Claire is chewing her nails and staring blankly at the computer screen. "I suck at romance. Mix, where're you?" she says in frustration.
"URG," her muse, the superb and awesome yummy Mikael, aka Mix, appears, mainly because he can't stand it when she uses words like where're because it's not a real word. Although MS Word says otherwise.
"Hehehe. Haaaai," she smiles at her irate muse.
"What do I get out of this?" He stands off to the side, not too close, because Claire has tricks up her sleeve to pull him into her writing without him realizing (like now).
"Perfect grammar?" Claire says sweetly.
"Don't kid yourself."
"Okay. How about a biscuit?" Claire says in a sing-song voice.
"Make that ten," Mikael says flatly.
"Isn't that a bit excessive?" Claire asks.
"Okay, fifteen, or no deal," Mikael says, slumping down into the couch beside her and planting his feet on the coffee table beside her computer.
I don't get why I can write this gibberish and not the actual story.
"Because I want biscuits," Mikael interjects Claire's thoughts.
"...Okay, whatever. I'll get you biscuits!"
"Fifteen."
"Yeah, I got that, Mix."
"Choc chip."
"Ugh, I'm gonna be sick," Claire says, her motivation for writing coupled with unhealthy sugar snacks starting to wear thin on her.
"And mallowtoffs," Mikael says, tilting his head back into the couch and folding his arms across his chest. Like he's got this in the bag already.
"Mallowtoffs are not biscuits," Claire points out.
"Are you calling the deal off?" Mikael lowers his head to look at her, surprised.
"Choc chip biscuits or no deal."
"...how'd you do that?" he asks, leaning forward suspiciously.
"Do what?"o_0
"Turn this conversation around! How'd you suddenly get control over the situation?"
Claire smiles cheekily. "I just stopped caring."
Mikael pouts.
"Choc chip biscuits or nothing. Take it or leave it."
"I'll take it." Mikael caves in.

A/N: SORRY!

~...~

Falling.
I was falling at lightning speed - or maybe I was flying? My head was spinning, my heart was floating high in my chest, and everything else felt like it had dropped away from me. The only thing that was real was him - the feel of his silky hair between my fingers, the contours of his body cradled against mine, the sparks his touch sent under my skin, like he was setting me on fire. It was absolute heaven. He changed the pressure of his lips on mine, slowing the deep, burning kiss into small, soft, sweet little kisses.

A knock on the door. "Are you two still in there? You'll be late for your movie." Aunt Babe's voice.
"I don't like that they keep that door closed," Uncle Dill muttered weakly.

I sighed against Dante's lips, and he smiled. He kissed me once more, and pulled away. I opened my eyes and blinked up at him, feeling like I'd just been dragged from a beautiful dream.

"Do we have to go?" I mumbled, nestling my head in the crook of his neck. He ran his fingers slowly up and down the length of my back, sending a shiver through me. He stopped, fingers lingering. I kissed his neck softly, making my way up toward his ear.

"Yeah," Dante said, and tightened his arms around me when I flicked my tongue across his skin. "Yeah, definitely time to go."

"Aww," I moaned when he disengaged himself from me and sat up on my bed.

He gave me a look. "You know we can't let things get out of control."

Control, control, control. You're starting to sound like your brother.

I shifted away from him and glanced around my small, modest room, feeling my mood drop at his words. He just had to remind me of the thing growing inside of me. It was like Vergil was still coming between us, even though I've been away from Metropolis for a good five months, and neither of us had ever mentioned Vergil or the psycho's spawn inside of me. Yet, Vergil was still haunting us.

Damn him to hell.

I looked over at Dante. He was pulling his boots on, his way of making a run for it. There'd been the one off occasion a few months ago, when he'd come over for a week, that things had gotten 'out of control'. He'd been wasted, having stumbled in from one or the other bar, completely disorientated about where he was or how he'd even gotten to my place. Wasted to the extent where, when he'd woken up the next morning, he was shocked that it had been me and not some stripper girl.

Ever since, he'd been cautious about going there again. To my complete and total disappointment.

"What?" he asked when he caught me staring.

"I want you, Dante."

"I can't do this right now," Dante groaned, and stumbled for the doorknob when I got off the bed. "Cora, c'mon."

"Why not?" I pleaded, restraining myself from leaning up against him.

"It's... don't look at me like that... I want to I just... I can't..."

