Hello, again, my lovelies!


Undisclosed Desires

Chapter 12

-HPOV-

"You know, Finn, I've always had this tendency to lean towards exhibitionism, as in, ah, I don't know – I've always been the overreactive type, the one to analyze and stress out and probably wasting a huge amount of time spending trying to overcome my introvertism by falling in love with outsiders and exhibition and loving the people that could only hurt me. And do you know what else? There's, there's like – there's something really wrong with me. It's like I have this switch that turns off if there are nice, loving guys involved. I only crave for the desperate, wild and rough passion of men. And, and I liked getting hurt. I could create by that. I could develop myself around pain and hurt and ah, I've always wanted to make changes, change and live loudly. My life was so boring, so... normal. I don't know. At some point, I just wanted it all to end. I felt numb. Sometimes I would spend hours just staring at a fucking wall. I could feel myself shutting down, going blank. I was numb and expressionless and I was satisfied that people saw me like that.

I would have been glad if I felt something. Anger. I would have been glad if my anger choked me, knocking the lungs out of my chest, stabbing my heart with each thump.

I would have squeezed my eyes shut to try and stop all that hurt, even though it would have still been there.

But that didn't happen.

Because I was numb."

"Why were you numb?" he breathed in my ear. We were embraced in the dead of night, I guess it was our favourite time of rambling, ranting, confessing. Night offered protection and a silent vow which assured that our secrets wouldn't be shared.

"I don't know. Probably it was all too much for me. Hatred…The hatred that people held. It always got too much for me. God, I sound like a kid." I laughed slowly, but he didn't join me.

"You sound frail." he corrected me. He pushed the lock of my hair that was blocking his view of my exposed cheek.

"You are frail." he murmured.

"I'm weak."

"No. Just frail."

"Does it make any difference?"

"Of course, silly. Frail is not the same as weak."

I shrugged.

"Tease me.", Finn said, with a bitter sparkle in his eyes. I shyly blushed. That statement only was a tease itself, addressed to me. I sighed, knowing that probably my own brand of mean Finn was up next.

"I don't think you're completely incompetent of doing at least that. At least when you stop blushing." he laughed.

Sometimes I really hated him, I thought as I pulled away from him.

I hated his sweetness, his humour, his laughter which made me shriek, his joyful and oh-so-beautiful eyes, that hot way that he pulled back his hair. I hated his idiotic giggle and his pure mean teases. I hated how he was using his good looks to get anything that he wanted and I hated how he made me hate him but fall in love with him all over again.

I hated him so much that my heart beat for him.

"Oh, c'mon.", he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, but I tried to pull away and resist.

"Ow, c'mon.", Finn brought me closer and started kissing me.

"You're such a jerk." I simply said.

"I know. But I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm sure."

I paused.

"You're a bitch." I concluded.

This time, he laughed and rolled over his torso, letting me be. I wrapped the blanket around my bare frame. After awhile, it started slipping down my body and I frowned, but then realized that he was pulling at it.

"Stop it, Finnick."

"Oh, no. My full name. Shit."

I rolled my eyes and turned my back away from him. "It's funny," he started, and all I could think of was 'shit'. "You always call me by my full name when you're mad at me or when we - "

He continued by breathing the rest in my ear. "Fuck."

"So, that means-", his hands slipped under the smooth blanket, "that when you're mad at me, you're also turned on."

He smirked victoriously and I wanted to shoot myself. Or him. Nah, him.

"I'm going to cut off your balls one day." I warned.

His laugh filled the whole room.

God, how in Earth could he laugh like that? It was so… so good. Hot. Why was everything at him so beautiful? I remembered a TV show where the presenter had said, on Finn's father: "Dangerous and lethal, but oh so beautiful."

I shivered and his laugh finally died down.

"You know what, Haley?"

I hesitated. "What-"

"I'm really getting annoyed with your attitude. I won't be touching you again 'till you ask me nicely."

