A/N: To all my lovely readers, I'm soooo sorry I haven't updated in so long. My sincerest apologies, really. My internship leaves me with like no time for other activities. I tried to give you a nice long chapter in apology, but it ended up being pretty much the same length as all the others. Sigh.

But I'm actually happy with how this chapter turned out, even though I gave up for about a week before picking it back up. So please, tell me what you think! Let's see if we can hit 70 reviews!

Disclaimer: If I owned the Hunger Games, Cato would have run to Clove at the Feast during the movie. SO MUCH RAGE.

Chapter Nine

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"My point is, your sister is much too young to be seriously involved with a boy."

I'm sitting at my mother's kitchen table, chatting while choking down some spinach. Ever since Tara discovered that I was depressed and miserable, my mother has forced me to come over and eat vegetables. She's convinced it has something to do with a vitamin deficiency.

In the last two weeks or so, I have felt better- so maybe it actually has helped.

I swallow, and try to remain neutral. I don't want to get in between one of their arguments. "Tara's fifteen, Mom. I think that she's old enough to start make her own decisions. Besides, I don't think that it's anything serious." I maneuver carefully because I can't believe that my mother would be happy with my own nighttime arrangement with Cato.

We're not doing anything, so she shouldn't be upset, but there's something awfully suspicious about two teenagers spending their nights together cooped up in a bedroom.

Nothing's happened, but I've started to wish something has. Damn hormones.

I can't complain though. My life's gotten a lot more bearable lately. Tara and I have been getting along better, my mother actually cares about my wellbeing, and I've gotten at least eight hours of sleep every night. And I get to spend time with Cato, which makes me happier than I'm willing to admit to myself or anybody else.

So all in all, I'm a lot happier. Don't get me wrong- the Games still haunt me, and I get these flashbacks almost every day. But things seem a lot more manageable.

"Well, she does go through these boys pretty quickly. You're right, it's just a fling." It's cute watching her actually using her maternal instincts and not being as distant as before. "Clove, could you go and get me a protein supplement?" My mother's Career days might be behind her, but she still keeps in pristine shape.

I agreeably go into the kitchen to rummage through the cabinet for the supplements my mother wants, but instead, my hand closes around an unfamiliar little bottle. Curious, I take it out, and read the label.

It's all medical jargon really, but several words jump out at me. Anti-depressant. Ingest with food. Mood stabilizer. And now I understand the meals my mother has been forcing on me. My head feels curiously hollow, and there's a ringing noise in my head. I can't believe she's been drugging me.

Calmly, I shut the cabinet door, still holding that little bottle of pills in my palm. Mother looks expectantly at me, and her eyes immediately flick to my clenched hand. My mother is cunning, I'll give her that much; she pretends she hasn't seen it and refuses to bring it up on her own.

I struggle to keep my voice level. "What's this?"

She finally relents, and looks at the container. She breezily brushes it off, "Oh, that's nothing. Just an old bottle of pills. They're long expired."

I can't believe she can just tell such blatant lies to my face. I reply testily, "Oh really? They're old? Then why does the label say they were issued two weeks ago?"

Finally caught, my mother exhales. "Fine. I've been …slipping them into the food for the past two weeks. But I was doing it for your own good!"

I'm not really listening though, instead shaking my head to stop these stupid tears from coming out. "I can't believe you don't even think I'm capable of getting my own shit together!" I scream. "I told you I didn't want anything from the Capitol."

"Your health isn't something to be stubborn about Clove. We were worried about you, and the Capitol was happy to help!"

"We? You and Tara both wanted to drug me up so I wouldn't go kill myself? God, I can't believe this- actually I can."

"… and what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that obviously you two were scheming behind my back. It's always you and Tara against me, and I'm sick of it!"

"Stop being childish. We just wanted what was best for you!"

"You thought I needed Capitol pills to get my life together? Way to have faith in me. Stop pretending that you want what's best for me! The cold truth is that you never cared the slightest bit about me. You only have eyes for your precious Tara, and you didn't give a shit about me until I won the Games. Which you thought I couldn't do. You always told me to give up- Dad was the only one who ever believed in me!"

My mother has tears in her eyes. In the back of my mind, I savagely congratulate myself for reducing the great Atlanta Goodridge to tears. "Clove- I always thought you could do it- I just didn't want you to get reaped!"