"You're grappling," I said. "Just be straight with me. It's because of this, isn't it?" I jabbed a finger at my slightly swollen stomach.

"What?" Dante frowned at me, and shook his head angrily. "No. I don't want to complicate things."

"Oh, right," I said tightly, and gave him a little shove aside to fling open the door. "Because things could get more complicated, right? What a lame ass excuse."

Dante grabbed my arm and forced me to stop. "You've no idea just how complicated things already are."

"Whatever." I glared at him. "Are we going to the movies or what?"

Uncle Dill lent us his car because he was worried about me falling off Dante's bike. The drive to the cinemas was quiet. I didn't break the silence until I felt something stir inside my stomach. I glanced over at Dante, who looked like he was lost in his own thoughts.

"How's Eva and your baby brother doing?" I finally asked.

For a moment I thought he was ignoring me. Then he looked at me with half a smile. "Holding strong, all things considered."

Eva had gone into labour a week ago - a month early. From what I'd heard, it was a messy, traumatic experience, and that it had been touch and go for both her and the baby. They were both still in intensive care, which is why Dante had been calling home for updates every day for the past three days. It was unnerving that he was risking calling Vergil - the brain of the bunch, I'm sure it wouldn't take much for him to track us down now - but there'd been no stopping Dante.

"Good," I nodded, and pursed my lips to stare out the window again.

"So..."

"So?" I looked at him curiously.

"Uh... never mind. We'll talk about it later."

The movie was good - an action adventure with strong comedy themes. My head was swimming with the memory of kick-ass scenes and witty one liners when we walked out of the cinemas a couple of hours later. We bought Chinese takeaways for dinner and sat at the local ice rink to eat and laugh at the epic wipe-outs. Life had never been this normal before. Not with Dante around, that is.

No demons to fight off, no hawk-like parents to worry about, no annoying brother to crash our party. I could ignore the thing in my belly, and pretend that we were just like all the other young couples hanging around. We were in love, and happy, and carefree. We kissed, we cuddled, we threw our chopsticks at a small group of douche bags that made some obscene remark at me, and we ran, skidding and sliding, across the ice when they tried to set after us. We laughed our way through the shadowed park, got lost in the local wildlife reserve and, finally, ended up making out on a bench on a small hilltop overlooking the coloured lights of the neighbourhood.

They say the first kiss is the best, but I say they lie. Every kiss was better, deeper, more special than the previous. We eventually broke apart, both of us breathless and hot with desire. I didn't want to move away from him, but I did. My heart did backflips when he pulled me close to his side, and we stared out at the night.

"I don't want you to go away," I said, and looked at him hopefully. I knew, of course, that there was no way he was going to abandon his family for me. Hope was cruel like that.

"About that," Dante said, and wrung his hands together. "Why don't you come home with me?"

I blinked and stared at him, wide-eyed. The question hung between us like a heavy anvil about to drop. I searched his face, for any clue about where he could be coming from. He knew why I couldn't. There were a thousand reasons why I couldn't.

"Why do I get the feeling that's a loaded question?" I asked hesitantly.

"We can work things out better back home," Dante countered.

"Ah...no, I don't think so," I said, frowning hard. I felt my gut churn and something in me harden. "Why the hell would you even consider it?"

"It takes a lot out of me to come here and leave my family behind, Cora."

"I know."

"They need me, especially now with my mom..."

"I know that," I said irritably. "I never asked you to come."

"But you want me to?"

"Of course I do, but that's your choice."

"I don't know how long I can keep doing this for," he said pleadingly. "Would you hold it against me if... I stopped coming around?"

"You mean if you called it quits," I said, and held up my hand when he started to protest. "I wouldn't hold it against you. No." I shrugged and looked away from him. "At least we gave it a try."

"You know," Dante heaved a sigh. "It takes a lot more out of me every time I leave you behind."

"I can't come back with you, Dante," I snapped, angry. "I've barely just gotten my life back on track here, and besides, your parents don't want me around."

"We both know that's not the real reason," Dante said quietly.

We exchanged a look, and I forced myself to shift away from him. "Maybe the sooner you go, the easier it'll be."

Dante said nothing. He stood up and straightened out his coat. He looked down at me as I crossed my legs on the bench, and shook his head. "You're something, you know that, babe?"

"Please go."

"Alright," Dante said, and then I was alone on the hilltop.

...wtf Mikael!?