Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, shape, or form, own the Princess Diaries. Meg Cabot does. I am but a lowly writer who stuffs up every attempt to write a fic.

A/N Oh, and by the way, that last comment has been pointed out by my cuz already... I have no idea why I'm even writing this, since I can't post it for awhile because my internet explorer's stuffed up... but anyway. (CrazyNut2002, I got hold of All American girl!!! I love Singapore, except I can't go on the internet.... you're right, it's really good, cos I read it in half a day.)

Michael Moscovitz. Darn, so that's why he logged off so quickly. I ran around frantically, trying to find a way out... but Lars stayed where he was. I suppose that wasn't much of a surprise, since if he'd been running crazily around, then he wouldn't be too useful in saving me from whatever evil person my dad thinks will try to kidnap me. But still...!

Lars was acting strangely. He stood in the centre, with me running wildly about, yet his arms were folded neatly across hi chest, and he was smiling slightly. I snapped, Whatever's so funny? Lars only responded by breaking out into huge, rolling chuckles. I couldn't understand it. I mean, yeah, I was acting like an idiot, but he needn't make it so plain. Together, we could have pretended that I was doing something constructive.

I threw a glance at the window. Michael Moscovitz was looking right at me, an inquiring eyebrow raised at my ridiculous response to his presense. I sighed, and opened the door...

... to realise that Lars was walking out of the room and into another. I called out. Whatever was he thinking, leaving me alone! But Lars only turned to face me, and removed his shades. I trust you two will act responsibly, mature, honestly, and not deny any truths. With that, he winked, replaced his shades, and went into the other room. Turning my attention to Michael, I realised that he was looking at me expectantly. Huh? Oh! Come in, Michael. He stepped through the door. Hi, Mia.

We both stood around there, staring at each other, and (me) blushing furiously. Michael decided that the silence was too much, because he said, Mia, what you wrote just now... I have no idea why, byut I stated babbling. Oh, Michael. I am so sorry... I won't do it again, I promise! But Michael looked surprised. Why not? Didn't you mean what you wrote?... because I thought you did. Now what was he getting at? Of course I meant it, but if I offended you in any way... I trailed off, because I didn't know how to continue.

But Michael grabbed me fiercely. Offended? OFFENDED?! He laughed, and all the fierceness that had shone in him died away. he whispered tenderly, as though my name was something delicate and fragile. I loved the way he tasted my name. I answered, my voice barely audible. How could you think you had offended me? I have waited years for you to admit your feelings to me. I have waited while Josh has long gone. I stared in wonder at when he was implying... surely he loved me?

Michael, I... I... Tell me... do you really think of me as- he blushed. as your dreamboy? The one who haunts your dreams, supports you in battling your fears...? I stared even more... how did he know? I opened my mouth to tell him that yes, he was the angel of my dreams, but he spoke before I could get a single word out. No, Mia. Not like that. What? Hang on a sec. Did he or did he not love me? Don't tell me with mere words, they'll never be sufficient for me. What was he talking about?

But then... how else can I express my answer? I asked, confused. He was so close... I was getting dizzy. Yet he smelled so good, so clean, and he looked... well, hot. Like this, Mia, like this. Michael bent down and gently brushed his lips against mine. I was already speechless before, but now.. all thoughts had flown from my mind as I responded to his kiss. How was it possible for such a delicate, tender sensation to exist? The kiss intensified, and we moved right into frenching. I loved every minute of it, loved his warm form supporting mine.

I loved what was going on inside my mouth, but that I shalln't describe. For I am truly a selfish person, and the delight and pleasure I found in his kiss... I am not willing to share. Finally we broke apart, panting slightly. Michael... I love you.



Huh?

I was hoping I could get it out before you... I'll have to settle for second, then. Mia, I love you too. We grinned foolishly at each other. And commenced a second round of kissing.

It was only much later that I was saying goodbye to Michael, Lars by my side, when Grandmere appeared. So, Amelia, she said, from that ridiculous expression on your face, I take it you've finally confessed, and he responded in a positive manner.

Wondering how she could've known, I fumbled for an appropriate response, but found none, and Grandmere continued her little speech. That's good, Amelia, because now we can commence our Princess Lessons. What? But, Grandmere, I protested, we haven't stopped Princess Lessons. Grandmere checked her Bvlgari watch. We have missed one princess lesson, so far. It was postponed because I decided not to waste our time if you couldn't concentrate. Didn't you realise that after last lesson, that I didn't tell you when to meet me for the next lesson?

Grandmere paused to think. Hmm... despite my busy schedule, I think I can conduct a lesson right now... Amelia, what is the appropriate response to an unwanted suitor?

I hate princess lessons.

No, hated. Because now everything seems okay. Give me something I can't handle. Because now it seems like Michael has given me strength. And while we're together, I can face anything. Even torture lessons.

Even Grandmere.

Or not.

A/N So that's it. Hoped you all enjoyed it, and thank you all for stopping to read it, and taking the time tor review... now I can quit wasting my time typing nonsense, and try to act like a normal teenager, instead of reading romance novels.... for which I am a sucker. Besides, now I can actually pay attention to what I am writing in my other fic, instead of having to reread everything that I've written over and over again. And when that's done, I can say bye-bye to writing fanfiction... that is, until another random thought/notion pops into my brain and I st out to -once again- ruin everyone's character. Bye! -- An Onymous.