I don't even stop to consider this. "Bullshit, Mom. Stop pretending you care about me. I know I'm just the mistake- that you got knocked up with me. No wonder you left me and Dad and ran off with some Capitol prick."

Her eyes grow cold. "Don't talk about things you don't understand, Clove. You have no idea what was actually going on."

"I know that you abandoned us. That you got pregnant with Tara, so that guy left you. And I know that you have no faith in me whatsoever. I think that's all I need to know."

With that, I storm out of the house, my head held high and my mind painfully clear.

.

"So how's the photography going?"

I look up from the notes I'm taking after we've finished another upsetting Games video- the 70th this time. The victor, a girl named Annie Cresta, went mad afterwards.

Cato and I have decided to make a book to honor all the tributes from the Games. After each recap, we carefully record down all the tributes' names, before we watch the other footage and interviews. I usually write- my handwriting's much better- and Cato dictates, because he has a much better memory and a sharper eye when it comes to finding information on the tributes. Every little thing they do, he picks up on. He's observant that way.

My hand aches, so I willingly drop my pen. "It's going okay. I feel like an idiot though when I just randomly point my camera at things. I don't know what to take pictures of."

He leans back on the sofa and puts his arms behind his head arrogantly. "You could take pictures of me- I'm sure the Capitol would love that."

"Ha ha." I say sarcastically. "I mean, it would be an effective way of blinding themselves. I'll think about it."

He pouts, and my heart flutters for just a second. "Just trying to help."

"Yeah, real good advice. How's the metal-forging going?"

"Okay, a little boring. I don't know how to do anything besides swords and knives, though. I want to move onto other stuff. Could you help me?"

I roll my eyes from my position sitting on the floor. "How could I help you with that?"

"Wasn't your dad the best ironsmith in Two?"

My stomach drops. I can't believe I forgot that. "Yeah… yeah he was." I must look upset, because Cato sits up from his reclining position.

"Hey Clove. It's fine, I can get somebody else to help me." He looks at me hard. "You must really miss him, huh?"

"I do." I say softly. Then I shake off my emotions. "I'm fine."

"Clove." He says my name just once, but I can tell that Cato doesn't believe me. He really is observant.

"I'm just a little unstable from my argument with my mother earlier today." The truth slips out. I wasn't planning on telling Cato about it, but something about him always makes my secrets come pouring out.

"What was it about?"

I shake my head as I get up to sit on the couch. "It's just stupid- she slipped some anti-depressants into my food."

His fists clench. "I can't believe she did that. Unbelievable."

"I know right?" Sometimes, Cato is my best ally because we're so alike. "She was worried that I was going to kill myself or some shit like that. But she obviously just thought I wasn't strong enough to handle it."

His face becomes troubled. "She thought you were going to kill yourself? Were you that bad off?"

"No, no… I mean I was pretty miserable, but I don't think I would have killed myself."

He buries face in his hands, rubs his eyes hard with the heels of his hands. "Why didn't you come to me- never mind. Don't be so harsh on her; she was just worried about you."

This swift about-face leaves me feeling betrayed. I thought Cato was on my side. "She fucking drugged me." I say slowly, as if I were talking to a particularly slow child. "She thought I wasn't strong enough to handle it, that I needed to resort to the Capitol's help."

"She wanted was best for you, Clove. She was obviously concerned you weren't going to make it!"

"Well I'm sick of everyone's pity! And I can manage my own life! Or maybe they're all right, and I really am as weak as they think I am! It was stupid for me to think that I could get better all by myself. But either way, I don't want help from anyone, much less pity!"

He scoffs. "It's not pity, stop being so proud."

"That's exactly what it is! You- you don't get it! You always get respect, but it's not the same for me! People always try to limit me, or think they have me all figured out, or something. Like oh, she's small, she must be fragile, she'll never win. Or she's a Career, she can't possibly have a heart. They only see what they want to see! I'm fucking more complex than that, dammit. My mom only sees me as this fuck-up, and Tara only sees me as competi-"

"Clove, I know you're pissed off right now, but that's not tru-"

"And you," I cut him off with a glare and a pointed finger. "You're the worst of all. You always want me to be things that I'm not. One day, you want an ally. Fine. But then, all of a sudden, we're meant to be, or some shit like that. What the fuck? And sometimes we're best friends, and sometimes all we do is fight. What do you want from me?" I end my crazed, pathetic rant breathlessly.

