Author's Notes: Thanks to Brooklinegirl for the beta!

Ray sat Indian-style on the light pink rug in Stella's bedroom. Stella's parent's had air conditioning in the whole house, so her room was always cold and mostly smelled like flowers. He tried not to look down too much; tried not too notice how old his jeans were, or how every time he moved, dirt from the knees of his jeans puffed off, leaving a trail of dust all over that cold, pink rug.

"Ok. Ready. Gimme your finger."

He looked up just in time to see Stella flipping her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. She sat down in front of him, crossing her legs so that her knees touched his.

Ray rolled his eyes. "God, Stel. This is so lame."

"It is not," Stella huffed, taking his hand in hers and flipping it over, palm side up. Her fingers, long and slender, curled around his, her skin soft and very white next to his own. "We're going to be going to different schools on Monday and -"

"And we go to different schools now," Ray argued for what felt like the millionth time in two days. "It's not like, now I see you all the time and next week I won't see you at all. It'll be just the same."

Stella's eyes were wide and her bottom lip trembled. "But we're going to new schools - new middle schools - and we'll both be meeting new people and doing new things, and I just..." she trailed off and bit her lip as she looked off to the side. "I just don't want you to forget about me," she finished softly, and Ray turned his hand over and laced his fingers with hers.

"Hey," he said, squeezing her hand until she turned her head back to look at him. "I'm not gonna forget you, I could never. You're my Stella."

And when she asked him for his hand again, he said yes. He knew with Stella he would always say yes.

She pressed the pin against the pad of his finger. It hurt - just for a split second - and when she pulled the pin away a dark drop of blood welled up where she had stuck him. He squeezed the middle of his finger with his other hand, forcing the blood to come out more, turning the tip of his finger a funny shade of purple.

Stella said she was ready, so he looked over and saw her doing the same thing, squeezing her finger, forcing out the blood. The pin was lying on the rug next to her knees, the tip leaving a faint streak of red on the pale, pink carpet.

Ray reached out his hand and pressed the tip of his finger to hers, watching their two drops of blood smoosh together, some of it dripping down, seeping deep into the rug.

He held his finger against hers and looked into her eyes until he could feel the beat of his heart match hers through their fingertips. Until he couldn't feel the difference between where his skin ended and hers began. Until the stain set into the carpet and dried, leaving a mark that would never come out.