I was fifteen when I met Akira.  He was sixteen at the time.  I remember the day perfectly.  I was sitting in fourth period History when my guidance counselor came knocking at the door.  After my teacher let her in, she took a deep breath and said “Here is your new student, Akira Zhang.  I expect you will treat him with the utmost respect,” and left.  At least that’s what I think happened.  I was too busy staring at Akira like every other girl in class.  He was in a word, beautiful.  He was six foot three and his body was absolutely perfect- muscled but not too much.  You could see his six pack through his shirt!  His face was perfect too.  His hair was long and black and straight and silky.  His eyes were a fantastic color that changed every minute from melty gold to light sexy green to darker emerald with mahogany hues.  They were framed with long dark lashes.  His eyes look slightly Asian in their shape.  His skin was perfect and smooth and had an amazing Mediterranean tan.  However, he looked detached, emotionless like a beautiful statue and it bothered me.  He said nothing.  My teacher gave him an empty seat in the back of the class.  It was sorta close to my seat.  He ended up next to Violet Sanders.  She was the most beautiful girl in school.  She was mean and pretty and rich and got whatever she wanted.  Very cliche but still very true.  Her hair was long and blonde like Blake Lively and had the perfect beachy waves.  Her skin was tan and her eyes were ocean blue. He didn’t react to her beauty when he saw her.  That threw her off.  She looked flustered by his apathy.  He sat down, still having said nothing.  My teacher, Mr.Hudson passed out our assignment.  We had to read a “diary entry” of a Muslim girl and try to make a list of assumptions about Islam based on the passage.  A few moments later, for the first time, Akira spoke.  He raised his hand and said “I don’t understand.”  Mr.Hudson countered with “What is not to understand?”  Akira replied that he couldn’t understand why they were doing the assignment.  Mr.Hudson said that it was to learn about Islam.  Akira countered that we wouldn’t learn anything by making even more assumptions about Islam than we already do in America.  That caused Mr.Hudson to collect all the passages up and he left the class, red in the face, claiming to go to the bathroom.  We all knew that he was just leaving to have a shot of tequila in the Attendance Office with Mr.Berkeley.  Akira just sat there and pulled out a book that, to my surprise was in Japanese. I’m fluent and literate in Brazilian Portugese, Italian, Filipino, and Farsi (my native languages) but I also knew Japanese, Okinowan, Chinese, Cantonese, English, Spanish, Classical Arabic, German, and French (I study languages in my spare time) so I knew what he was reading.  I took a slip of paper and wrote “Where did you move from?” in Japanese.  I got it passed to him.  Upon receiving it, he looked at it and put it in his pocket without looking at me.  A week passed.  It turned out that Violet wanted him and was trying her hardest and failing.  During lunch, I saw him.  He walked up to my table and handed me a small slip of paper, gave me a blank stare, and left.  It was the same one I gave him last week.  It said “I was born in Hawaii but I was raised in Japan and the Philippines” in Japanese.  After that, communication ceased.  We never talked. Ever.  But then, a few months later we were paired up for a research project in Science.  This meant we had to work outside of school.  We met up at my house, never straying from the project.  One day, I asked “Why are you so quiet?”  I had no place asking considering how shy I was.  He said       “There is no one I wish to talk to.  I’ve had it with that blonde girl always bugging me.”  “But still, you’re so quiet.  Don’t you get bored?”  “Well, it’s okay talking to you, I guess.”  “Awww.  You like me?  That’s so sweet!” I gushed sarcastically.  “I guess,” he said.  From then on, we hung out a lot.  I started to fall in love with him.  Before I knew it, I was head over heels.  Despite his cool exterior, he was really a emotional person.  His father was a rich man.  He owned a large seafood market in Japan and the Philippines.  His father was a Japanese man and his mother was a half Greek, half Spanish woman.  The marriage was arranged for money reasons.  When Akira was twelve, his little sisters and himself became stranded in India.  They wandered for three years before being found and lived in the Slums, having to protect his sisters from pimps. The day they returned home, Akira’s father beat him with a tree branch, screaming at him for being stupid enough to get lost for three years.  His angry father sent Akira and his sisters to live in America where Akira would be their primary, emancipated caregiver to teach him “responsibility.”  He had suffered so much and I was his only friend.  I didn’t think he liked me though.  I was ugly.  And boring.  One day, at my house we were hanging out when I boldly asked, “Chibi,” (I had nicknamed him that- It was the Japanese word for “cute”- he hated it) “Have you ever been in love?”  He looked unaffected.  “Yes,” he replied quietly.  “Are you currently in love with her?” I inquired.  Again, he replied “yes.”  My heart sank.  He loved another.  Why would he love me?  I was certainly nothing special.  “Is she pretty?”  “No, she is beautiful.”  Of course.  I knew she would be.  “What is she like?” I inquired further, my heart breaking more with each breath.  “Well, she is very intelligent- she knows a lot of languages.  