This stumps him for a minute.

But Cato- the evasive bastard- answers my question with another question. "Don't worry about me. What do you want from yourself?" God, he must have gotten into Lyme's psychobabble books. Who knew he could even read?

I gape at him, taken aback. "Does that really matter to you?" I ask skeptically.

"Of course. You always matter to me." He says it so simply, I'm suspicious, naturally. I tilt my head and study him through squinted eyes. I search his blue eyes for a speck of deceit, and find none.

So I kiss him.

It's supposed to make him stop talking, but to be honest, I've been wanting to for a while.

It's supposed to be a simple, safe peck to test the waters of our relationship.

But then, he pulls me onto his reclining body and slides his hand to rest on the curve of my back, and I know I'm royally fucked.

.

No matter how firmly I tell myself to not start anything with Cato, I still let myself enjoy the kiss. Just for a little bit. He pulls me flush to his body, and I feel my own arms twine themselves behind his neck. We haven't kissed in two months- since the arena- but we fit together like we haven't lost a day of practice. His lips move slowly against mine, and I cautiously slip out my tongue to taste them. A low groan emits from deep within his chest, and I smirk against his mouth. Cato feels my smugness, and flips us over so that I'm pinned beneath his unyielding body. I sink into the couch cushions, completely engulfed by his body.

Damn, he's good- this feels fucking amazing.

I'm breathless, desperate for more and without really thinking about the consequences, I hitch my leg over his waist. Cato tries to stifle a shudder. Almost as if in retaliation, he begins to nip at the soft column of my thin neck. I can't help it- a drawn-out moan leaves my lips- and I flush in embarrassment. Cato chuckles and his fingers start to play with the hem of my shirt. As he tries to pull it up, his actions wane just enough in intensity that I regain my senses.

Furious at him for successfully distracting me, and furious at myself for succumbing to my hormones, I shove him off me, sending him tumbling to the floor.

It is quiet for a few moments.

Cato sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "What the fuck, Clove?"

I cross my arms defensively. My hair's mussed, and my lips still tingle a little. "I should ask you the same. Way to attack me."

He rolls his eyes as he sits back down on the couch, far too close to my legs. "If I remember correctly, Princess, you jumped on me first."

I freeze at his point, and can feel a blush spreading on my cheeks again. "I was proving a point. God."

Cato turns to face me, puts his arm along the back of the couch. "And what point would that be? Care to enlighten me?"

There wasn't really a point, and my mind races for a possible explanation. "My point was that, given the chance, you'll try to seduce me in a second! I thought we we're done with the mind games!"

Cato's face curls into a sneer, he spits out. "I'm the one with mind games? You're always hot and cold with me, Clove. You can't just kiss me and push me away at the same time. I'm tired with whatever you're playing at." His eyes drop to his clenched fists. "I'm tired of all of this."

I realize that my confusion has hurt Cato the most, and feel almost guilty. Should I tell him that it was a mistake? Or that I can't help feeling something for him- but I'm unwilling to give the Capitol more ways to hurt me? That no matter what I tell him, spending my night with him is the highlight of my day? He expects an apology- or at least some sort of response, but as I open my mouth, I am at a loss about what to say. I can't lose Cato. I can't.

Suddenly, Cassie barrels in through the door. "Mom said you were watching movies. Can I watch too?"

Thank God for small miracles- or rather, thank God for Cassie. Startled, Cato and I move to opposite sides of the couch. Cato looks pissed off, while I smile innocently at Cassie. "I'm not sure you want to watch these kinds of movies, Cass."

Cato, sensing an opportunity to get me alone again, jumps in. "Yeah, midget. It's old Games footage- not really family friendly."

Cassie wrinkles her little nose, disgusted. "Oh. Never mind then." Her face brightens again though. "Can we watch something else instead?"

Cato opens his mouth, a little frustrated at his little sister's antics. "Cass, we're busy. Maybe tomorrow afternoon?"

