So sorry to all of you who waited for this chapter. I am sure you will be quite happy with it although it is quite short. Please forgive me. I have been having some troubles in life lately. Just got out of the hospital officially and now I am on antidepressants. I am not happy that I am forced to take them, but hey. Everyone needs a little help. It just took me a while to see that I did. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now and let you get to the story. And a warning, the next chapter is very short too. But at least I have it good and ready!

Mitchie came out of the kitchen, balancing two cups in one hand and a large bowl of pop corn in the other. Nate smiled and chuckled, standing up to help her out. "Nah!" she said quickly. "I don't need help." she muttered, setting it all down on the coffee table. He just laughed in response. "You are the queen of stubborn!" he said exasperatedly. She just shook her head and smiled, looking over at the screen. "What are we watching?" she asked.

Nate shrugged. "We're gonna go from Transformers 2, to Saw 5, to Drag me to hell." he mumbled. Mitchie smiled. "Any particular reason why?" she asked teasingly. He smiled, sitting down on the couch, patting the spot beside him as the first movie started. "I love Transformers 2. Saw 5 is pretty awesome. And I haven't seen Drag me to hell yet." he informed her. She nodded. "Oh. Gotcha. I haven't seen Drag me to hell either. It's supposed to be really scary. I don't want to scare you off." she joked, pushing against his muscular shoulder. He laughed. "Yeah yeah." he said sarcastically.

As you and Nate sit on the couch, into your third movie by now, Drag Me To Hell, you jump-once again- this time, burying your head in his chest. You shiver slightly as you feel his hand graze up your back slightly to your hair softly in a comforting gesture. You steal a last peek at the movie before noticing the mocking smirk you were recieving from Nate. You sigh and roll your eyes. "What?" you hiss, attempting to sit up to recompose yourself. He stops you by just holding you tighter to his chest, continuing to smirk. "You OK?" he asks tantalizingly. You look away as you start to feel yourself blush. "I was caught off guard." you defend. He just nods, pressing his lips in a tight line, obviously not agreeing with you. "Of course you were." he mumbles, waves of sarcasm dripping off of his tongue. You turn your head to glare at him, not even realizing how close the two of you are. The second you see the emotion in his eyes fade from humor to something completely different, you jump up, catching him off guard. "Want coffee?" you blurt, quickly walking into the kitchen. You can feel his gaze upon you as you look around in the kitchen for practically nothing considering your thoughts are more than a little clouded at the moment. You feel nerves squirm through your chest to your stomach as you feel his presence behind you. Your mouth opens slightly as you feel his hand genly place on your waist to turn you around.

"I'm not him, Mitchie." you hear him murmur before you look up at him. He places both of his hands on the counter behind you, both of his arms resting against your ribs. You feel your breathing stop as you realize what he said. "What?" you ask stupidly, trying not to do more than just look at him. "I'm not him." he repeats. "I wont hurt you. I'm not him." his voice is a dangerous whisper. You sense deep hate flow off of him onto you as he speaks of your past. He glares at you harshly-more harsh than he ever would have under normal circumstances. "I know." you find yourself whispering, looking at the tiles on the kitchen floor. "You know." he repeats in a sarcastic, venemous hiss. Suddenly, he is away from you, walking towards the living room, releasing you from the powerful gaze. "Nate." you breathe, not even realizing why you called him back. "What?" you hear him say quietly, not turning towards you, just hesitantly stopping. "Nate, I know you're not him. I know." you whisper. "But I just-can't." you plead, still leaning against the counter.

And once again, you are being pressed up against the counter, only this time...

This time his lips find yours.

And you don't stop.

Instead, you find your fingers caressing their way up his face to his curly locks, pulling him closer to you, your lips moving harshly against each other.

You actually feel your eyes slide shut at the sensation of his lips moving against yours.

Did he really just make a move? And are you honestly moving back?

You feel your stomach knot as his moist, warm tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, daring to enter. You hesitantly, almost timidly, open your mouth and let him explore. You feel so weak and helpless as he tastes you and holds you closer. You never knew that Nate had this in him. Was he actually...experienced? Would that be weird to ask? How the hell did he all of a sudden, go from the innocent best friend of yours that had a crush on you, (and you back) go to this... dark, different man making you writhe beneath him just by the dangerous pull of his lips?

You feel his body press against yours, backing you up into the counter as one of his hands finds your hair, gently grabbing a fistful and holding you closer. He wants you to move back. He wants you to be just as passionate. You can tell from his touch. He is scared that you are going to reject him again. And you can tell by his every move that he is going to do whatever he can to make sure that you don't.

As if you could. It was too late now. There was no going back from here.

Because the second you start to twirl your tongue with his, you are gone.

So gone.

And from the sounds of his moan of approval, so was he.

This could be dangerous.