Okay, so I lied. I waited for only two reviews. I couldn't hold in my excitement over this chapter any longer! NOW! The three review thing starts. So yeah. I'm serious. I will wait until I get three reviews. Which means: REVIEW PEOPLE!

Chapter 14. Oh my! I'm so excited! I'm getting a little closer to the main climax. Haha, yes, I'm only about halfway through. I know the first half has been long, but I needed the space to develop the relationship between Mimi and Matt, and I needed a few lengthy events to happen in order to increase their love for each other.

Amour! 3

Haha.

And oh my goodness, Nesha, your comment was hilarious! It made me laugh so much. My boyfriend was like, "Why the fuck are you laughing?" And I just couldn't stop. It made me so happy! Haha.

Anyways, like my previous chapter, I will not post Chapter 15 until I get at least 3 reviews. And asking for three reviews is not much; trust me. I bet that there are people who won't update until they get, like, ten reviews per chapter. Conceited people.

By the way, if I don't update for a while even though I've gotten three reviews, it will most likely be because of schoolwork. So far, I've been lucky and haven't gotten too much homework this semester. Yet.

Anyways, here's Chapter 14!!

WARNING: This chapter contains heavy language, mainly the use of profanities. Those who are offended by profane language, please stop now.
If you don't like the use of the profanities, don't even think about posting up that remark in a comment; you were warned, and you read the chapter even though you didn't like cursing. Deal with it. It's your fault.

Chapter 14

Angry Confessions

Standing still, eyes widened in horror, she stayed rooted to the spot, gaping in awe at the man lying prone on the ground, a bruise forming around his left eye. A variety of thoughts formed in her mind, flashing through, one replacing the next, continuously giving her different images of the consequences of her actions. Would he hate her? Was he going to hit her back when he woke up? Or would he just laugh and shrug it off?

She knew, deep down, that he was going to be severely pissed. The bruise blossoming around his eyes was a putrid purple-black colour, standing out starkly against his skin.

Guilt ate at her, gnawing at her marrow, chewing away at her heart as she stood there, shaking from the angry force it took her to perform the action, and fear of what may come because of it.

"Oh Kami. What have I done?"

She felt as though she had just murdered someone, nausea rising slowly in her throat, causing her to choke on it, her heart rate increasing rapidly, breath coming out in gasps as she stood there, unable to move, eyes focused on Matt, her … victim.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! I'm so screwed. He's going to kill me!"

Her voice rose in a high-pitched squeal of fear, hands waving around her face as it flushed a dark scarlet. Suddenly, what had once been on pause was suddenly lurched to fast forward, while her quick thoughts were treated the opposite way, being placed on pause on the one that seemed most coherent, and the best to do in the current situation.

She knelt by Matt, grasping his torso with her hands, curling her arms around his back, and used her legs to heave herself and the deadweight high enough to drag him onto the couch.

"Oomph! Oh God, Matt, lay down on the Poky!"

He was a lot heavier than he seemed, and she wondered if he was secretly hoarding loads of fat deep within the recesses of his body, or if he was simply so in-shape that his muscles weighed about 500 pounds.

Dragging him over to the couch, she managed, with great, tremendous strength, to push him onto the leather object, placing a pillow under his head before turning away to enter the kitchen.

Rummaging through the cupboards, she cursed loudly, not finding a single hint of ice or ice packs. Growling under her breath, she grabbed hold of his keys, and went in search for ice, which, fortunately was not far.

Upon retrieving her treasure, and growling at multiple elderly women who were walking far too slow in front of her, she returned to the apartment, slammed the door violently shut, and placed the packet of ice on the blond boy's bruised eye.

"Fuck, Matt, why do you piss me off so much?"

Growling profanities under her breath, she fought the urge to ram the ice pack violently against his eye, hoping to hurt him even more. How dare he even think about ditching her again? How could he? After what she had confessed to him just mere hours ago! It had hurt, it really had. She told him it had hurt, she had cried in his arms, opened her heart a lot more than she had done in the past two years, and he had rejected it all, thrown it all into her face, telling her he did not care one bit about her, ignoring her emotions, her pain, just so he could go out for another attempted fuck.

