Nothing was cuter than when he was silent. It was most of the time, but she didn't like to talk either- she just liked to see him think, lay back in his chair, those dark eyes of his clouded.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked.
Pav looked at her, and leaned forward. "You," he said.
"Little old me? How sweet."
He was serious. "A lot about you. Kind of like... doing this..."
He got up, walked towards her and pressed his lips onto hers. The wall was the only thing keeping her up as his lips melted into hers effortlessly. When he pulled away, she thought, Damn, he's a good kisser.
"Did that answer your question?" he asked.
"Yes and no," she said.
"What were you thinking of?"
"This."
She kissed him again, her hands running up his neck and resting at the nape. Her touch gave him a tingly feeling all over- something about her was so sexy, even if she wasn't quite his type of girl. But types changed, and she was so damn tantalizing- like the prizes at the fair that you couldn't get, no matter how many times you tried to play the stupid game. Everyone knew the games were crooked, yet they still played.
"You know," he said, "You weren't really my type when I first met you."
"I'm never anyone's type," she said. "You know why?"
"Why?"
"Because I'm not a stereotypical girl." She kissed him again, and he forgot to complain. He just let go. Her hands pulled up his shirt, and he let her.
"You do realize I have a roommate, though?" he asked her, as she threw it aside.
"So what? He's not going to join us, is he?"
"No..." his face took that pensive look again, and she laughed.
"That's what I find so cute about you,' she said, and kissed his cheek, traveling down to his neck.
"What?" he asked, closing his eyes. This felt too good to protest.
"When you think," she replied, looking up at him. "It makes me want you even more."
He picked her up and whisked her off to his bedroom. There was more than thinking going on in there.