Cassie sighs melodramatically. "Finnee." She turns to leave.

Realizing this is the only chance I might get to escape, I say quickly. "Cassie, wait up! Er.. I should get going too. It's almost my um… bed time." I have never had a bedtime in my life.

Cassie stops to wait, but Cato waves her off, never taking his eyes off me. "Ignore her, Cassie. We're going to keep watching."

She furrows her brow just like Cato does when he's confused. "What if she gets tired? You don't expect her to sleep here, do you?"

I smirk. Cato's family has no idea that that's exactly what we do every night, and we want to keep it that way. "Right you are, Cassandra. I'm getting a little sleepy." I get up off the couch, avoiding Cato's glare.

Once I have safely crossed the threshold, I hazard a glance back at Cato sprawled out on the couch. "See you tomorrow?"

Cato's blue eyes are drilling holes into the back of my head, and something in them promises that this isn't over yet.

.

Of course, once I leave, I figure out that I probably can't sleep tonight without Cato by my side. To pass the time, I walk through Two with Merino's camera.

At night, there's no one staring at me, judging me. Just my even breathing and silent footsteps.

I start by taking pictures of anything that holds my attention for more than three seconds, but eventually I start to actually take pictures that matter to me. The Justice Building shrouded in moonlight. The abandoned storefront where my dad used to sell his weapons. The Training Center, always looming ominously. I decide that just like the book Cato and I are making in memory of all past Games, I should keep some photos of things that I find important. In memory of myself, I guess- so the Capitol won't be able to change me anymore than they already have.

As I amble through the district, I have almost made peace with myself. I reach the outskirts of town and the mountain that contains the Capitol's control center gradually appears. Only Peacekeepers are supposed to know exactly where it is, but Cato's dad, who's Head Peacekeeper in the district, told us about all about the Command Room once when he got tipsy.

My state of inner tranquility is momentarily shattered. Even though I want to move past the Games and get on with my life, I'll never be able to forget what the Capitol has done to me. What the Capitol will continue to do to twenty four children each year. I find one of the secret entrances Cato's dad told us about and proceed to hurl rocks at it. I chuck them at the security cameras by the door with all the energy I can muster. The security cameras shatter, but the Command Room stays unchanged, impervious to my anger.

Try as I might, the Capitol is here to stay.

.

I'm a little riled up after that, so I keep walking through the mountain range. My feet absentmindedly lead themselves, and I end up at the gorge I used to visit after training. It's got wicked acoustics, and I liked to throw rocks and watch them bounce down into nothingness. Once Cato followed me there, and we started going together. And eventually, I stopped minding that we shared my secret hiding spot.

Nevertheless, I still think of it as my secret hide out, so I stop short when I see someone already sitting there.

It's Cato, flinging rocks down the gorge. He looks angry, probably at me, so I don't get any closer lest he hears my footsteps. I just stand there watching him for longer than what is probably considered normal.

Almost hesitantly, I raise up my camera and take a picture of him at my gorge. It's creepy, taking pictures at a distance, but he matters to me too.

.

The next day at Training class, I'm in a remarkably good mood and knowing that it has nothing to do with Capitol pills makes me even happier. The kids catch on and figure they can get away with more than usual. At first I let them swing at each other, but after a while the sound of children screaming is too much for me to handle.

"Alright! That's enough." I growl. "Get to your respective targets. Start at the five foot mark, and then move back if you're up for the challenge."

I eye some of the stronger boys who simply launch the blade into the target. "And I want to see proper form," I threaten. Although knife throwing is a useful survival skill, there's also a beauty and grace to it. Elegant in its simplicity.

Caught up in my own thoughts, I wipe the dreamy smile from my face when I see a few kids eyeing me worriedly. I snarl at them and order them to get back to practicing.

I really like knives, okay? It's one of the things that resulted from my training that I won't give up. My surly disposition is waning, and my icy heart is thawing, but I'm keeping my blades.

I circle the room, critiquing some of those with shit technique, and giving approving nods to the ones who have mastered the flick of the wrist. No one's really at my level of prodigy, but what can you do?

I stop at Cole, a sturdy ten-year old. He's doing pretty well with the knives, but his heart isn't really into it. Knives are the first sharp objects the Academy gives the children, so usually the trainees handle them with excitement and glee. I wish I could teach them to treat violence grudgingly, but it's a hard lesson to learn, and I'm not quite ready to share my own feelings.