Cursing loudly, she turned away from him, slamming her hands against the coffee table with a loud bang, tears leaking from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks. She was so sick of crying, sick of having her heart torn into a million shards, sick and tired of love. She didn't want to love, never asked to love, never wanted to feel the joy of being in his arms, the happiness of being held, and the sheer, raw desire aimed for him and only him. She never asked for it. So why was she plagued with it? Why was it that it would not go away, go hide in a dark crack inside her mind, where her anger, frustration, depression, and self-hatred were locked away, hiding from the light of the real world.

Pounding her fists against the wooden surface, she dug her nails sharply into her palms, body shaking with the effort not to cry. She was sick of crying, of feeling the cold tears against her cheeks, of constantly having headaches because of her tears. She was tired of being hurt, of feeling upset, she was sick and tired of everything to do with men, a certain Yamato in particular.

Why was it that every time she got close, she opened her heart to him, drew him into her arms, that the next minute he was leaving her sharply, pushing her away violently, forcing her back into the dark void she came from as he disappeared into light, fading away so she could be with someone better.

What did Aiko have that Mimi did not? Other than sexual experience, obviously, seeing she was such a whore. But other than sexual experience, what was it about her that attracted Matt? Was it her sense of humour? Was she actually intelligent? Or was it simply because she was skinny and perfect bodied, small breasts, thin waist, probably a size zero.

"Fuck you Yamato. I don't even know why I'm trying to help you." She turned to him, standing and pacing roughly across the room. "Fuck you! I'm sick of you! Did you know that? I'm fucking sick and tired of playing these goddamned games with you! How could you be kissing me one second, and next fucking minute you're going out with that … that … slut! I just don't understand you! One minute you basically say you love me, and then next you're telling me you want her instead! Make up your fucking mind already! Fucking learn to make some real choices instead of going back and forth! You need to decide something on your own for once! I'm sick and tired of playing these stupid, childish games like we did when we were younger! Why can't you make a proper decision? Why can't you seem to tell me the truth? Why won't you finally tell me what you feel?"

She continued pacing, so fast and hard that she actually feared she would eventually create a ditch in the middle of the living room. Her hands were waving around violently with each spoken word, jerking out in angry gestures, symbolizing her desperate need to hit something, anything.

"Fuck you, Yamato Ishida! Fuck you!"

Suddenly, she found herself on her knees, face buried in her hands as tears broke through her dam. "Fuck. Why do you always make me cry? Why, Yamato, why? Why do you always affect me like this? I hate crying."

Her hands slammed against the leather sofa, and she buried her face against the seat, hitting her fists, the pounding growing softer with each heart-wrenching, body-shaking sob.

"I hate you."

"Why do you always make me cry?"

The words were formed into broken sentences in his mind, slowly forming into coherent sentences that were occasionally broken by sobs and heavy breathing. He knew the voice, despite his lack of focus and awareness of his surroundings, he knew the owner of the voice.

Mimi. He felt the pounding hands against the surface he lay on, knew she was hitting it repeatedly with each cry. His heart wrenched at the sound of her tears, barely aware of the throbbing pain in his face and the cold object pressed against his left eye. He could care less about whether she had hit him or not. Right now, she was crying, and, as she had said, he had caused it.

"Why, Yamato, why? Why do you always affect me like this?"

He wasn't sure how to answer that particular question. She affected him in ways he had never been affected before, and it confused him. He never knew how to act around her, never knew what to do with her, and did not certainly know why each time he neared her, he was fighting the urge to caress her tenderly, to bring her into his arms and crush his lips against hers.

"I hate crying."

