A/N: Uh, yeah. Here's your stories for the next four days. Sorry, I couldn't resist. :P

Hey.

I want to sing a song.

ALL AROUND THE MULBERRY BUSH

THE BLACK WIDOW CHASED THE WHITE ONE

THERE WAS A RACIST UNDERTONE THERE

I LIED, THE END

Did you like it? It took me about three weeks to write each line.

POUR ME OUT.

My eyes fly open and my breath hitches when I see who's laying next to me.

I swear to God that it was a dream. He was not in my bed. He wasn't.

Wake up in the morning, it's not so bad.

I pull down my sleeve, revealing numerous red cuts and scratches, and I pinch myself. Wake up, Tori. Damn it, wake up! I pinch my arm until it draws blood. Great, not only is this actually happening, I'm now squirting blood all over him. Peaches and cream. Really.

I sit up and try to contain the blood on my wrist when he stirs. I instantaneously(by instinct, really) pull up my sleeve.

I can taste you on my lips, and it makes me sad.

"Hey, Tori." He freezes.

"Tori?" He seems to realise what just happened too, and his facial expression mirrors how I'm feeling quite well.

"Hey, André." I begin quietly. "Did that really happen?" André nods, and I can see he's freaking out a lot. Then again, so am I. I see him wringing his hands together and he sits up, revealing.. well, more than I wanted to see.

"André. Go put on some pants." I command, and he blushes. Aw, cute. Wait, what? I turn away as he gets up, because I've already seen one half- don't need to see the other. I put on my own pyjama pants because even if I'm wearing boyshorts, you can never have enough cover, hah.

"Done." I hear him gasp and I giggle, turning around to see he's having trouble pulling up his pants. At least he was wearing boxers. I reach forward to dust some lint off his shirt. His eyes wander down and I see he's staring at a red spot on my sleeve.

"Tori, you got some blood on your arm." He grabs it and I protest as vehemently as I can, but he takes me to the bathroom and lowers my sleeve to reveal... some very deep cuts. His eyes widen and he's staring at my arm with this doe-eyed look on his face. I bite my lip and retract my arm, or try to, because he grabs it and shakes his head at me.

"Tori. Where else?" I shake my head with tears in my eyes, pulling the blue sleeve back up to cover my wrist.

"André." I state quietly.

"Tell me, Tori!" I flinch at his straightforwardness, but I pull down my pyjama pants(no, you perverts.) to reveal a multitude of fresher, redder cuts on my thighs. Probably two days old at the most. André runs his hand along the inside of my thigh and I can feel the bumps of the scar tissue as his hand cruises over them, and I shiver from the contact.

"Tori.." He says so quietly I'm not even sure if I actually heard it.

"I can't do this." He says, pushing past me.

"André.. Wait!" I chase after him, but he slams my room door behind him.

There's a part of me that just wants you back.

Shit.

I sit down on my bed and wonder what's going to happen next. Who's he going to tell? Does he even care? Or is he just creeped out? I sigh and curl up on my bed, humming 'I'm a little teapot' to myself.

You're the one thing I want, that I never did have.

And even though he's been gone maybe two minutes, I can't help but think of how much I miss André.

A/N: Can you tell how much I don't care anymore? XD Like, seriously.. that's like 600 words.

ME NO CURR. NO1CURR, ACTUALLY.

Now.. Go to FlorMorada's page on FF. Open her story Cat Valentine: My Life.

And then.. review.

You don't even have to read it.

(but it helps if you do.)