They'd got hold of all my family's medical records, and had also concocted a cover story - a toxic spill from a tanker-truck in a road accident near our home - to require all local inhabitants to get medical tests. The CIA had told my family that their tests had been positive (lies, as the tanker hadn't been carrying anything toxic), and they'd 'urgently' got my family to make themselves the willing victims of a considerably battery of follow-up tests, worrying my loved ones greatly. Ever since, every now and then a CIA scientist studying on my body parts has thought of a new test to perform on my family, so they've been repeatedly reminded to feel fear about the tanker spill. Fortunately for my family, their results have all been very boringly normal and the CIA has lost most of its interest in them. I would have appended " ... thank goodness" on the end of the previous sentence, but I don't think goodness has much to do with the CIA.Once my tortured body and mind have recovered,. She pushed me towards the door and said, “You need to go before people start talking.” “Let them talk. I don’t care. I am here.”I pulled her back to me and kissed her. There was a lock of her on her cheek and I moved it and kissed her cheek. She giggled and said, “Make up your mind.” I smiled and said I can’t. She just kissed me back.“Ok, you should definitely get going.” But I disobeyed myself and pulled her again. Our bodies tussled to be together. To be away from each other.“You should really make up your mind.” She bit my lips.With tremendous willpower, I let her go. Not because I cared what people thought; but because she wanted to.Before the end of the party, we sneaked a few more kissing. She threw me on the bed once and climbed onto me, not giving a damn about anything. I lifted her and carried her to the door and let her down, and gave her a final kiss.I knew she had a boyfriend. Or at least a love that she could never let go. Even tonight, even in my arms. It was a fragile.
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