"You do realize that your 'Hero' Splendid is actually a self-righteous asshole, right." Lifty questioned. He was leaning against her kitchen counter, arms crossed, and occasionally scowling. His green eyes darted from the back of her vivid red hair to the digital blue numbers above her stove, his frown growing when she didn't respond to him; not that he thought she would.

For the past twenty minutes, ever since they had gotten through their silent dinner and she had started washing dishes, she had given him the cold shoulder, the silent treatment was the simplistic term. He didn't know why, because he had apologized – somewhat apologized – for the problem that he didn't cause, a smaller version of a crime that he wasn't guilty for, and she had forgiven him. So why was she angry at him now?

Would it have to do with how he had tried kicking Splendid's ass after he had put her down? Because if it was, the blue haired pervert had deserved it in the first place, and besides, he had tried to beat him up, but because of the disadvantage between his strength and the hero's, he had ended up getting his own injury.

Punching a superhuman across the face when they had skin like cement had not been the greatest idea the thief had thought of, but it had been an impulse reaction.

He had been trying to defend Flaky, why didn't she realize that? And what made it even worse and more frustrating for the twin was the untruthful lie that had been murmured to her. All the blame was being put on him for doing what, trying to help out and be nice for once instead of staying asleep like he had wanted. The one time that he had been convinced into trying to be a good person had ended in him being accused of something he didn't do.

Lifty knew what the accusation of committing a crime felt like, and he accepted it with a smirk on his face because he knew that it was all true, he had done it all and he wouldn't try to lie his way out of it. But when he was accused of pulling some stupid little trick that would help him look up a girl's skirt – it had been a blow to his pride, and it had most likely taken a toll on the trust that Flaky was giving him. It shouldn't have, and maybe it didn't still, but it was all unclear, and she wasn't helping by not answering to him when he was talking to her.

"Are you even going to talk to me anymore, Flaky?" Lifty furrowed his eyebrows and sighed in exasperation, fingers drumming on his arm as he waited for an answer. The only sound he got in response was the trickling of the water coming from the faucet, splashing down onto the soapy plates and draining away. "Flaky? Come on, don't be that way, I know you're going to have to answer to me sometime.

"I don't understand why you won't answer me, if it's about the bone that I have to pick with that idiot, it's between us. You shouldn't have interrupted it, I could have taken care of myself just fine without you protecting me." He scoffed, referring to how she had stood between him and the hero when they were about to get into another fight.

She didn't have to do it, he would have been able to do just fine with his newly sprained hand, it wasn't like he had begged her to stop it and save him from the moron's power. He would have never willingly taken her help, even if he had broken bones and a bloody nose, she had stooped in before he knew that she had figured out what was going on between the two teens.

Saved by a girl in the middle of a fight, he'd be a laughing stock in his old household, his teasing and constantly bringing it up to hold over his head.

The silence he was getting from her was tiring to say the least, he was always used to one person, at the least, telling him what to do or giving him some kind of order . . . But with her just pushing him aside . . it got under his skin. He was beginning to think that she had lost her voice from the shock of the fall, though the idea left when she spoke, her words soft and picked out carefully.

"If I hadn't interrupted," she never lingered on each sponge stroke, as if she wanted to remove all the muck on each plate while she dealt with the actually problem, "you would've gotten h-hurt. I didn't want to s-see you take the pain . . just because you were mad at Splendid . ."

Oh, mad didn't even begin to cover how he had felt towards the wannabe good guy. Loathing, hatred, utter repulsion, any of those words would have fitted better instead of such an overused one. But she wouldn't know what he was feeling, no, because she didn't, wouldn't bother thinking could happen, that her seemingly helpful friend would think of doing anything along the lines of being perverted. That's what also ticked him off about the situation.

But . . he couldn't overlook or pretend to not hear what she said about not wanting him to be hurt . . If that was true, he should have felt grateful that a person would be so kind as to step in and intervene when they saw he was hurt . . It didn't though. The fact of the matter was she thought he did something that he didn't.

"I never said I needed your help," retorted Lifty.

Flaky sighed, he was so stubborn she had learned the past two days, and looked over her shoulder to give him the full attention of her firm eyes. "O-oh yeah? Who was the one to drive y-you to the hospital to get an X-ray on your hand?"

His lips pressed into a hard line, he shrugged. "I could've hijacked a car and gone there myself."

"Who was the one who c-convinced Splendid to not go after you in your weak state? And also n-not try to carry you to the hospital?"

