Disclaimer: Not mine.

This one's tiny. I worked on this at the same exact time as 'Pondering'. Like, literally typed some on each, back and forth. Um, yeah. xD I was bored. lmao. This is the skipping school scene from Better Off Alone Part 1, but twisted a little differently.

+ Spinning +

"Prove it," he said, sending her a defiant look. "Scream." She was confused, but he continued, "At the top of your lungs." 'Top' was emphasized when he looked up dramatically, smirk seemingly stuck to his face. She sat there unmoving, unsure what to even do. They were in a public place and he wanted her to scream at random, in front of all these people...

You don't care what people think, remember?

She crossed her arms and turned away from him and let out a tiny little yell that Eli barely heard. He scoffed, disappointed. "That's the best you can do?" he asked, challenging. His eyes roamed her body- her curves were enticing- then moved back up to stare at her pretty face for a moment before he smirked and looked ahead. He was getting to her... good.

With new determination she stood up, looked back at him with a smug look and then literally screamed at the top of her lungs. Eli's eyes widened for a split-second before he gained his normal expression and sat unfazed for another moment. She finished with a girly stamp to the ground and smiled sweetly back at him. "Okay," she said, feeling better. "Your turn."

He thought for a moment- I did just make her embarrass herself- and then reassessed his situation. With a grin he stood up slowly and said, "Yeah... not my style."

Her smile dropped and she looked confused, disappointed even. "What?"

"It's not my style-"

Her smile was back, a mischievous one, and she advanced at him, pointing her finger. "You have to do it!" she exclaimed, cheeks flushing at the close proximity they were gaining as he neared the telephone pole.

"Like I said-" he was smiling too, and he found this was way more fun than anything he'd ever done- "It's not my style."

"But you have to..." the closer she got, the more red her face became. Instinctively he grasped her wrists and pulled her closer. She struggled a little, but not enough for him to actually let go, and her smile fell. Her eyes gazed at his in wonder and he pulled her so that their chests were touching. "I have to-"

Her words were stolen and replaced by warm, demanding lips.

Clare gasped instinctively and then something warm and slick was in her mouth, touching her tongue and grazing her teeth. She felt her knees weaken and she was losing balance but the grip that had previously been on her wrists was now wrapped securely around her waist- when did that happen?- and she was completely unable to fall, even if she wanted to.

Her eyes shut tight as she felt herself spinning- like in a carnival ride- and her back hit something solid. She didn't even have time to wonder what had happened because fingers threaded through her hair and she slipped into a state of semi-catatonia. She couldn't move, could barely breathe, because this mysterious boy- one of whom she'd met only a few days ago- was kissing her so thoroughly and ripping every last comprehendable thought from her head. She was like a puddle of goo, pliable to only the hands of Eli Goldsworthy. And she couldn't find a reason to complain.

Too soon, he pulled away and eyed his handiwork; a flushed and panting Clare Edwards, barely able to stand on her own two feet. He smirked and placed a kiss to her cheek, her other cheek, and then her forehead. Her eyes opened and met his. They were quiet; they didn't need to say anything because all was said in that kiss.

Clare was turning more red by the second and, in order to save herself more embarrassment, she sidestepped away from Eli and made her way back to the bench. Before she sat she turned to face him for a moment and found him leaning back against the telephone pole like that hadn't even happened. His smirk had dissolved into a small smile and, with a tiny smile of her own, she sat down, keeping her eyes downcast. She noticed from the corner of her eye that his emerald orbs were burning through her soul and the only thought she could process was, What have I gotten myself into?

Review. I'm not fond of this one. FTW.