Cole handles the blades carefully, but almost like it ails him to touch them. "What's wrong?" I squat down so we're at eye level.

He squints at the blade. "What's the point?"

I cock my head. "The point is to get better at throwing knives. Obviously."

"No, I mean, the point in training. You and Cato trained your entire lives, and you still ran into problems in the arena. What are we doing wrong? Career districts should sweep the Games."

I purse my lips, memories tearing through my mind. Before I went into the arena, I thought it would be a piece of cake. But surviving was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Other than living with the consequences.

I clear my troubled mind with a start. He's expecting an answer. "They expect us to be the best- the most vicious. No matter how good we are, they expect it out of us. That's why Katniss got so far- she took them by surprise."

"Who?" I forget sometimes that not everyone has memorized every single one of those names.

"The District 12 girl." To everybody else, she's just a number.

"I don't want to be like that when I got into the arena. I want to be remembered- even if I die."

His ignorant bliss is so precious, I shouldn't smash it. But my mean streak wins out, and I say harshly. "You're only remembered if you win."

"That's not true. You can be different."

God, this kid is so precocious it hurts. I want to smack some sense into him, but there's always a big fuss when I hit the trainees. "Any tribute from Two is going to be the same. Bloodthirsty and ruthless."

"I wish there was a way to show them that we're more than that."

"Don't we all?" I sigh as I stand back up. "You're too smart for your own good, you know that?" I tousle his hair rather violently. "Now get back to training. Your stance needs work."

.

Not long after my chat with Cole, I dismiss the class. They all trail out the door, moaning about sore arm muscles while I trail behind them to lock up. I wave them off with a condescending smirk- little pansies, all of them.

My smugness drains when I see Cato leave the weapons room, no doubt after donating some of his weapons. Things are still unresolved- but my nighttime stroll has cleared up a lot of my doubts.

"Cato!" I call out as I rush towards him. "I wanna talk."

His eyes immediately dull. "Fine." he sighs. "I promise not to molest you this time." His sarcasm isn't appreciated, so I punch him in the arm.

"Well, asshole, I wanted to apologize for blaming you… for… um what happened. You're right. I… uh...kissed you first."

He has this damn condescending grimace on. He is loving every minute of this. "And?" He prompts.

I scrunch my eyebrows. "And what?"

He sighs, bored at my apparent stupidity. "And why did you decide to attack me?"

I flush. "I didn't attack you." I grind out, fists clenched.

"Yes, yes you did. And I want to know why, so I can be prepared for your next pissy mood swing."

I clench my jaw. "My… pissy… mood swings," I repeat slowly.

"Yup," he responds, popping the 'p' obnoxiously. "And I realized you're a hypocrite. You always yell at me for confusing you, but truth is, you're much, much worse."

How can he even think that? I furiously cross my arms. Right when I've decided to flick him in the eye, an eighteen-year old floozy launches herself at Cato. "Cato!" she squeals. "I heard that you were here!" She starts to babble about how much she was rooting for him to win without even sparing me a glance.

My mouth hangs open at her insolence. And when it's obvious that she's not going to stop anytime soon, I clear my throat. "Cato. I'll be waiting over there," I nod my head over to the Training Academy's entrance.

He nods absentmindedly. I fully expect him to wrap up the conversation, but he lets her keep talking and even starts furthering the dialogue. What a bastard.

I growl, jaw clenched. With my arms crossed tightly across my chest, I catch Cato's eye. He fucking smirks at me. He knows he's making me wait. I struggle to ignore the urge to go wring his neck because I know that's what he wants. I'd be playing right into his hands.

I tap my foot impatiently. God, does he have to flirt with her right in front of me? I wait what feels like an eternity, then just give up and stomp away, my scowling face effectively clearing me a path all the way to the Victor's Village

.

Cato's about to knock on my front door until a knife whizzes by and skims the shell of his ear. He jumps back and flicks his head around looking for me.

"What the fuck Clove?"

He still doesn't see me, and it's with great satisfaction I step out of the shadows. I silently tread behind him, stretch on my tiptoes so that my mouth just barely grazes against his ear.

