Written for quite a while, but never bothered typing it. Finally got around to it. I have a weird tendency to write in pronouns instead of names, even though the intended characters are very clear in my mind from the beginning.
Anyways, I don't own the Teen Titans, but I try to write in it's universe anyways.
It wasn't that the girl didn't like the boy, because she did. Liking him wasn't the issue. It was the fact that she didn't know what he expected of her that kept her from saying yes, from letting him whisk her away. She didn't know just what kind of a girl he thought she was and that bugged her. She wanted to be sure he wasn't trying to fit her into one of those ready-made molds you could buy at the store, because she hated expectations. Pressure she could deal with, thrive on even. But not expectations. They were just so damn confining, and she always did hate small spaces.
She wasn't like most girls. She wasn't the type of girl to lie and say, "It'll be alright" if it wasn't, she'd tell him straight up that he was screwed. Nor would she attempt to assuage his fears that everyone was laughing behind his back, in fact she'd probably be the one to point it out, laughing all the while. Loudly. Mockingly. She wasn't the kind of girl who'd latch onto him just because they were together. She liked cuddling or holding hands just as much as the next girl, but she'd never initiate it. The same applied to kidding. Nor would she cheer him on if he was playing some extreme sport, because she would likely be playing it, too. She wouldn't litter his stereos with those chick singers most girls seemed to like, she'd get him accustomed to her power metal. She wouldn't act coy or flirty to get his attention, she'd just do without. And if he ever wanted to do something, he had to ask, because she sure as hell wouldn't. Oh and by the way, she'd pay for her own shit, thank you very much. She hated confessions of love, because she knew they were fake. And she'd rather not be his girlfriend, no offense intended. Not that she didn't want to be exclusive and all that, but it made it easier. There's no break-up, no staying out of obligation. At least that way, they both knew the other was there because they wanted to be, not because they felt like they had to.
This she hoped he knew, because goddamn if she wasn't already in over her head. She was halfway to saying yes and she didn't even know what he expected of her. She made it a point to clarify this the next time she saw him, promising herself that she wouldn't lecture, just inform. But it seemed like that's how it had come out and now there was nothing she could do to take it back and redo it. And oh God, dare she even look at his face to see his reaction? But she knew she had to and so she did.
The horrified look on his face almost made her walk away, but her pride kept her rooted. "What?" she forced an edge into her voice. His voice had an edge almost equal to hers, "Do you really think me that dense? I know that already Did you honestly believe I liked you because I thought you were like every other girl?" His voice turned to mocking, "Well maybe you are different than I thought, because I could've sworn you were smarter than that."
She honestly wasn't sure whether or not she should just take the statement for what it was, a back-handed compliment, or if she should deck him and she told him so. "Well," a nervous chuckle, "I'd totally just take the compliment if I were you." She flashed a smile, "Okay, thanks." A moment later, all he knew was that his face hurt like hell. "Just because I accept it doesn't mean I'm not going to beat your ass, anyways," she said with another of those disarming smiles. And he just smiled back, because he wouldn't have it any other way. He knew exactly what kind of girl she was, and he loved it.
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