So did he. He found it always gave him a headache. Speaking of which, he had one at the moment, and it was increasing in strength. But he knew the source of it; she had hit him. Right on the side of the face, and it was a strong punch, too. Knocked him out cold, and he wasn't even sure how long he had been out for. All he knew for certain was that he had deserved it. He had chosen another girl over her, had openly rejected her, he had pushed her away, replacing her with someone who certainly was not adequate enough to replace Mimi.

But he had done it. He had told her to spend Christmas Eve, one of the most important nights in Japan for women, alone, in his house, with take-out. He had told her that she was a Christmas Cake, an unwanted, useless female, not fit for any man. However, he knew that this particular statement was wrong; she was not useless, and he certainly wanted her. But he didn't know how to tell her that. How was he supposed to go ahead and say, "Mimi, I want you"? It was terribly confusing at times.

"I hate you."

The dreaded words were choked out between violent sobs, and he felt the sudden urge to cry, as well, wanting to do nothing other than roll over and cry into the pillow cradling his head. He wanted to grab hold of something and sob against it, to hit something, to do anything in order to express his sudden breaking of his heart. He had never felt such an emotional experience before in his entire life, and he never wanted to experience such despair ever again in his entire life.

His hand lifted, and found her cheek, moist with tears, and he gently brushed his thumb along a tear that was falling down to her chin.

"Don't."

She instantly recoiling, jerking so violently back that she hit the coffee table with a loud bang and a moan of pain. Rubbing her back, she scowled angrily at him.

"Don't what? Don't do anything you don't want me to do? What don't you want me to do? Have fun? Feel love? Be happy?"

The vehemence laced through her voice was poisonous, the words spat out at him like a snake spits out its own venom. It clearly said 'back off'.

He opened his eyes, finding it difficult to open his left one. After removing the cold pack from his left eye, he managed to scowl at her in response.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Be happy? Love? What the fuck is all that bullshit?" He searched violently for some sort of fuel he could use to argue back with her. "How about don't fucking hit me anymore!"

She stood, facing him as he got to his feet. Placing the coffee table between them, face flushed with fury, snarling at him with rage, she retorted cruelly, "You fucking deserved it for being such an ass."

"Who gives a shit? A guy can act like an ass from time to time! Tai acts like an ass 24/7, and you don't see Sora hitting him! Seriously, what's your goddamned problem anyways? What makes you think you're my leader or anything? All you do now is bitch and complain and cry. Grow the fuck up."

Hands balled into fists, she visibly jerked at the words, before attempting to regain her composure. "So why can't I act like a fucking girl? Why can't I cry? Why can't I be able to nag a little bit? What's you're problem? Are you just pissed off because a girl hit you? Is that it now?" She aggressively ran her hands through her hair. "What are you going to do about it, eh? Are you going to just fucking bitch and yell at me for punishment? Or are you going to fucking hit me? I know you wouldn't hit me, so stop complaining. What I want to know is how you can treat me like this!"

"Treat you like what? Like a guest in my home? Like my friend? Like someone who deserves the best, but already has so much of it that it's nearly impossible to give the rest to? How the fuck do you want to be treated? Do you really want me to fucking hit you? Because right now, I want to really, really fucking punish you."

She jerked back as his arm twitched involuntarily, and she found herself moving quickly away, shying against the wall as he stepped slowly forward, mimicking a predator on the hunt, following its prey with angry, hungry eyes that yearned for its victim to bleed.

As he took that one final step, standing before her, her head practically squished against his chest, he smiled cruelly down at her before grabbing her shoulders and pushing her against the wall. "What do you want? Why can't you tell me what you fucking want?"

He crushed his lips against her, bruising them, hard and passionate. She tasted the anger and irritation, swallowing the frustration that consumed his very body. She felt his need vibrate throughout his form, felt him tremble against her body at the feel of his mouth pressed roughly against hers, so hard that her teeth dug into her lips.

He pulled away, gasping for breath, his face pressed against hers, his breath tickling her cheek. "Is this what you want? Do you want me? Do you want me to fucking kiss you? Or do you want me to fuck you? Are you jealous of Aiko? Is that why you hate the idea of us going out on a friendly date? Are you fucking jealous that she and I might fuck, and you'll never get me afterwards? Are you jealous?"

