It was too late now or maybe too early. The moment wasn't right; it didn't feel like 'the' moment that was supposed to exist as was written in the books and portrayed in the movies. It wasn't John Lee's Eros or Ludus type of love. It fell somewhere between problematic and a big mistake, but that didn't matter to them. It didn't matter in the moment of desperation and greed.

It was rare. Their physical touches weren't about giving desire, it was only about taking it but somehow that worked for them. Somehow in their state of wanting their own satisfaction they managed to hand it over to each other. Perhaps that's what made it so different, unique. Both of them knew how they ended up here, like this. They understand the path that led them here and they understood the path would crack and they would walk away separately.

It meant nothing. It had to mean nothing when it came down to the harsh truth of their world. They didn't like each other, not really. Better people that suited them surrounded them both. They had better choices and better experiences waiting for them. They had people who understood them much better than they tried to understand each other.

It could only happen once, but that's what they said before. They were both used to making mistakes and not being able to live up to their words and their promises. Sometimes life got in the way of a promise and they both understood that. Life got in the way a lot, like work got in the way a lot.

It was convenient. They worked together. They knew each other's schedules and knew when they could arrange to meet. There was immediate understanding when they had to cancel. There was immediate understanding when they didn't want to talk about their days. There was immediate understanding when they were in pain. There was immediate understanding.

It was mere attraction they needed to get out of their systems. Once they fucked enough it was bound to go away, they naively thought. They both were naïve. They thought they were in control the entire time, and for the most part they were. They kept talking to a minimum, only lovers talked to each other. They didn't stick around to hold one another, only lovers held each other.

They were addicted to each other.

It was damaging them. Doing this, meeting and sharing meaningless sex was damaging them. They were trying so hard to tell themselves that it wasn't the right moment, that it was a rare miscellaneous occurrence in their busy lives, that it meant nothing, that it could happen once and if not that much then only a few times, that it was convenient, that it was an attraction that needed only to be worked out of their systems.

This couldn't be worked out like desalinating seawater to make it drinkable. This wasn't drinkable, not anymore. It wasn't working, not how they wanted it to.

It couldn't work when they got jealous seeing each other with other people. It couldn't work when they no longer wanted to only satisfy their selfish desires. It couldn't work if they started caring and telling themselves that they no longer disliked the woman they were holding onto as they climaxed.

Never mind them being naïve, they were stupid. Stupid to think they could accomplish something that was completely against who they were. Stupid to think they could throw out the passions that existed in them both for so many things and stupid to think that the passion wouldn't spill over into this monstrosity of a love affair.

Their emotions first boiled over in the form of their rage and anger. They fought each other at work, getting more than one warning to shape up and play fair. They were scolded like children for their petty bickering about foolishly made up points of contention.

The anger didn't last long. They couldn't keep up with it and live. So their answer was in this moment, in this 'last time'. Their answer was in one last meeting and then it would never happen again. Everything would come out in this moment and they could walk away to seek out a companion that would suit them better. Each of them already had someone else in mind.

"I love you."

It wasn't a mistake only one of them made. They said it together. They said it together while their clothes were still on, making it that much more of a mistake. Saying it like this meant they couldn't explain it away as being said while lost in their carnal stupors. Saying it like this meant they had to face it. It meant they had to do something other than pretend like it wasn't there.

"What?"

Catherine stayed away from the bed ominously situated between them. She even took a step away from it afraid it could suck her in somehow into a world she was sure she didn't want to fall into, a world she wasn't ready to fall into. For so long she sought out a connection to another human soul and now it was in front of her, and she was terrified of it.

"Why?"

Sara wasn't as worried about the bed as she was the door. She didn't want to run out of it like a foolish teenage girl who couldn't handle life, but more importantly she didn't want Catherine to run out of it either. She couldn't handle it if Catherine decided to leave her. For so long she sought out a connection to another human soul and now it was in front of her, and she was terrified of it.

"You're like no one I've ever met, Sara. I know I shouldn't care this much, there's a thousand reasons why I shouldn't, but I do."

"I know. It's so stupid. But, Catherine, I can't let it go."

It was a mistake. They were both sure of it. It wouldn't work out. They were too different and too similar all at the same time. They were colors that didn't go together.

They were?perfect.