Secret: (adj) 1. Not widely known. 2. Unadmitted. 3. Mysterious and beyond common knowledge. 4. Something private and secluded. 5. Without anyone else's knowledge.

"I wanted to be a ballerina." Lucas looked up at her, his head in her lap. Her fingers nestled in his onyx tresses. Lucas brought them back to his apartment still quiet and distant. It was the first time they'd said anything in what felt like hours. "I begged and begged for lessons but..."

"But you didn't get them?"

"No, I got them and a nice slice of reality. It just wasn't what I was hoping for." She scrambled for the perfect words to describe what she felt.

Envious, that's how she felt whenever she saw little girls in their tutus. She'd begged and pleaded with her parents as a child for lessons.

"My grandmother made me a red tutu. She said, baby, pink is much too common but red they'd remember you no matter what you did. They'd always remember the girl in the red tutu."

She would practice and practice. Endure all of her sisters' fat jokes until her toes bled. She ignored the pointed whispers of her classmates and even her teacher's discouragements. She ignored it all, excelled despite all their contradictions.

He laced fingers with her, voice muted as he spoke. "Don't stop talking."

"She was right about the tutu." Her teacher had seen the overweight girl covered in cotton, latex, and sheer and dubbed her cherry. Her classmates had not been that kind--they'd filled her locker with putrid tomatoes and taken to calling her tomato when the teacher wasn't around and ‘Mato' when she was. "She was right about a lot of things."

"I practiced and practiced until I thought I'd faint from exhaustion. My teacher had even given me one of the leading parts. I was cast as Noosa the troll princess. Till this day I still think it was to spite me but I took my part very seriously."

Lucas kissed the back of her hand but Bea just droned on, her voice flat and her eyes staring straight in front of her. She bit her bottom lip. Her breathe hitched, "I-I wrote the date down in every planner and calendar I could get my hands on. I reminded them for weeks beforehand."

It was her first recital and she reserved front row seats for her whole family. She was so proud of herself and just wanted to show her parents how good she really was. Then the curtains opened and she danced her heart out. When she finally swallowed her nerves and looked down into the crowd hoping to find her sisters slack jawed, her mother proud of her for once, and her father actually looking at her and seeing her as a person. Instead, she was met by reality; her row was empty. All the reminding she'd done, all her practicing, was all for nothing.

"But it just wasn't important enough." She laughed but it sounded more like a sob. "My grandmother sent Nikko down to the school to record her 'swan princess'. She made a dinner in my honor." She bit her bottom lip and stuttered as if she was subconsciously reliving the ordeal. He rubbed her hand, willing her back to him. He sat up and kissed her. His hands holding her face as he randomly planted butterfly kisses on her face until he touched her lips, kissing her with so much passion it overwhelmed her.

When Lucas kissed Bea he wanted it to be different, even though their mouths were open he didn't go that far. He kissed her with every intention of kissing away the pain. He didn't like the lost look on her face or the blankness of her eyes.

~~~

No, he wasn't supposed to look at another woman like that, only her. As she stared down at the photos, she felt irate. She wanted to yell and scream, break shit, but a proper lady always walks away. She knows her limits and is A-Okay with them. She was A-O-fucking-kay with it.

However, as she stared at the photos she knew what had to be done. How dare he? She threw the pictures along with the day's paper off her oak desk, too angry to remember her well-bred upbringing. She spoke loudly her accent ringing with question. "How dare he desire that fat nothing over me?"

She walked over to the cabinet filling her glass with whiskey. Mozart blared in the background as she downed the glass' contents, shuddering as it scorched its way down her throat, warming her chest. With an angry flick, she tossed the glass; it exploded against the wall with shards glinting upon the wood floors. Lucas was hers and there was no way she was going to let that bint keep him.

~~~
Bea was important too Lucas. She made him happy, so very happy. He wasn't quite sure what it was about her that made her do important. She'd made her way under his skin, wedged herself inside of his chest cavity, and dug her heels into the surrounding tissues refusing to let go.

It had to be the lost look in her eyes that made him want to stop the pain. That look made him feel hopeless, so vulnerable. It made him feel like the little boy waiting for his mother to come home. She never did. The boy waiting in the police station for a grandmother he'd never known. He hated that feeling. Most of all he hated the watching her reopen old scars, relive that pain

She didn't have to hurt. Not if he could change that. He did the only thing he knew how to do, the only thing his mother had ever bothered to teach him.

Sex is a great bargaining chip.

~~~
"Where's Bea?" Julia flopped down onto the lazy boy located in the far right corner facing a window. The blinds were open letting the bustling lights of the street below pour into the room and throw shadows. Marcus cooed from his carrier tiny fist up and waving about his cherubic face.

She moved from her seat to take him up in her arms. "This is your aunties place you like it?"

He cooed and smiled that toothless smile.
~~~

"L-l-l-Lucas."She tugged at his hair, attempted to arch away from his skilled tongue only to find his hands gripping her hips holding her in place. His beard stubble rasped against her inner thighs. Her hips bucked as he lapped at her bundle of nerves bringing it between his lips. "Lucas?"

He was calm, stoic, and utterly detached while she was hot and breathless. It felt different like she wasn't with Lucas. Like there was a complete and total stranger between her legs. She didn't like it, not one bit. It was as if he was on autopilot. He wasn't gentle, passionate, or even there with her. She called his name tried to find him."Lucas?"

"Baby?" She tugged at his hair, arching her body away from his mouth and hands. Grey eyes looked up at her, glazed and so distant they spoke in volumes. With an unsure hand, she reached her fingers gracing the crown of his head; unsure of how he'd react to her touch. "Where were you?"

He rose to his knees, her eyes following the beautiful tanned expanse of his shoulders. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, panties somewhere and her blouse was missing some buttons. Lucas moved until his head was resting on her stomach; his chest cushioned by the breadth of her hips and thighs.

"I...I'm right here...with you. Right here with you." He leaned up and brushed his lips against her cold fingertips and palm. Luminous grey orbs bore into chocolate melting and searing. He wanted to lie there so bad as long as it meant being next to her. However, he knew he shouldn't not when they weren't very sure about where they stood. He wanted to make her talk but he didn't want to coerce it out of her he wanted her to talk to him. Lucas wasn't sure what happened when she ran from his apartment. From him.