasn’t that he was tired, really, because he was wide awake -- he was just... psychically tired. Mentally, he was as awake as he had ever been, if not more. Sighing, he turned his head and got a whiff of cleaning product. Now that cleared his head, some.
Sonic hated the smell of hospitals. He absolutely despised them. It was too clean, too sanitary; it made his nose itch unpleasantly and made him more anxious than usual. Suddenly, everything was unbearable when standing in a hospital. Apprehensively, the blue hedgehog paced. In all, his mind was whizzing; everything had happened so quickly... almost too quickly, and that was a lot, coming from him.
His shoe scuffed the immaculate baby-blue tiled floor. He curled his lips up, annoyed. It was dreadfully silent -- it was almost irritating. Sonic needed some kind of commotion, some kind of confirmation.
Her scream still rang throughout his entire body; it echoed through his ears and shook him down to his core. He had never heard her scream like that before; he had her in fear and in pain, but never both at the same time... and to that degree! It was bone-chilling to think about... he had made a vow to keep her absolutely safe...
“SOOOOOOONIC!”
...He shuddered again. God, it was all he could HEAR; her voice was so distinct, swimming in torture and agony and he couldn’t... he couldn’t even think straight. Her screaming face came into mind, engulfed by surrounding flames and discomforting gasps and his heart wrenched inside of his chest.
Continuing to pace, he shook his head, as if to shiver such thoughts and memories away. What had happened happened and living in the past would do nothing to solve it. Sonic’s philosophy in life had always been to live in the moment, to forget the past and breeze on, carefree... but could he, now?
Deciding that he had waited long enough, the blue blur sped down the hall way and stood in front of a doorway; the number 107 was barely legible in the groggy light. He grazed his ungloved fingers over the sign, mumbling the numbers to himself as his fingers made sense of the indented notation. Once mentally agreeing with himself that this was the correct room, his hand moved down to the door knob.
His ears twitched; he heard whimpering.
Moving himself closer, he placed his right ear on the door and bit his lip. Sure enough, nearly-silent sobs were audible. Was she in pain? Panicked, the boy readied himself to open the door... but then stopped himself. She would have been sobbing and gasping a lot louder than that, had she been in any serious pain.
And... well, Amy had always been one to wear her heart on her sleeve...
He allowed himself entrance into her room. Her crying seized abruptly. Her eyes instantly fell on him and she managed a smile, for him. She squirmed to pull her blankets farther upon her slender legs (Sonic blushed at the thought of them as bare as they had been in his presence) and tugged at the hospital gown she adorned. She looked nice in a soft blue color, he realized. She didn’t need to wear any fancy clothes to look pretty; just sitting there in that unflattering gown, her elbow length quills bouncing across her shoulders alluringly... Sonic forced himself to think about anything besides the way she looked at him.
“Hey,” he greeted, nervously. He had always felt minuscule beneath her powerful gaze. “How do you feel?”
She looked at him, lightly. He could tell that she had been crying; her eyes were red and puffy, and her face was flushed. She was paler than he had ever seen her. “I’ve been better...” she admitted, dryly. Her voice was weak... feeble.
It lacked it’s usual peppiness.
...it worried him, to a degree.
He grinned at her, as if willing her to grin with him. “So, I gotcha something!” he started, cheerfully, and pulled out a box of chocolates. Amy eyed them for a moment, stiffly, and then withdrew her eyes and placed them back onto her lap.
He set his eyes on her. She attempted to smile. “Thanks, Sonic. I appreciate it.”
He tossed the box onto the night stand and grabbed a chair. “Alright,” he started, spinning the chair backwards so that the back faced her and sat, facing her, with his legs on either side of the backing. “What’s wrong?”
She pointedly gazed away from him. “Nothing... I’m just tired.”
“Ames.” she visually hued; her cheeks grew increasingly rosy to match her namesake. It was cute, he thought, how whenever he used his pet name for her she blushed instantly. “You’ve never been too tired for chocolate before; no girl is. It’s like... a firecracker. It’s just something you eat regardless of how you feel!”
She gazed at him through the corners of her eyes, a bitter smirk growing on her satiny lips. The effect was stunning; the way those bright green orbs peered over to him suddenly made him forget whatever he had intended on saying. It was a good thing he was naturally scatter-brained in any subject concerning her and was used to stumbling over what to say around this girl... she had a past of making him speechless. “Sonic...”
