Fallen Angels

AN: This is probably going to be a very disturbing (but potentially erotic) story. Read at your own risk.

I was something of an artist myself. I’d had fun trying my hand at it, anyways. That’s why I found myself watching the girl painting. She was quite cute, with bouncy brown hair, and sparkling green eyes. She had a round face with just-right pink lips. I guessed her age around 14 or 15, but I couldn’t quite be certain.
Her brush was creating a dreamlike representation of the fountain and the park spread out in front of her, and I must say, she was doing a much better attempt at art than I’d ever accomplished.
I watched her for several minutes, appreciating her skill at art, and also her beauty. Then I couldn’t wait any longer and I went over to meet her.
“Hello, there.” My voice startled her out of her intense concentration on her art.
“Oh, hello. Is there something I can do for you?” I could tell she was irritated with being interrupted, but was trying to look friendly.
“Probably not.” I said, laughing. “I had just been watching you paint and was quite impressed.”
“Mm, thank you.” She said, then turned back to her painting. I stood behind her, watching again. I hadn’t meant to, but I was obviously still irritating her. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“No, I’m sorry. Do you mind if I watch you paint? I do so love the painting.” I said.
She didn’t really know what to say to that, then decided.
“Well, at least sit down. It gets on my nerves for you to stand behind me and watch over my shoulder. If you must watch me, just sit down.”

That was when I first met her. Turns out her name is Alicia. After a rather… difficult start, I think we became friends. Pretty close ones at that.
She is still irritated any time I watch her when she’s painting… its very personal for her, painting is. But she stopped being so irritated with me, and we got along pretty good.
We kept meeting for several months, normally by accident in the park. I wondered that we’d never met before, because we apparently were both in the park a lot. I loved being there because… well, to say the least my life had been stressful, and the quietness of nature helped to soothe my troubled soul.
Turns out, she was there for much the same reasons. Her parents were going through a messy divorce, and her brother had gotten himself killed a couple months back for trying to get out of a drug gang. And her sister was the “city’s biggest slut” as Alicia said. And that was saying something, since we weren’t exactly in a tiny city.
Apparently, her sister had a new guy to screw every second night. And that’s how she wanted it.
It was no wonder that Alicia had turned to painting. My attempts at art just got me irritated because they never turned out how I wanted them to be. I’ve always been a perfectionist, though, so maybe that’s part of the reason.
One form of art that I’m good with is music, though. I play several instruments, and whenever I play it feels like I’m flying on wings. Especially piano, because it was my best instrument. It was one thing in life that I could control, one thing in life that I was good at.
But Alicia and I became really good friends, and as the days progressed, we spent more and more time together. We enjoyed each other’s company and found that we were companion spirits. We both enjoyed much of the same stuff and, despite our age difference, had a lot of fun together.

But there were also the times that I was with her and she didn’t know. I still enjoyed watching her, and I could find nothing wrong with it. It’s not like she didn’t know I was interested in her. Or at least, I think she knew. I’d never tried to hide it, but maybe she figured that because of our age difference it was solely us being good friends.
I had an apartment that overlooked the park, and most days I would watch her for an hour or so before going down to see her. And sometimes, I followed her after I’d said I was going home. I’d watch her again until she decided to leave the park, and I would follow her. I’d found out in the first week just where she lived and most of her schedule.
Its not that I was obsessed or anything, I had just taken an honest interest in the girl. I wasn’t doing anything illegal following her, I was just curious.
And sometimes… I thought I could feel her following me. She didn’t know where my apartment was, but maybe I should invite her over one time…

And I did just that. One day when it was raining, I watched her for a half-hour, then went out with my umbrella and jacket and boots, and I invited her up to my apartment for a cup of tea.
She had the cutest pink rain-jacket, and matching pink boots. She had no umbrella, but had pulled her hood up to keep her head dry. I took her jacket, and her hair was a bit mussed-up because of her hood, but I thought it was cute.
Her intense green eyes darted around my apartment taking in my meager furnishings and sparse decoration. I’d never had much time for decorating my apartment and was quite happy with things being simple. But for some reason, I felt embarrassed during her scrutinizing of things. I wanted her to like my apartment, and… I was worried that she wouldn’t.
“I love it!” She exclaimed, flopping down on the sofa.
“Do you really? I know it’s a bit bare, but… its home.” I replied.
“Of course I love it! It must be so cool to be able to live on your own.” Her face glowed with happiness. That’s what I loved about her. No matter how bad her situation seemed, she could always find a way to be happy.
“Its okay, I guess. It gets lonely sometimes. I just couldn’t live at home any more. I moved out when I was 17. I’ll be turning 19 in a week.”
“Really? Cool! We’re going to hafta have a party for you!”
“I’d like that, actually.” I laughed. “Maybe one day you could move in with me and we could live together.” I held my breath, worried that she would freak out at the suggestion.
“REALLY?!?!?” She was ecstatic. “I’d love to!!!”
“That’d be a lot of fun. Maybe you could teach me to paint!”
She laughed at that, then glanced at where I had a few of my paintings on the wall. “They’re not as bad as you think they are. I like your paintings. They’re just done in a different style from mine. That doesn’t make them bad or anything. They’re just different.”
“Awww, thanks.” I said, touched. The tea kettle whistled, and I poured two cups for us. “Do you take anything in your tea?”
“Mmm, probably just a bit of milk, thank you.” She said, bobbing her head a bit in decision. It was another one of her cute little mannerisms.
“And then there’s me that murders my tea…” I laughed again, scooping in several spoonfuls of sugar and pouring in a fair bit of milk.
I sat down and handed her the cup of tea with a little bit of milk. We chatted about everything and nothing as we always did when we were together.
All too soon, she said it was time to go. I offered to walk her home since, to my surprise, it was already dark outside and still raining, and she accepted.