The cruelty and reality of his words were harsh, abrasive against her skin, her body, and heart. She fought in the grasp of his arms, but his grip tightened to a near bruising one. His thumbs dug into her biceps, causing her to wince with pain.

"Fuck you, Yamato." She spat at his face, shifting to attempt to kick him hard in the shins.

He suddenly let go of her, his entire body shaking with unreleased fury and rage, trembling violently with each heavy breath.

"All I want to know is what you want." He spoke through gritted teeth, his voice low and laced with furious venom. "Is that too much to ask? I just want to know what you want so I can give it to you. Don't you understand? I hate seeing you cry. I just want to know what will make you stop crying." His face softened, and reality sank in. She was cowering away from him, trying to press herself against the wall, fury and rage flashing in her brilliant brown eyes. It was apparent that she feared him, feared what he would do to her, feared that he would hurt her.

Tears trickled down her cheeks, slowly at first, before gaining speed, dripping off her chin at an increasing pace. Her body shook with the effort not to sob loudly, and pain and guilt consumed his eyes.

"Mimi…" He tenderly shifted forward, placing a gentle hand against her cheek, wiping at the tears. His hand trailed down to her arms, where red marks replaced his fingertips, bruising already beginning around the marks. "I hurt you." Pain laced his voice, making it tight with guilt and worry. "I … didn't want to hurt you."

She attempted to move away, but his tender hands against her skin stopped her, the gesture was so gentle, so loving that it made her pause in her tracks.

"Mimi…Please. Forgive me."

She turned away from him as he let her go. She walked into the main entrance, tugging on her jacket and boots, forgetting her chocolate and movie, forgetting the whole idea of sitting in the apartment and relaxing. She needed to get away from this place, to leave it behind her, to forget any thoughts of Matt and his gentle touch.

"I … I need to go out. Is that all right?"

He shrugged, trying to appear as though it were a normal conversation between two friends. "Do what you want. You don't need to ask me if you want to do something that'll make you happy."

'But I do. I want you to love me. I want to ask you if you love me. I want you to tell me that you love me. That will make me happy.' She nodded, wiping furiously at her tears. "All right." She went to the door, spare key in hands. "I don't know when I'll be back."

He simply nodded and watched her leave, the door closing softly behind her, leaving him alone in the apartment. A couple tears slowly leaked from his eyes, and he looked at the door, willing it to open so she could hear his confession.

"I'm sorry … I'm sorry I love you …"

Matt lay back on Tai's bed, his arms cradling his head, eyes staring fixatedly at a spot on the white ceiling. His foot tapped nervously against his calf, a scowl plastered to his face.

Tai leaned against the edge of the bed, watching Matt's every movement. The blond boy had arrived about half an hour before, face bruises, eyes swollen, looking at though he had … cried. Guilt swirled in the blue waves of his eyes, agony tearing at his heart, and Tai knew that something wrong had happened.

Fighting back the horrific headache he currently had, he was glad that the nausea had finally subsided just before Matt's arrival. Sora, on the other hand, had not had any chance to sober up the slightest bit the night before, and was still hunched over the toilet. Music blared from the living room, blanketing the sound of Sora's actions.

"So, Matt, are you finally going to tell me what happened?"

Matt shrugged in response. "I don't know." He turned his head to Tai, saw the sincere concern in his friend's eyes, and sighed heavily. "To be honest, I don't know anything anymore. I used to be so sure, so strong; I used to know what I wanted, what others wanted, and what I needed. But all of it's changed. I'm so confused now; I really don't know what I want."

Tai leaned forward, resting his head on the edge of the bed, gazing into Matt's eyes, searching for some telltale sign of what had occurred that early afternoon. "Just tell me what happened. Maybe I can tell you what you want."

Matt sighed once more, and it was a sorrowful one, an exhalation of breath filled with regret and despair, agony and self-hate. "I hurt Mimi."