“Is...” he bit his tongue. Subconsciously, his eyes fell on the sheets. She had pulled them close to her form, framing her sylphlike legs enticingly. She was the prettiest 15 year old girl he had ever laid his emerald eyes on; she certainly looked older than she really was. Those legs... he shook his head. It was probably his fault for inducing the chase. Amy was a very active teenage girl; she exercised more than the average teen did. With a passionate arm outstretched in his direction she’d push forward, screaming his name.
He had been worried that as she aged more and more boys would notice the same things he did about her. Underneath her bundle of eager personality she was a maternal, innocent girl who could be easily fooled by a boy. She hadn’t experienced the phenomena of returned love; and as pretty as she was... hell, as attractive as she was -- of how immensely lovely she was going to be, surely, in few years or so -- she’d be prime pray for jerky boys with their heads in their pants. Not every man could resist their urges like he could.
But... her legs had been caught in that fire... and sure, he had pulled her out, but was he quick enough?
She noticed his distraction. “The doctor said the burning might be permanent.” she whimpered. He raised his sight back to her lovely face; she looked so sad with her eyes downcast... it didn’t sit over well with her cute features, her adorable little button nose...
He grinned at her in a feeble attempt to raise her spirits. “Meh, might’s a loose word, Ames. I doubt it.”
Amy kneaded the sheets in between her fingertips nervously. “But... but what if I’m marked forever, Sonic?” she teared up again and it absolutely killed him; tears had always upset him... especially her tears. She raised her hands up to wipe her eyes and ended up covering her face with her palms, gasping slightly. “Oh, Sonic -- I’m going to look absolutely ridiculous.”
“Ahh, Ames...” he trailed off, awkwardly. Tensely, he reached out and patted her shoulder, consolingly. “Looks don’t matter, you know that -- and nobody’s gonna make fun of ya on my watch, ya know. You’ll be fine!”
Usually, she grew less edgy under his touch; usually, when he laid even a finger on the rosette her eyes would sparkle and she’d smile fully, rambling about their wedding or something long those lines... but not this time. She scooted away from him and stared at him, eyes blazing. She looked so accusing, so furious... poor Sonic didn’t know what he had done wrong! Her cute lips pulled into a frown.
“Yeah, you say that now -- you’re not the one with ugly, disgusting burn scars all down your legs! Other girls are going to laugh and mock me!” she sobbed, pathetically. “They matter to everyone else! E-especially YOU!” she gasped, wide eyed and despairingly. She stared at him through massively tear-filled jade eyes and shook her head. “If you didn’t think I was pretty before you’re never going to love me now!”
He stared back at her. Oh, there were so many things he wanted to say to that -- so many things he wanted so dearly to confess, that he found her breathtakingly beautiful and all the little, quirky things she did adorable. He was about ready to admit that he thought she was lovely in so many ways... but that would let the cat out of the bag completely and at the mere thought of telling her such things his muzzle was already growing red. Not yet, not now...
He moved himself from the chair to sitting on the side of her bed, looking her square in the eyes and shaking his head. He couldn’t form words, quite yet, but maybe the subtle shaking of his head would give her some insight into his mind. You’re beautiful and I love everything about you, even the awful things that I used to find annoying...
She hiccuped and whimpered again. “I-I thought so.” she whispered, breathlessly. “I’m not pretty enough for you.”
“A-Amy--”
“I’m annoying and overbearing; looks was the only thing I had going for me and now that’s gone, too! I’m just a possessive, obsessive little girl with her head stuck in the clouds, fixed on a fantasy that’s never going to happen...” she puled, looking back down into her lap. “...aren’t I?”
He opened his mouth, numbly, unsure of what to say. What exactly did she want him to say? Regardless, what was he supposed to say to make her feel better? Certainly, there had been a time where he had found her obsessive ways creepy and irritating, but he had grown to like most, if not all, of her not-so-subtle quirks. Life was never boring, with Amy around, and Sonic liked action, he enjoyed excitement. Her antics proved to be amusing, and since she was always around... well, Amy knew how to make life dramatic.
She was making it dramatic now, too. At least she was consistent.
“Amy.” he started, bluntly. She looked up at him suddenly, tears streaming down her cream-shaded muzzle. “You’re beautiful inside and out. C’mon, you know that. What happened to that confident girl I grew up with, huh?”
A glowing blush smeared it’s way across her cheers as she sneered. “What happened to her? She got torched, Sonic! There’s a difference between being confident and being realistic, and this is it! Look at me, LOOK at my legs! They’re atrocious!”
