I give him no time to think or react as I close in and smack the phone away from his hands then follow through with an extremely hard, maybe too hard, push into the lockers. I hear his small compact frame smash into the metal as I keep walking and turn to glance at him, sneering at the look on his face and catching the torrent of emotion as it swirls within his eyes. Tearing my eyes away from him I turn and head for the locker rooms, already I am coming up with other ways to elicit that beautiful expression out of him, to draw out the Kurt I want.

My pulse quickens when I realize he's following me, I pick up the pace and beat him to the locker room, hoping perhaps he will acknowledge the fact that this place is off limits to him, that he doesn't belong here. The door swings open behind me and I inwardly curse as he yells at me.

"I am talking to you!" His voice is shrill and angry but not unstable or wavering. He isn't scared.

I pull out a pair of shoes from my locker and answer: "Girl's locker room is next door."

And he refuses to back down. As he approaches demanding to know what my problem is I turn to face him. He is angry, his face contorted into an angry yet hopeless scowl, it's as if he knows he will loose. The words that are next exchange are lost on my mind almost as quickly as they escape my lips. I raise a fist and threaten him as he continues to push me-he tells me to punch him, says it won't make a difference, I can't beat the gay out of him. He's right but then again so wrong. I'm bluffing, even if I wanted to I couldn't punch him, I would only break him further than I've already broken him and it's too obvious how close he is to shattering right here, right now, in front of me.

I give him one last warning, a desperate yell that is intended to scare him away but Kurt doesn't leave, instead he points a finger at me and starts telling me things I already know, things he assumes will hurt me and by now I've had enough. He's so close and within my reach, and suddenly I notice we are totally and utterly alone. He's getting to his point and his voice raises in a cacophony of sound that I hastily mute as I lunge forward and cup his face, holding him there while I silence him with my lips.

He's so small compared to me and I have to visibly bend to claim his mouth, our lips meshing as I hungrily eat at him, trying to incorporate all the frustration I myself have into the kiss that ends too soon. I'm forced to pull away, needing to see his face, needing to know I didn't just go out of line. Ignoring the stricken expression on his face I go back for more, desperately trying to portray that I want this, us, him and that I've always secretly wanted this. His hands are smaller than mine, as is his build, but he still manages to push me away and flinch back.

I stare at him, my shocked expression contrasting with his doe eyed fear. I want to step forward and apologize but the sheer horror on Kurt's face prevents me from doing so. He doesn't just look scared, he look's as if I've raped him. Furious and hurt I avert my gaze and punch the lockers beside me, snarling angrily as I send him a scathing glance. He stays put, fingers to his lips, blue eyes watering as I make a quick escape. I wonder if he notices that I too am close to tears.

Sniffling loudly I curse myself for being such a pussy, for making that mistake, for showing Kurt what I really am. The power has shifted now and I know if I don't play my cards right I will undoubtedly loose this little game I've started with him.