Tai jerked violently on the spoke, and forced his voice to remain calm as he spoke, "What did you do to her?"

"I just lost it. We were talking about Aiko, and she punched me. I woke up, and she was saying stuff, like how she hated me. I tried talking to her calmly, but she started screaming, and crying, saying how I didn't know what she wanted and stuff along that line." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the images of their argument from his mind. "I just lost it. I grabbed her, screaming at her, I wanted to know what she wanted. I had no clue I had really lost it until I saw her crying, saw the bruises, and I knew that I had hurt her. She left about twenty minutes before I came over."

Tai frowned at Matt, curiosity glinting in his eyes as well as a deep-rooted anger that would grow if the answer to his question were not what he wanted to hear. "Bruises?"

Rubbing his hands over his face in frustration, wincing as he rubbed his black eye, causing pain to slowly ebb from the spot and into the back of his skull. "Yeah, bruises. I grabbed her arms a bit too hard when I pushed her against the wall and kissed her. I guess I squeezed a bit too hard. I didn't mean to, I swear. I stopped at soon as I saw her wince. I felt horrible when I saw the bruises. I still feel horrible."

Tai scowled in reaction, frowning at his friend. "You never told me you kissed her."

A bright blush filled Matt's face, going up from his neck to his cheeks. "Yeah. I didn't want to tell you; I didn't want to embarrass her or anything."

"Well, I think you've embarrassed her enough for one day."

Matt slammed a fist against the mattress in frustration. "Fuck. I don't know what to do! I want to help her; I want to do anything I can to just make her stop crying! I hate it when she cries. It kills a part in me when she does. Whenever she cries, I just want to go kill the reason she's crying, to kill the person that caused it." He groaned angrily. "I get so frustrated when she doesn't answer me. I don't know what she wants."

Sitting Indian style, he began to fiddle with a soccer ball, watching Matt fight the variety of emotions playing across his face. "Well, maybe what she wants is the same thing you want."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what I mean is that, you guys want the same thing, but you don't know what you want." He bounced the ball lightly on the carpeted floor. "I heard Kari and T.K. talking earlier, and they said something that really interested me."

Curiosity glinted in Matt's eyes. "What did they say?"

Taking in a deep breath, he prepared himself for the worst reaction possible before repeating what the two had said earlier. "That you guys love each other."

His body jerked visibly and Matt scowled in Tai's direction, immediately blushing darkly. "Me? Love her? Yeah, right. Okay, in your dreams. How could I love her? She's my best friend! That would be like … incest!"

'Good answer.'

Tai fought back the urge to smile at Matt's reaction, which was similar to that of a child in love, trying to use silly excuses, like girls had cooties and so forth, so that he wouldn't have to speak the truth about his feelings.

"Matt, look, you need to get her some space, and I'm pretty sure that you going out with Aiko isn't going to help your relationship; she really hates the girl. I mean, really hates her. Sora's barely friends with her but invited her to the party anyways because she's a good client for Sora and her mom. That's the only reason Aiko was invited, so that Sora and her mom could make some profit out of it."

Matt's mouth shifted, forming an 'O' as the realization hit him, although, it wasn't the right realization he wanted to experience at that particular moment. He had wanted Tai to tell him that yes, Mimi was jealous of Aiko, that Mimi wanted to be in Aiko's place on Christmas Eve, and that Mimi, did indeed, love him. But he knew that he could only get those answers from the girl.

"Anyways, what's done is done." Tai sighed. "What you need to do now is do a proper cleanup, which means no longer making her cry. You know how people get cranky whenever they cry." Matt's lips curled slightly into a faint smile. "Anyways, you need to tell her you really mean it when you say you're sorry. At least, that's what I do whenever Sora and I argue." He shrugged. "You need to show her that you respect and love her, and stop lying to yourself about your feelings. We all know that you really care about her. And stop bringing Aiko into conversations with her; that will only make things worse." Placing the ball aside, he stood, heaving Matt to his feet. "That's all I can say right now. Sorry I don't know what else to tell you."