He gazed down; she had ripped the sheets off of her formerly covered legs and exposed her rosy legs to the air. Sure enough, bright, painful burn marks traced up and down her soft, feminine legs. He tried to hide his visible wincing; it wasn’t that he found them gross (though they weren’t exactly beautiful), it was more-so the surefire guilt that chipped away at his heart. Maybe if he had been faster she wouldn’t have suffered such a fate? Maybe if he had been a little quicker at pulling her out of the burning rubble of robots then she wouldn’t be feeling so distraught?
Gently, he reached out his hand and placed it at the top of her ankle. Fingertips loose, he grazed them up her leg gingerly, feeling the scars from the burn. He pursed his lips, struggling to keep his hormones at bay as he traced his fingertips up her still legs. He heard her gasp, almost silently, breathlessly... he had to keep himself from blinking or else he might do something he’d regret. The area that hadn’t been burned was still soft and alluring; though some of her rosy fur had been singed, the skin and actual leg underneath was... stimulating, to say the least. He tried to ignore that fact.
“Amy...” he imbued, before gazing back up at her. Her eyes were shut, blissfully, with an unreadable expressing plucking at her lips. Her mouth was open slightly, her tiny fangs barely visible. He stopped himself, midway up her thigh, at the hem of her short, chilled gown. The contrast was sufficient; her skin was warm and inviting, where as the gown was cool and off-turning.
She’s three years younger than you, back off, creeper, he reminded himself heavily.
“S...Sonic....?” she questioned in a murmur. Her eyes opened a crack, her eyelids concealing half of her jade eyes. She was so close... he could practically count each lengthy, lovely eyelash she had. And of course it didn’t help that she smelt engagingly like strawberries and cream, a delectable mix, at the moment. Oh, if she was older...
He withdrew his hand, embarrassed, and placed it on the back of his head. He chuckled nervously. “I... er... uhm... well...”
She raised an eyebrow, still blushing vibrantly. Why did a bright red blush look so captivating on her? Was it because it complimented her complexion?
“...Your uh... legs... they’re still nice.” he managed, eyes straying away from hers desperately, absolutely glowing with a flaming scarlet blush. She drew in a breath acutely. “Don’t... don’t worry so much about the burns. They only look a little funky, and ‘sides, you can pull them off. Think of them as like.... like funky tights or... somethin’...” he rambled, lamely, frenzied to take her and his own mind off of the sudden caressing of her bare legs.
Those soft, pretty, lush legs...
He mentally slapped himself. Stupid mind!
The corners of her mouth twitched into a smile, for a moment. She tilted her head, allowing her soft quills to fall upon her shoulders and neck like a cloth. He used all of his willpower not to lean over and run his fingers through and over them, taking in her scent and pressing his lips against her soft neck...
Once again, he mentally slapped himself. Damn!
His eyes roamed around, pleadingly, and rested on the coffee pot. The water was steaming out of the glass pot... it was probably pretty hot, warm enough to burn. Maybe not burn as badly as the burns on Amy’s legs -- soft, beautiful legs that earned himself yet another mental slap -- but still... wouldn’t it get the job done? Wouldn’t it get the word across to her? He knew she was stubborn, but this would definitely do the trick...
With a plan brewing, mischievously, he brought himself back up to his feet. He ambled over to the coffee pot and took the handle into his hands. “And I mean, if you really feel THAT self conscious about it, I could always match ya --”
“Sonic!” she gasped, eyes wide. He finally allowed himself to look back at her.
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It sucks, ya know? And... I mean, I know that looks don’t matter, right? I mean, people are gonna love me for me, regardless, so a little scarring on my legs won’t hurt anything --”
“Sonic, it hurts!” she dictated, suddenly sitting on her knees, facing him with her palms face-down on the bed. “Don’t be stupid, I’m not worth it! They’ll ache, and you need your legs to run and I couldn’t live with myself if I ruined your career and your favorite hobby --”
“Well, I feel guilty about your burns!” he snapped back before covering his mouth with his free hand. Man, I did NOT want to admit to that!
He went to withdraw his eyes from her but her own pair locked with his before he could do so. She had the most curious expression on her face; it was mostly unreadable. “Sonic...” she mumbled before holding her arms out to him, oddly enough... and her eyes were just begging him to come over and hold her, to smother her in everything he had denied her all these years... and he knew that he wanted to, and at the same time he really didn’t because he knew one thing would lead to another and he’d never be able to forgive himself if something ever happened to her...
He allowed himself to reach out with his free arm and lace his fingers with hers; the effect was like electric. He felt shivers run up his arms from the spark that came with touching her. She let out a tiny purr as she pulled on his arm. Struggling with the pot, he placed it messily on the side table next to her chocolates and plowed into her, compliments of her constant tugging. He backed away, precautionary, and struggled to distance himself from the emotional rosette.