Her favorite flowers are orchids, hibiscus, and calla lilies.  She loves Nutella on whole wheat bread and is obsessed with eating it every morning.  She likes to draw.  She hates to clean and isn’t a fan of Popsicles.”  Wow, she was a lot like me.  Before I could put the pieces together, he cradled my face in his strong yet soft hands.  He looked into my eyes with more emotion than I’d ever seen him express.  He whispered, inches from my face, “I love you.”  I was shocked and in a blind moment, I reached up and kissed him.  My first kiss.  His lips were warm and soft.  It didn’t last long.  I pulled away, my blindness gone.  My cheeks felt flushed.  I whispered “I love you too.”  He pulled me back to him and we kissed for a long while.  Before I knew it, his shirt was one the ground and mine was working its way there.  I yearned for his body and warmth and love.  I was a virgin now.  Maybe soon I wouldn’t be.  I suddenly stopped.  I pushed him away.  My family would be home soon.  I was already in an arranged marriage.  I couldn’t do this.  He looked confused.  I made him leave.  He asked what was wrong but I kept refusing to tell him.  He eventually left.  I stalked up to my room and cried.  I loved him but I was in an arranged marriage.  I was sixteen and I couldn’t make my own decisions.  A few months later, my cousin Aliana was in the hospital after attempting suicide.  She was in a coma.  She might not wake up.  It was too much.  We had played together as kids and we talked and hung out a lot. She was my best friend-the only person I’d told about Akira.  I hadn’t expected this.  I went home from the hospital while everyone else stayed.  I took a cleansing shower and exfoliated and used my face mask.  After I got out, I waxed my legs and treated my hair so it was silky and shiny down my back.  I liked to make myself over when stressed despite how little makeup I wore, if any.  I thought of Akira.  I missed him.  I wanted to talk to him.  I still loved him.  Suddenly I got an idea.  I fished through my drawers for my favorite nightgown.  It was made of white silk and was short to my mid thighs.  I combed my hair and curled my eyelashes.  I needed him so much.  I slipped on some slide-on shoes and started to walk to his house.  It was really close to mine but you could never tell with all the Carolina Countryside in the way.  When I got there, he was out front in his pajamas, thinking.  I suddenly lost my bravery and started to walk away but then he saw me.  He got up and walked toward me.  I remained frozen.  “Why are you here?” he asked coolly.  “Akira, I love you.  I’m so sorry about what happened.  I was so scared and I just couldn’t handle it.  I’m really in love with you.”  My voice cracked on the last word and my eyes were welled with tears by the time I was done talking.  His face had softened.  “It’s okay.  Don’t cry,” he said softly.  We looked up at each other, holding eye contact.  Suddenly, we kissed passionately.  I felt his yearning and love and he felt mine.  He carried me to his room.  He sat me gently on the bed and we kept kissing with more passion as time passed.  His hands moved to my shoulders and pulled down the straps.  The gown was at my hips and he gently pulled it off and dropped it on the ground.  Next he started to take off my panties.  I had worn a lacy pair for tonight.  Once again, they too were on the floor.  Next, we kissed again and I was on my back underneath him.  I pulled off his shirt and ran my hands over his strong back.  He then stood up and took off his sleeping pants and silk boxers.  He looked so beautiful like that, naked.  I was speechless.  He moved back onto the bed and we wrapped our arms around each other.  His bare skin felt so good against mine.  I liked running my hands over him and feeling the muscles as well as his smooth, warm, perfect skin. I could feel his heartbeat.  I loved how gentle he was.  I laid down so I was again on my back underneath him as opposed to sitting up.  He got on top of me.  I moved my hands onto his back.  We kissed, and kissed, and kissed, and touched, and touched again.  All of a sudden, I felt nervous.  I had never made love before.  It could be painful.  When that came around, I was so excited but so nervous.  He rubbed my back and was about to do it when I said softly, “I’m a virgin.”  He paused.  “Do you want to wait?” he asked gently.  “No,” I whispered.  He could see I was nervous. “Are you sure?”  “Uh-huh.”  “It might hurt.”  “Okay,” I said.  He pushed inside me gently.  The first thrust didn’t hurt like I expected.  He looked at my face for “okay” to do it again.  I nodded.  He thrusted in again.  He felt so warm inside me.  Oh, it felt so good.  He thrusted faster and I panted more and it felt better each time.  I felt something amazing coming but I had no idea as to what it was.  I dug my nails into his hips and he pushed harder.  I moaned.  He whispered my name.  But then, it happened.  I felt like, the stars had aligned and made Akira and I a whole entity.  I knew he had one too because I had never seen that look on his face before.  We kept going and aligned to stars again.  After that, I felt so tired.  I fell asleep in his bed.  I woke up on his bare chest.  He awoke when I did and said “Maybe you should get some more sleep.  I love you,” and kissed me lightly.  “Okay.  I love you too,” I whispered.  I fell asleep in time to see Akira getting out of bed.  I awoke a couple hours later but I was alone.  It was ten o’ clock in the morning.  Akira was gone, nowhere to be found.  I waited for him for a couple hours but still no show.  