The blond smiled softly at his friend, the grin reaching his eyes with pure sincerity. "Thanks, Tai. I'll see you later, okay?" He turned to the doorway.

"Oh, Matt. There's something else you need to know."

"What is it?"

"Aiko has herpes, so, please, if you respect your body, don't have sex with her. It will just ruin your life."

Matt laughed in response, before turning and leaving the apartment, trying to figure out just how he could perfectly mend their current situation.

The apartment was empty and quiet when she returned, silent and desolate, containing no hint of violence from that afternoon, of sudden lust and anger, fury and confessions. It simply stayed in the spot, filled with a cluster of objects, seemingly homely, relaxing, and calm.

She wasn't in the mood to watch her movie; it would only make her cry even more. Instead, she found her way towards her bedroom, grabbed hold of her bathroom necessities, a towel from the hall closet, and made her way into the washroom, leaving the door slightly ajar so she could hear when Matt got home.

Turning onto the shower, the spray was hot and comforting against her bared flesh, heating her up from her excursion into the cold outdoors. It had snowed while she was gone, and the flakes in her head melted, mingling with the warm water as they trailed down her body and into the drain.

Running her hands through her hair, further moistening it, she sighed softly. She didn't know what to do about Matt, or their relationship. She knew he cared, but she wasn't sure if it was a simple brotherly care, or something more, something with more emotion and love directed towards her.

Uncapping the shampoo bottle, she placed it aside before lathering the thick liquid into her hair, causing it to bubble slightly and froth against her locks.

Sighing softly, she willed herself to no longer think about worrying subjects and focused on bathing and cleansing her body.

Her arms throbbed slightly with each movement, the bruises growing slightly more pronounced against her skin. She shuddered slightly at the memory of Matt ramming her against the wall, savagely taking her mouth in a primitive, rough kiss.

Touching her lips, she shivered with pleasure at the memory, running her hands tenderly against the bruises on her arms. She had always felt herself to be a romantic woman in bed, someone who ached for it to be slow, passionate, with roses and candlelight, but the thought of him shoving her against and up the wall, taking her hard and fast right there caused heat to pool in her womb and her breasts to ache as they tightened with need.

Rinsing her hair, she tilted her head back, letting out a soft moan of pleasure at the feel of the beating water against her body. She wasn't sure what was wrong with her, why she was thinking such erotic thoughts about a man who had just yelled at her, told her that he did not want her, but she couldn't help it.

She loved him. She couldn't help it.

Lathering soap into her hands, she slowly, meticulously, began to rub over her body, gently massaging her bruises arms, slowly making her way down. She should be angry with him, infuriated, her tears should be mingling with the hot water as she sat at the tub, sobbing her heart out. But she couldn't

She had heard him when she left, her head against the door, just barely able to hear his whispered words. But she had heard them. Heard his confession.

"I'm sorry I love you."

Sighing softly, turning into the spray to rinse off the soap, she closed her eyes, whispering her response.

"I can't hate you, Matt."

She heard the apartment door open, heard his footsteps against the carpeted floor, responded loudly when he asked if she was in the shower, heard the door click shut, and then continued her whispered response.

"I'm sorry, Matt … I'm sorry I love you too."

What did you guys think? I've read so many romance novels where the guy goes kind of angry/psycho on the girl, but in the end, they still love each other. I decided to add my own bit into it.

I know there was a lot of cursing, but, really, be honest, when people get mad, they swear a LOT! Especially guys. Haha.

I thought it was a good chapter. A little longer than most, but I had so much to write. I still want to keep writing it, but then it would be WAY too long. Haha.

Anyways, please don't forget to Review. I will NOT post up Chapter 15 UNTIL I get AT LEAST THREE REVIEWS!

Oh, yes, again, for those who didn't like the swearing, you were warned, do not flame me because you are too immature and childish to listen to others. Grow up. Deal with it.

Ciao. 3