"Tempting.", I commented. "And what's the side effect of making a deal with the devil?"

He just smirked and pulled away. "You tell me, She-Devil. I think the last time I called you this I got a black eye – "

He stopped when my pillow flew over his shoulder.

"Well, that was a bad throw, wasn't it?" he grinned.

I pouted and crossed my arms unwillingly. "What are we watching?", Finn asked, spreading himself on the couch. "Besides your boobs, obviously."

Blushing, I quickly covered myself with the blanket and brought my knees to my chest.

"It feels nice on bare skin." I murmured, wrapping myself tighter. I saw on the corner of my eye his soft, caring smile which he kept just for me, when I was being "silly" or "frail".

I hid my blush and my smile in his pillow, breathing in his salty smell. It felt lonely in that big bed, but I wasn't going to step on my shallow pride and call him.

Finn was switching channels fast and dizzily. "God, Finn. Just put one of that shitty horror movies Sam rented and left here."

"Mhm. Rented.", he commented.

"Ok, stole." I agreed.

"You bring popcorn and chips. And beer."

I rose too and threw in his white shirt. I expected him to kiss me or wrap his arms around me or pull at my hair or spank my ass as I walked past him, but he didn't.

I sighed. I did like it, even though I was never going to admit it. It was pretty much a sign or his affection, his playfulness and despite my protests or laughs or devy eyes, I was enjoying his warmth.

I came back with chips, junk food, his beer and coke. I let them on the floor, then climbed in bed. I threw him the packet of cigarettes that I had found on the armchair.

"Oh, thanks, sweetheart."

He took out his lighter and lit himself up a cigarette, resting his head on the pillow I had thrown. I wanted to go to him and run my hand through his messy but welcoming hair and lay my head on his bare chest that allowed me to admire his relaxed muscles from my position.

"What are we watching?" I asked.

"House of Wax.", he said in his usual mocking tone.

"That shit with Paris Hilton?"

He laughed and nodded. I arranged myself in my blanket and started eating chips.

"Do you want to watch Silent Hill better? We have it, too."

"Nah, you've spoiled me too much lately, now I can't watch horror or any type of slash movies without wanting someone to hold me."

"And what do you take me for, scarecrow?"

"You said you wouldn't touch me." I grinned.

"Unless you ask me to."

I shrugged.

I sighed as the movie played on. Big, fat, commercial cliché. Now, The Last Tango in Paris, Pulp Fiction, The Dreamers, Zero Dark Thirty, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Dead Poets Society, A beautiful Mind, Flipped, Pulp Fiction – those are some good movies.

"Want some?" Finn asked, handing me his beer. I was about to shake my head but I took it, thinking he would have to come at me to get it back. I sipped slowly and let the can on the little table that was next to bed.

I heard him chuckle and realized that he was onto my plan.

"Want a smoke?" he was smirking. I swallowed and nodded. He rose and put the cigarette in my hand, his piercing eyes never leaving mine.

I sighed and gave it back to him. I guess I didn't need it, huh?

I was just…silly little Haley Mellark, the girl with a slightly strict mother and a polished father, the daughter of the 'Star Crossed Lovers', whose annoying younger brother lit up the atmosphere, while she stayed in a corner, wearing a pretty dress and smiling uncertainly, wishing, hoping, craving even, to pass unnoticed. The girl who blushed and smiled at everything and then cried at anything when no one was looking.

Hopeless.


-FPOV-

I plucked the cigarette in my mouth and brushed her chin briefly. I regarded with pleasure the blush that rose to her cheeks.

I used to have a goal of mine of cracking her chaste façade. I didn't know if it was better afterwards I passed through her resistance, but it sure felt good to know that she was mine and I was her first in everything, mine 'til the last bit of her, even her breaths were mine.

I rested my cheek next to hers, feeling the desperate need of seeing and having her naked, and her body, and her thought.


Heh, sometimes I think that Leonard Cohen is my life. xx~snuff.