This is just for the lovely people who read my story Give Your Heart a Break, and favorited, Followed, or reviewed. I love you guys.
"Ugh, I can't believe you!" I shrieked. His eyes flashed angrily.
"Me? Oh, this isn't about me. This is about you and your problems!"
"MY PROBLEMS!?"
He seemed to realize he'd gone to far. Slight fear and guilt crept into his eyes. But his pride held him to his words.
My voice lowered from its hestarical pitch, and I gathered myself.
"Get out." I ordered shakily, pointing at the door.
"What?" his voice was sharp and slightly horrified. Wether the horror was imagined or not, it cut through me like a knife.
I almost forgave him.
Key word: Almost.
But I couldn't give in now. My pride wouldn't let me. We were so alike, both prideful and stubborn. So I took a deep breath, and continued quietly.
"You heard me, take what you need and get out."
He stared at me, stormy gray eyes fuming, pleading.
I almost forgave him again.
Key word: Almost.
I bit my lip to keep from crying. We faced off for a second, a battle of the wills. A wicked staring contest. Brown vs gray. Then, to my utter shock, his shoulders slumped. He did the one thing he never did. He gave in. He tore his eyes from mine and surrendered. He must have read my surprise from behind my carefully crafted mask of indifference, because he chuckled humorlessly.
"Ok, you win, I'll get what I need and leave." his voice cracked at the word leave. I was surprised by how much the one slip up hurt me.
He stepped forward and scooped me up, starting for the door. My arms went around his neck out of habit. I cursed my impulsiveness in my head. His strong muscled arms lifted me effortlessly and my vision blurred with tears briefly at the familiarity. I blinked them away and coughed in an attempt to regain composure. He stopped as my breath brushed his neck.
"What are you doing?" I whispered into his ear, my voice choked.
"You said I could take what I needed." he muttered.
I gasped. Screw composure. Silent tears slid down my cheeks and I gave in and put my head on his shoulder and cried.
I cried at the utter cheesiness of the situation and how unbelievably sweet it was.
He didn't do cheesy and sweet.
I cried and he just stood there. But that was all I needed. Eventually I ran out of tears and just left my head in his now damp shirt. I hadn't noticed before, but he was playing with my fiery red curls, balancing my slight frame while twisting them around his finger.
"Hey Chlo?" he asked quietly, seemingly fascinated by my wild hair.
"Yeah?" I winced at my voice. It sounded scratchy, as though I hadn't used it in a while. He didn't seem to care.
"What were we fighting about?"
I chuckled.
"You know, I don't really remember."