"He probably just wanted to drop me halfway there like the jackass he is," Lifty muttered to himself. It was times like this that he strongly believed that the klutz of a man knew what would occur and the deaths that would happen if he helped anybody; that's why he had insisted on helping him to the medical center.

Already he could imagine the excuse that Splendid would tell her when he came back empty handed, saying that he had accidentally lost hold of the twin and he was splattered against the road somewhere.

She stood quiet, her smooth, pale hands scrubbing over the plate that had long since been ready to be rinsed. Only after she had decided to rinse all the soapy residue off, the swirling foam disappearing down the drain, and put it on the drying rack did she turn to him. "What was I s-supposed to do? Stand by . . watch my friends get into a fight . . and do nothing?"

This sweet, loving, caring side of her was really starting to get infuriating. She was genuinely helpful, never asking for anything in return and just doing things for the welfare of others – and he didn't understand it one bit.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you, don't talk to strangers. If they say don't talk to them, you really think that they mean that it's okay to let them into your household and help them, just because they didn't say not to do it?" He was the stranger, the dark, mean, mysterious person who lurked the town in the dead of night to do and steal what he wanted; a Robin Hood with completely different reasons from stealing from the rich to give to the poor. Screw the poor, steal from the rich and keep for the greedy.

Then there was her, the innocent little girl who had thought she could befriend the stranger by being nice to him. The poor child wouldn't know what he was capable of doing, she had no street knowledge. Too trusting, naive, unaware of the unforgiving world that was out there. She had let her defenses come down and practically invited the stranger, the robber, to do anything he pleased.

But had she known the things about him that made him into the hated person he was, would she had even spared a passing glance? Obviously she would, because where was he now? Trying to convince her that he was someone who didn't need any kind of help from anyone.

"I just wanted to—!" She was cut short, a squeak forcing itself from her lips as her eyes widened. "Wha—!"

The man had closed the three steps between them with ease, hands placed on the counter on either side of her as he trapped her. He wore a small scowl, green eyes scrutinizing her face for any reaction he had gotten out of her. His glare pierced into her, the mischievous gone and replaced with seriousness, as his features grew mean, threatening.

"Lifty . . !" Flaky shrunk, crimson eyes watering as she quivered under the stare. It was . . different from his other sly, joking look. "I-I'm sorry if you got m-mad" –She poked her fingers together and stared at his chest, away from his gaze— "B-but I told you! I wasn't going to stand by and watch you two fight! . ."

"Why?"

"H-Hm?" Surprised by the question, her eyes snapped up to his. "What do you mean?"

The edge never left his stare as his mouth pulled back in a smirk. "I asked why? Look, Flaky, if you haven't noticed, I'm not nice, some people would even call me mean, so why bother with trying to help me by stopping something that didn't physically involve you?"

She didn't have a real answer for that, it was too direct and he didn't give enough time for her to think about it, so the first thing she thought of came tumbling out of her mouth. "B-because! That's not the kind of person I-I am! It's in my m-morals to help anyone . . because if I didn't . . who would know what I'm missing o-out on . ." Hand resting on his arm, she smiled tenderly, watching of her words had stricken a cord. "B-besides . . I don't think you're mean . .

"You're nice and . . I do believe that if you just tried hard enough you'd be living like anyone—" In the middle of her small speech she was interrupted, squeaking loudly when he grabbed the wrist of the hand that had been on his arm. With one tight squeeze, her face was contorted in discomfort and slight pain, half shut eyes staring at him in question at the sudden harshness.

Lifty smiled a little, glad that he wasn't hearing anymore of the niceness talk. If she wanted so badly to believe that he was a good guy, and that he wasn't the shifty crook that everyone knew he was, she'd have to reconsider after this. "Are you sure about that, Flaky~? It's not too late to change your mind."

Biting back the low whimpers she was inclined to utter, she shook her head, curls of hair dropping into her face and creating a crescent shape around her eye. "N-no . . I know you're just trying to scare me . . and it's not going to—" She whined, his other hand having come up and squished her face in his rough, calloused palm.

"It's almost cute how you think that everything in this world is perfect," Lifty started, chuckling at the highly uncomfortable look she had as she shifted from foot to foot, one hand grabbing onto the front of his shirt as a sign that she wanted to be released. "You really don't believe me when I say I'm mean?"

"N-no." Answered Flaky, defiance towards accepting the description he gave himself clear.

