"Everything I touch dies." She whispers, pulling her hand away before touching my cheek.

"Why do you say that, Clara?" I ask softly, tearing my eyes away from her soft, pink lips.

"My father." She says simply, though those two words don't explain it.

"What about your father?"

"He died... because of me." She bites her bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt.

I abruptly stand from my seat on her bed. "Is that really what you believe?"

I remember her father. He was kind, loving. He loved everyone like they were his family, but the way he looked at his daughter, the woman standing a few feet away from me right now, told me that he would kill himself millions of times if it was for her.  

A few years ago, he was in a car accident. No one at school knew what happened, all they knew was he had an accident and died. No one besides his family and I knew what exactly happened. It was murder. A criminal purposely drove him off the road. 

The killer admitted it, before being sentenced to a life sentence.

How, you might ask, do I know all this? Because I was the witness, I was the one who saw the car accident, saw how both cars collided and flipped in the air, before smashing into concrete. I was the one who called 911, and watched helplessly as a father, a husband, a loved one was murdered.

It wasn't fair that a criminal lived, and a good, honest man died.

Of course, I never told his daughter that I saw the accident happen. I thought it would be too painful, that she wouldn't want to hear it.

I take a step towards Clara, and her sapphire eyes shift to my face, then to my lips.

"It's not your fault." The color sapphire meets my eyes. "It isn't." I insist.

Before she can argue back, my lips connect with hers.

She starts, surprised, but I keep kissing her, gentler now. Her lips are softer than I imagined, which makes me want to kiss her harder, fiercer. But I resist the urge, keeping my patience in check. I don't want to push her; I know it will only distance her more. When I pull back, she looks flushed and doesn't speak.

"Sorry, I just..." Shaking my head, I take a deep breath and avert my eyes. Lips suddenly meet mine, and retreat before I can react. I stare at Clara.

"I... don't know why you kissed me, but I liked it." Clara tells me, wrapping my arms around her waist. She starts telling me about her father, and what happened. She seems to relax a little more with each word.

I just look at her and listen carefully as she tells me everything.