Author: Julie

Disclaimer: No.

Thoughts: Yes, it's rushed. Deal with it, bitches.

"She's feeling worthless, used again but nothing's different." – Something Corporate "I Want to Save You"

She was wearing cute underwear. And he knew it.

"Hey," he breathed on her neck, sneaking up on her, squeezing her hip. Her stomach clenched and she stiffened. She turned her head to the side, still with her back to him, not meaning to give him access to kiss her temple. She jumped when he did, and turned around to face him, backing up.

"What do you want?" She asked, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Well, well, well..." He said, smirking, and leaning forward to whisper. "After that little show you gave me a couple minutes ago," he glanced upstairs and her breath hitched "I'm surprised you're still being so modest."

"I'm not that much of a slut." She said bitterly. "I did stop it before it got to far." And she had: he'd obviously been going for sex, and she had been so caught up in it that she had almost forgotten to stop. But then she felt the bass line coming through the floor and the alcohol brewing in her system and the party they were at, and she knew that she wasn't going to deal with having to explain what they were doing in a parents' bedroom if one of the some 200 people came upstairs and found them, well...

"Yeah, maybe. But you wanted it." He wasn't whispering anymore. "You wanted it bad. You know you did."

"You're such a fucking dick." She told him, starting to walk away and looking at him like he was everything she knew he was, everything he didn't come off as.

He grabbed her arm angrily and turned her around, pinning her to a wall, putting an arm on either side of her. No one mulling around the party seemed to notice, and the music was too loud for anyone else to hear what they were spitting at each other. He smirked. "What was that? I'm a dick? You are fucking slut."

"Oh yeah?" She laughed humorlessly, "Oh really? I'm a slut? How many girls have you fucked in the last month, huh? Five? Six? I'm a slut?"

He leaned in, his lips millimeters away from her neck, brushing it when he smirked and spoke. "That depends. Do you count?" He laughed as she flinched. "I guess not. You know, there's a reason they all keep coming back. It's a real shame you couldn't have enjoyed it all."

She tried to push him away, but it did no use. He was easily forty pounds bigger than her. Track, soccer, baseball. She used to think it was sexy, but now it was just making her claustrophobic.

He laughed, "You just can't get away from me can you?"

She inhaled sharply. "Get off of me."

"That's not what you were saying earlier." Smirk.

"Get. Off. Of. Me." Her jaw was clenched, her fingers pulsing. She was 2 more comebacks away from slapping him.

"You're wasting too much energy on talking. Your mouth can do much sexier things, you know."

And so she slapped him. That was worth two at least. His hand shot up to his cheek in surprise, giving her access to leave.

"Don't ever talk to me again." She shook her head. "I don't even want to look at you." She pushed past him, but not before he called one more thing to her.

"Oh yeah? I didn't disgust you when you were moaning my name, did I?"

"Fuck you, Tristan." She gave him a look of disgust again. "Fuck you."

"Sorry." He said smirking again. "You already had your chance, babe."

"And I didn't take it."

"You'll be sorry, Louise. I promise." He winked at her.

She shook her head and turned her back to him. "Pathetic."

And with that she walked out the door.