"Well you're wrong." All signs of humor fleeting his face, the smile dissipating into nothing, he let go of her wrist to bring it back onto the counter. His other hand still locking her wrist to him, he gave a flick to it, partly twisting, to twirl her around and face the sink. Her waving strands of hair as she was forcefully spun hung down like a drape that blocked her from seeing anything in her peripheral vision, the only thing in her line of sight were the faucet and garbage disposal switch.

Gnawing the flesh of her cheek, the nervous habit she had, she curved both slender eyebrows up in concern, assuming that the worst event that her mind could conjure up was about to take place. Her wrist getting sore, and the sensation of unease rising when she heard his nails grating into the wood of the counter, she was about to object, but was never given the opportunity when his hand cupped her mouth. Her tender lips being pressed down by the coarse skin, her ability to speak gone, she worried herself about what he would do.

"How mean do you want me to be to understand that trusting a man like me is wrong, it's what stupid people do. Because you know what happens when you trust people? They turn on you one day and betray you like you're nothing," He said, bitterness coating each and every word. "This was nice of you, I'll give you that, but I should really teach you a lesson about how easy you should give out invitations to your house." Grabbing her elbow and bending the joint, forearm now behind her back, he brought his mouth to the part of her hair where the top her ear showed through, his tone partially playful.

"Do you think I'm mean yet?" A mumble vibrating against his hand, the short, one syllable answer sounding like a no, he pressed against her backside, his body curving over hers and chest laying flat against her back. He could feel the warmth radiating from the skin of her cheeks where his fingers touched, the pose striking her as embarrassing. Feeling the arm under him feebly tugging on his vest and the quickening vibrations he felt, he could only assume that she was beginning awkward with what was happening.

"Just say that I'm mean and I'll let go~" Lifty cocked his head, his ear nearly pressing against the silky, tangled, scarlet strands of hair. She gave him no reply; he dug his short nails into the skin of her arm, barely making any indents, but it was enough to rile her up to the point where she whimpered, giving a small shake of her head to answer him. "You're not an easy one to give in, are you Flaky~? You should really just say the two words, and I won't ever have to be this persistent again."

The edge of the counter pressing into her bunchy sweater, her forehead inches above the faucet, and jabbed into the soft flesh of her abdomen. It was more trapping – with Lifty pressed up behind her, and the sink raising up to her face as she was lowered further by the weight on her back – than painful, causing her to toy with the thought of him not showing her his full strength and what he was capable of doing. The adjustments of his weight he was making more often, now that he was practically spooning her while standing up, only proved further that he had no real intention of hurting her, this was more for show than anything.

Lifty frowned when he felt the trembling of her body from beneath him, for instead of fear or the muffled protests he had been expecting, the faint giggling squeezed out from behind his hand. She was actually finding this funny. She was finding being without any kind of power and in a position where he could do anything that he wanted, sexual or harmful, and she was giggling about it. Like she didn't know what could happen to her – she really was a naive little girl.

"What's so funny?" Annoyed that his plan wasn't going to way he had thought it would in the five minutes before when they were in nothing but silence, he let his hand slide down from her lips and trail the sensitive area under her jaw.

Flaky smiled, paying little attention to his touches and giggled again. "I-it's just . . I found it funny that you m-made me believe your act for a moment . . I almost thought that you really were g-going to do something!" –Another laugh— "You know . . if n-none of the jobs that we'll look for one of these days works for you . . maybe y-you can go into the acting business . . !"

She had unintentionally killed his thunder right there, leaving him confused, a bit mad, but overall surprised that she didn't shed one tear through the entire harassment session, being the crybaby that she was known as.

Dropping his hands to his sides, he grumbled something about having to go see if he dropped his raccoon chain in the seat of the couch and leaving her in her giggle fit, scowling more now that his meanings to give her a threat went down the toilet. He was almost out of the kitchen door when he felt a warm body pushed up against his back, his muscles tensing as two slim arms wrapped around his torso in a hug.

An eyebrow arched, he looked behind him warily, "W-what . ."

Flaky turned her eyes up to him, face glowing from the contact and pink lips upturned in a friendly smile. "If it makes you f-feel any better . . I'll s-say this . . Lifty, I think you're m-mean!" After she had said it, she emitted another giggle, burrowing her face into the musky scented shirt he was wearing, ignoring the look he had that said it didn't make him feel any better.

xXx

Hey changed my A/N style and I typed this up on my Kindle through Evernote (OMG CRYSTAL you were right I do feel freer when writing it there instead of a normal laptop xD) so if there's any mistakes . . Feh I'll read it tomorrow when I'm not tired. Now that I can just type these from a non-heavyassandtiringlaptop . . I think I'll type more chapters later! :D School will not thwart me!