His sisters were gone for the week, visiting his parents but he wasn’t allowed to come.  I started to freak out.  He left me after making love to me.  I started to cry.  I was all alone now.  I had no one else, not even my family.  After all, they did arrange this betrothment to some guy.  My only supporter was in the hospital.  I cried more.  I left.  I stayed in my room and cried all day.  I felt so hurt.  He called me and I wouldn’t answer.  The next week, he approached me in school.  I refused to talk to him.  A couple weeks passed and he finally got the message.   One day, I was sitting in my room doing homework.  I looked at my calendar and I saw my period week marked.  It was last week.  I still had not gotten it.  Then it hit me, Akira and I didn’t use protection.  That meant I could be pregnant.  I got an at-home test to take- it was positive.  This was bad, real bad.  He didn’t even love me.  I couldn’t abort though.  I wanted to keep my baby.  I was still avoiding Akira.  I still loved him though.  I felt so confused him.  Even if he didn’t love me, he would love the baby, right?  What if he ran or said the baby wasn’t his?  Eventually a few months later, I decided to tell him.  At school, the next day, I approached him.  He said coolly, “What do you want?”  “I need to speak with you.”  “About what?”  “I can’t say it here.  Meet me at the tree on the end of our street.  Tonight.”  “Sure,” he said, irritated.  When it came time, I chickened out.  I was too scared.  I stayed in my room the rest of the day and slept.  I awoke in the middle of the night with a wierd feeling.  I felt like someone was watching me.  I saw a figure in the darkness.  I was too scared to scream.  “Shhh,” he said.  Oh my god!  He’s a rapist.  God help me!  “It’s me, Akira,” he said and stepped forward.  It was him.  Before I could ask why he was in my room at two in the morning, he said “Why did you want to talk to me today?”  I didn’t know what to say.  “I um, I uh,” I stammered.  This was too much.  I felt my hormones kick in.  I started to sob.  He looked at me, confused.  He sat on the bed and rubbed my back and said soothingly, “It can’t be that bad,”and wrapped his arms around me.  “Shhh,” he whispered and wiped a tear from my cheek.  “Akira, I-I’m, um,” I stuttered.  ” You’re what?” he asked.  “I’m, uhhh, pregnant. I’m so sorry.”  “It’s okay,” he said.  He said “We’ll get through this together.  We love each other and we will be good parents to this baby.  I love you and my unborn child more than life itself.”  I was touched by his words.  “I love you too.”  Telling my parents didn’t go very well.  I ended up living in Akira’s house with his two little sisters.  They were adorable and beautiful like tiny dolls.  Reiko and Saki.  Saki was outgoing while Reiko was shy.  They were twins.  Reiko and Saki both had large, round Asian eyes like apricots.   Reiko had watery blue-grey eyes and silky straight jet black hair and creamy, milky skin.  Saki had slighter darker, golden skin, toffee coloured ringlets and lovely, golden eyes.  They were seven.  They knew I was with their brother and they treated me so kindly.  When the day came, I was in the hospital room.  Akira’s family had taken a liking to me and allowed him back into the family and all of them were at the hospital.  The contractions hurt.  Bad.  I was giving birth to my baby but then everything went black.  I woke up, tired and sore.  Akira was at my bedside.  “What happened?” I asked.  “You don’t remember?” he said, looking puzzled.  “No.”  He called the doctor in.  “Oh it’s fine,” he said, “Many women experience bouts of amnesia in pregnancy and childbirth.”  He looked relieved.  “What happened?” I asked again.  “Would you like to see?” said Akira.  “Okay.”  He left for a moment and to my surprise came back with my mom.  She was angry with me because of my pregnancy.  They were each carrying something.  Akira came over and asked if I wanted to see my babies.  I was confused.  He explained I had given birth to twins.  I nodded.  He handed me the bundle in his arms.  “Say hello to your mommy,” Akira cooed, so unlike him.  It was a boy. His hair was straight like silk and jet black like Akira’s, they had the same eye shape and eyelashes but his were more gold in color like a tiger.  My son’s skin was more olive with gold undertones like me. He had my ears and fingers and fine yet thick hair.  He was beautiful.  His lips and miniature nose were perfect.  I loved him. The pain was completely worth it.  I nourished him and cradled him in my womb.  My mother walked over carrying my other child.  “Here,” she said smiling as she gave me the baby.  I immediately loved her just like her brother.  Her hair was silky, a soft charcoal black with red and brown in it like mine, thick, curly into ringlets and waves, with fine hair strands and lots of them just like me.  Her skin was the same as her brother’s and mine.  Her eyes were shaped like mine and large as apricots with long, black lashes fluttering out just like mine.  Her eye color was even the same as me though it was much more beautiful on her- switching between a piercing, baby blue and midnight blue and violet.  Her tiny nose and tiny, rosebud lips were perfect.  Her cheeks were flaming with color.  I was a pround, seventeen year old mother.  I chose their names, Sean and Camilla.  I nursed them for the first time.  I felt so close to my babies, feeding them my own snow-coloured milk.  We all lived with Akira close to his family and lived happily ever after.

(Screen) Name: Harlequin Snow