I met her mother, and she thought it was wonderful that I was being such a friend to Alicia. Her house was larger than mine – almost anything is bigger than my apartment – but somehow my apartment seemed much more like a home than her house. I had felt her tense up as soon as we neared the place.
“She needs someone like you in her life. Poor thing, she gets so upset when me and John fight.” That was her mother talking, of course.
That was when I suggested maybe her staying at my house for a night. Her mother loved the idea, so a week later, I was at my house preparing a small party for my 19th birthday party. She had insisted. I was just waiting for her to show up.
At 4:00 PM, the little buzzer sounded and I let her in.
“YAY! This is going to be so much fun! I bet you didn’t get a birthday party last year… we can make up for this one by making it extra special!” She grinned at the thought. She was so sweet…so innocent. Always doing thoughtful things for other people.
I knew at this point that I was hopelessly in love with her. Some people would say that I was a “creeper” or a pedophile just because I love someone younger than myself. But what’s so wrong with that? Just because I’m 6 years older than her doesn’t make me a freak.
Oh yeah, how I’m six years older than her? I found out that she’s actually 13 years old. She looks older than her age. I think it’s cute.
She had two parcels with her, and I’d grown curious as to what they were. She winked when I asked.
“One of them is your cake – I just had to get you a cake,” She said that at my startled look, “and the other is a present. Oh, come on. You can’t have expected me to come here without a present. … Did you?” She laughed when I nodded.
She set the cake on the counter and unwrapped it. Wow. It was beautiful. White icing surrounded layers of fluffy vanilla cake, and there were beautiful pink frosted roses on the top, with “Happy Birthday, Chris” written in beautiful looped letters. I could tell from the look of the cake that she’d made it herself.
I had to hug her for it. It was absolutely gorgeous. The soft touch of her body against mine, and the cake, that is.
She had also brought a few games over. I hadn’t seen that part of the package, obviously. Pin the tail on the donkey.
Oooh, she was sure vicious about spinning me when I was blindfolded. The soft touch of her hands spinning me around, and around… once I “accidentally” lost my balance and grabbed onto her.
And then when it was her turn, my hands hesitated on her before I let her go. She was too involved in the game to notice, of course.

We had so much fun at the party, and then she stayed over. My bed was a double bed, and we both crawled into it. Just the thought of her sleeping in the same bed as me made me start burning.
“Thank you so much for having this party for me…” I whispered into the darkness. She rolled over and hugged me at that.
“But of course! We couldn’t not have had this party! We have to stick together, you and me. We’ve both had un-perfect lives… the two outcasts need to be together forever.”

Those words burned into my memory. Forever. I could make that happen…

Life continued like that for day after glorious day. I had her over to my apartment several other times, I came to find out her favorite foods, and lots of other stuff. Her favorite color, her favorite flowers, her favorite kinds of candy, everything.

That was the night the dreams started. I had never really thought of her that way before. Admittedly I admired her body and was attracted to her, but I had never really… thought of her that way.
She lay there, chained to a bed, my bed, her legs spread wide in invitation, body glistening with sweat, muscles tensed, chest heaving. Sharp, strong, ragged breaths being drawn by us both, my hand found its way between her legs, and my fingers buried themselves deep within her body, and I drove them in and out relentlessly. She moaned desperately and arched, trembling, as she came violently.
I awoke, sweaty and shaking; feeling heavily aroused. I wanted her so badly, now. My hand slowly wandered to between my legs, I started gently rubbing myself. Oh, God. I needed her. I needed to have her one of these days. I started imagining what had happened in my dream again… the desire grew to a near-unbearable level. I increased my speed, and eventually… oh sweet holiness. The pleasure was mind-blowing. If a mere fantasy of her could do this to me…

Originally, I thought that I would tell her of my desire for her, maybe we could be together, her being my girlfriend or something like that. Then I realized how stupid it would be of me to even imagine informing her of such feelings. If I wanted to lose her friendship, then I could tell her what I required from her. But, as she herself had wanted… I wanted to remain with her forever, and forever. Now just how to accomplish both us being together, and me getting to use that beautiful little body of hers?
I decided that it would be best… to figure out a way to get her parents to let her live with me. Let me become her legal guardian… without anybody else knowing, of course. That was when poor Alicia’s life fell apart a bit more. Her mother was killed.