Having a boyfriend could be one of the world's most enjoyable things, that was true, but it could also be the single-most frustrating thing on the planet. Having a boyfriend that other people usually described, and quite accurately so, as an unstoppable, reckless monster was even more frustrating, especially since he wasn't all that prone to listening to you. Sure, you knew Gaou cared about you – but listen to you when you asked him not to do something? No sir, no way, no how. It was always just 'that's impossible' and that'd be the end of that, thank you very much.

It was actually this particular trait of his that you were ranting about at this very moment to him, voice raised so loud you wouldn't be surprised if everyone within twenty miles heard you.

"Oh my god! You are just so fricking infuriating! I swear, there are times I just really want to kill you!" you were shouting at him. Him though, he was just grinning broadly, quite happy just to watch you rant and rave. To him, you were never sexier than when you were all hot and bothered about something, not that you knew that fact. He wasn't planning on letting you in on that little secret either. He figured if you knew, you might go get some anger management classes or something just to spite him.

"So why don't you?" he chuckled, raising an eyebrow in a playful taunt. Both of you knew that, from plenty of previous experience, you sure as hell had no problems in hitting him, not that he minded of course. You weren't all that strong and more than once, he'd had fun pointing out that your slaps and punches felt like little more than mosquito bites.

"Because my hands won't fit around your big-ass neck, that's why!" you retorted angrily, glaring at him and squeezing aforementioned hands into tight fists as he just chuckled darkly and walked towards you.

"Yeah, you're right, they won't," he agreed, grabbing your knees and hoisting you up until you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist. "But I know what they would fit around."

You blinked at his insinuation and pouted angrily, though you already knew you'd give in at some point.

"I'd still rather take my chances of them doing some damage around your neck, thanks."