Little Dots.

It had been years since the need for a loving mother and a tissue box, but the war against the freckles continued. This time the makeup was more effective, but in turn was more expensive. Egos weren't as fragile as before, and in the midst of all the hustle-and-bustle, the little dots took a back seat in Jan's life.

Yet even then, there were lapses in her control. Odd bouts of sobbing and cursing, of glaring pitifully at her tear-stained face in the mirror, wishing that she could wash those stupid specks of dirt from her skin.

With them, she would never feel beautiful.

That is, until Ahmed came along.

With skin the colour of her freckles and eyes just as warm, a simple glance would take your breath away. With a voice as sweet as a honey comb, a single word would cause your heart to melt.

And so Jane traded in her goopy foundation for goopy, fluttery insides instead.

Smiles and giggles replaced sobbing in the bathroom and with every compliment about her hair, her lips, her body, the freckles were pushed farther and farther into the back of Jane's mind.

Yet their love for each other didn't bloom; instead it swelled like a wave, hovering precariously in the air, unsure of when it was about to fall.

And when they crashed upon the sand -- oh, it was horrific.

--

"You're being stupid!" Janet shouted, throwing her hands up in a way that could only be called ridiculous. Clothes flew around the room like confused seagulls mooching for food and Ahmed's voice interrupted Jan's angry rant.

"Oh, am I now?" He retorted, throwing a lacy bra onto the ground in a failed attempt at looking dramatic. His eyes were no longer warm as he glared at her. Frustrated fingers pulled at his thick hair, the strands standing up at odd angles.

"Yes! You are! Stop spewing all this b-bull shit." The curse felt wrong in her mouth, like the syllables were passing over a numbed tongue. With a huff, she picked up the brassiere before stuffing it back in the tattered suitcase from whence it came.

"It's not bullshit if I'm asking you to sleep with me after being in a relationship for two years," Ahmed muttered, his voice chillingly quiet in contrast to Jan's yelling. His icy eyes seemed to thaw in a moment of hope as the girl gaped at him.

No matter what she tried, words would not expel themselves from her mouth; they were dissolved the moment they passed her quivering lips. The boy took his chance and strode forward, pushing the luggage away from her clutching fingers. Without the suitcase to hold onto, Jan's courage shuddered and crumbled.

Dust motes danced in the sunlight like they did so many years before, as she sat on the bed and cried. Tears were wiped away as they washed over the nearly-forgotten freckles, this time with different fingers, but they were just as gentle.

"I-I'm just scared," whispered the girl through wobbling lips, her eyes trained on the clenched hands in her lap. "Ahmed, I'm a virgin."

--

And as the wave crashed into nothingness, its pieces drew back into the sea to reform, creating another swell that would eventually raise into a mighty crest, leaving the cycle to continue.

Admist the hustle and bustle of building waves, Janet would eventually learn to love those annoying spots, those little dots.

But time would only tell when.