“You big doofus -- would you just hold me, for once?!” she retorted, those jade eyes he had grown to love so much flickering passionately. “Swallow your dumb ego for one minute, huh? Nobody’s going to see!”
Turn down the invitation, turn down the invitation...
His arms, as if they had a mind of their own, found their way around the girl soothingly. He pulled her closer, nearly lifting her off of her knees, his arms practically tied around her slim waist. He pulled their chests together; they were about as close as possible, at this point. His fingers pricked against the ties in the back that held the gown to her form. Alarms began to go off in the back of his mind. Oh, God, no way no way no WAY.... Resist, resist, she’s like, not even 16 yet, that’d be so grossly WRONG...
And of course she had to sigh contently in his arms, driving parts of his brain absolutely insane. Her breath trickled across his chin as she curved her head around to face him, brushing their noses together, and her lips were just so close... were they as lovely and soft as her legs had been? Did they taste like she smelt...? He’d bet any amount of money in the world that she tasted absolutely delicious. Maybe he could kiss her, just once, to make her feel better....? Just to take her mind off of the visual flaws she now possessed that she’d have to learn to deal with, possibly? Just one kiss...?
No, because one will lead to more, and you’ll just give her false hope. You can’t have anything with her. It’d be better if she moves on. You know that.
...but she was too sly for her own good and captured his lips in her own before he could say or do anything to stop her. Her lips encased his lower one enticingly and sucked on it gently before bringing both of her lips to meet both of his own. He tried his hardest to resist her, he really did... but as soon as her tiny, adorable tongue glazed across his adamant lips, begging for entrance... well... he had her pushed down on the bed, at this point, straddled her and was kissing her, regrettably, as he would kiss a woman who was his age.
...she was 15. He was 19. Sure, she was turning 16 in a month or so, but still...
He was supporting himself up with one arm, kissing her furiously and anomalistically and using his other arm to grope at her maturing curves through the soft cotton of the hospital gown. She was still partially in an in between stage; she wasn’t yet a woman but was still, clearly, no longer a little girl. Nonetheless, she was still remotely soft in all the places she should be. He felt her struggle to match his adult-esque passion, but she was still so young and naive, it would have been bizarre for her to keep up with him. His tongue thrashed against hers as he explored the caverns of her mouth. He pulled away to breathe, momentarily, and she emitted a sensual gasp. His eye twitched. Don’t do it man, don’t do it! Back away from the beautiful girl --- she’s underage, that’s just gross and wrong and you’re not doing her any good!
She looked at him through half-lidded eyes... her muzzle exploded in a passionate blush. “Sonic...?” she mused in a breathy tone. “Why’d you stop?”
He sat up, wide eyed, and shook his head. “Jeebus, Amy -- Amy, I can’t do this, really. This... this is wrong.” he held a hand out to her, as if to help her sit up, but she ignored it, looking smug. She folded her arms across her chest and he forced himself not to stare at that particular area. “You’re too young for this -- can we take a rain check?”
“Bu...but...” she threw her arms down, wiggling her body and causing him to look forcefully at her face in fear of staring indecently at her. He had already done enough damage to her innocence in one sitting “You’re always like this! Treat me like a girlfriend, would ya, and not a little sister?!”
“Amy, we’re not dating...” he chuckled and crawled off of her, laying down next to her and joining her at staring at the ceiling. “Maybe one day when you’re older?”
“...and you still think I look pretty, right?” she eyed him.
He blushed vibrantly. “Er... yeah. You’re alright.”
“Soonic...” she growled.
Unable to admit it out loud, he displayed a thumbs up in front of her face. Seizing her opportunity, she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers with his. He attempted to tug his hand away but she pulled it down and held it, with both hands, gingerly, at her chest. She sighed contently and he struggled to ignore it. “Amy, c’mon. Give me my hand back.”
Silence.
He rolled over to see her with her eyes closed, breathing evenly. Seriously doubting that she had actually fallen asleep in that time, he allowed her his hand, at least, to cuddle with. At least this way she wasn’t pushing herself onto him, rubbing things against his body that he’d rather not feel (well, he really kind of did, but not now, anyways). He laid there next to her, running his thumb along hers... and his own eyelids grew heavy as well.
After all, it WAS like... 2 in the morning, at this point. He chuckled silently. Was he really on top of her for that long?
* * * * * * * *
...SO.
xDD
How wussit?
