3. Confrontation

"Hey, Stocking!" Her blonde head turned lazily towards the table, where her sister was, when she noticed another other head of orange hair. Her eyes widened, then she grinned. "And Brief! Who let you inside?"

She wasn't angered by his presence; she seemed sadistically delighted, as if he might offer them some sort of improv-show in the next hour. As she rounded her table, her eyes fell on the flowers and jalapeno snacks. Panty snatched for the bag, ripping it open and shoveling the food in, testing the taste.

"Eh, not too bad," she said, mouth full. "Good choice, B-" After turning to stare at him, she choked a little on her chips, spiking the bag to the ground in her surprise. Panty did not like surprises. "What the hell!?"

Brief hunched a little, as if in defense. She didn't like it, did she? Was it the hair? The clothes? He hadn't spoken to her yet, but his voice wasn't so great either. She hated him. Oh, god, she hated him. Stocking just sipped at her cocoa, enjoying the display. Her sister was no fun to argue with, but quite fun to watch when she argued with someone else.

Panty snatched a handful of his hair, yanking at it. "What did you do?! Is this some kind of plea for attention?!" She caught eye of his clothes, eyes widening. "And where did you get clothes like these? Fucking thrift store!? I didn't know you owned anything besides that damn jumpsuit!"

He grew smaller by the minute, sinking internally as he slumped in his seat. He wanted to disappear. She hated it. Panty hated it. Last time she saw his face, she jumped his bones-…why did she have-? Why did-?

"Why do you have to be such a bitch!?"

Then, silence again.

It was not supposed to come out of his mouth. And it was not supposed to be said in his brand new baritone, still fluxing on every word. Too late now, dammit. Brief slammed his hands onto the table, shaking the mugs and their contents.

"I m-mean…y-you know…" He paused, taking a second to collect himself. "I mean, I love you, Panty.."

After his outburst, both sisters were in shock, staring at him. When his front gave way to sensitivity, Panty was the first to recover and retaliate, like always. He felt her hand slam across his face before he heard it. It knocked him back, a little.

"Fucking dick!" She was surprised, that was all. People called her a bitch all the time. This was Brief's first time, though. It was somehow-…unwelcome. "All men love me! ALL MEN!"

Brief stood up, his chair tumbling backwards and clattering to the ground. Panty stumbled back from him, because his height took her off guard. He was so tall-… his eyes were so bright…His body-… Blue eyes skirted along his waistline and pelvic region.

"No, Panty, they don't," he growled. She was so blind. He had cut the hair that hung in front of his eyes, but his vision had never been cloudy in the first place. "You're beautiful, and you're easy." He turned to look at her, green eyes smoldering. "They just w-want to get-…get-…"

He faltered again, and Panty was able to collect herself. "Get in my pants?" She finished it for him. Brief let out a puff of air, hanging his head. Stocking started collecting the mugs before someone ended up breaking them. "Do you want anything different!?"

"YES!" He shook with the force of yelling it. "YES, Panty. Yes." He got quieter the more he said it, as though he was winding down from a great height. Impulsively, he snatched her hands, eliciting an incensed widening of her eyes. Blue orbs—eyes that had only watched him in disdain and vague amusement (and only once in lust) were now very angry with him.

She started jerking, growling like a feral cat. "Let go of me!"

But he wouldn't. He didn't want to. There had to be some way, any way, to make her understand. One of her knees shot up towards his groin area, but he had expected that much, and managed to dodge. Panty screamed in frustration, not fear. Though his hands were so much bigger. His legs so much longer. Body so much taller. Her blue eyes spit at him, but watched him all the same. Curious, though she would never let him think so.

"It's Stocking who likes this bondage shit, you bastard!" Panty tried to kick at him again, managing to crack him quite a few times in his shins. Brief grit his teeth and danced around a little, but still wouldn't let go of her. "I'm not in the mood, so fuck off!"

Stocking had considered stepping in to aid her sister, but the bondage comment squashed the impulse. She had the mugs in the sink, running warm water through them, listening to them shout behind her. The conflict in the air was nothing new to any of them, so no one seemed eager to diffuse it. Better to let the heaviness hang there and simmer—better to let it hover.

"It's not f-fair, you know," he said quietly, wrestling with her on the ground. They had their legs tangled together, each fighting to pin the other down. Both wanted to be on top. For the first time in his life, Brief won. He slammed Panty against the tile, hands holding her wrists. His eyes were green liquid, melting over his lower lids. "It's not fair for you to treat me this way!"

Panty kicked and kicked, and realized it was too late for her to kill the bastard, since she couldn't get her underwear off without a spare hand. She swore mentally at her useless sister, who wouldn't have helped her if she was dying, most likely. Well, scratch that. Maybe she would have helped, but right now she was probably enjoying herself too much to soar in to aid.

"Treat you what way, idiot?" She managed to knee him square in the groin. Due to its impressive size, it was already hard to miss, and it would only get bigger with puberty. So, needless to say, it was an effective deterrent vice-grip on her arms. He cupped his package, rolling over her slowly, eyes huge. Mouth open in a silent scream. Panty smashed a foot on his cheek, holding him down. "Just what do I do to you that's so bad?!"

He couldn't answer her, debilitated, in pain once again. Always in pain. She hit him everywhere, with all she had, all the time. Her fists, her words, her body, her teasing affection-… A young man could only take so much disappointment. Brief had never thought badly of her—had worshipped her—but what was he to do when, after all this time, she couldn't spare him more than one glance and a snide comment? When he didn't answer, Panty reached down and snatched him by the hair, dragging him towards the door.

"That's what I thought," she growled under her breath. Stocking watched from the counter, rubbing a fuzzy towel along the edge of a damp cup. Panty was still ruffled from all that he had said to her. "Fucking useless piece of shit-…"

Brief found himself suddenly cold. Outside again. He sat up with his hands still cupping his package, the back of his pants starting to soak as they pressed into the cold, wet concrete. His green eyes were bright with rage, despair… longing, and hopelessness. Maybe this was how it ended with her. This was the answer…

They weren't meant to be.

ps. Okay, friends! THAT TOOK FOREVER TO UPDATE OMGH xDDD. I might add onto this, but for the moment, it's going to be barren for a while. Let me get some more inspiration on it. I definitely don't want to end it as crappily as I did just now x'D