"Is this what you would call a pissy mood swing?" I whisper harshly, then step back as he whips around to face me.

"Are you fucking crazy? That could have hit me!"

I snort. "I wasn't trying to hit you, and I never miss. I thought about it though, believe me."

He raises his eyebrows. "Calm down, Princess. What's wrong?"

Genuinely taken by surprise how dense Cato can be, I sputter. "What- what do you mean what's wrong? You completely ignored me back there even though we were in the middle of a conversation. And then you just let me wait for you like half an hour!"

He struggles to bite back a smirk. "It was actually only four minutes."

I stop, not quite sure what that means. "…Well still…"

Slowly but surely, Cato's shit-eating grin makes its appearance. "Jealous, Princess?"

I ignore his accusation and instead growl out, "I should kill you." I maneuver past him toward my front door and unlock the door.

"But you won't, will you?" he smirks cheekily.

Trying to keep my face emotionless, I don't answer. Instead, I step inside, and slam the door in his face.

But that would be too easy. Cato quickly sticks his hand out and stops the door from shutting. Fighting my attempts to close the door, he grips the door so tightly that the wood splinters under his grip. "Aren't you going to invite me in, Princess?"

I struggle to push the door shut. "No, actually I wasn't."

Too late, he's already pushed through and strode into my hallway. Fuck.

"I hate you, you know that?" he asks, staring out my kitchen window.

I stand gape-mouthed, door still open, hand still on the knob; stunned that Cato would even try to come into my house without my permission.

He turns to face me, dangerous blue eyes flashing. "You don't even know what you do to me- that you have this control over me. And I'm fucking sick of it. Of acting like a pussy so you know how I feel. Of you ignoring me, because you know I'll always be right where you left me." He continues, but I stop listening.

Because this whole time he's been yelling at me, I can't help but smile. Because with the old Cato back, with him being brutally honest with me, I can see clearly again. Sure, he's being a pain in the ass, but I finally understand that I wouldn't have him any other way. I finally realize that somewhere along the way, I've fallen for Cato.

I don't just care about Cato, I'm well on my way to loving him. I think I've known all along.

He's in his own world now, so he doesn't notice that I've slowly crossed the room to stand right in front of him.

For the second time in twenty four hours, I take the plunge and kiss Cato right on the lips.

.

Cato is successfully distracted for a few seconds, but then pulls back. His expression is suspicious. "What now, Clove?"

It hurts a little that he's so guarded around me. But I deserve it. I look down at my shoes, wondering how to start. "I was jealous today."

I look up, hoping that he'll just spare me this humiliation. But for once, Cato waits patiently for me to continue. I mumble, "And you have control over me too."

"What?" Cato didn't even hear me. Dammit, I have to repeat myself. Still avoiding his eyes, I grit my teeth.

I swallow thickly. "I want to give us a chance, okay?"

"What?"

Kill me now. "I want to be with you, goddammit!" Frustrated, I lift my eyes to meet Cato's. He's grinning like an idiot. "…You heard me the first time, didn't you?"

His back is curved so that our faces are practically touching. "Damn right I did Clo." This time, we both lean in, and our lips meet in the middle.

I smile into his lips that fit perfectly against mine and put my arms around his neck. Our bodies in sync, he lifts me up with an arm around my waist as I simultaneously wrap my legs around his waist. He pushes me up against the wall, and I sigh at the forceful impact. After a few blissful, carefree seconds though, he pulls away. I pout, and try to catch his lips again by tightening my arms around his neck. He laughs, but leans away so I can't get to him.

He looks at me with crafty eyes, knowing that he has the upper hand. "And who was right all along?" He mockingly taps his bottom lip with his finger.

I stare at the motion, transfixed. He could probably get me to say anything right now. I admit, "You, Cato." I dead pan. "You were right all along, and I continue to bow down to your mightiness." I pause. "But seriously. I'm sorry for the way I've been acting."

He's satisfied, and rests his forehead against mine while we both catch our breath. Right when he is about to swoop in again, he remembers something else. "Let's be clear. This doesn't change anything alright? We're not going to be one of those lame-ass, phony couples that think they're perfect."

Still sandwiched between him and the wall, I snort. "We could never be perfect. We're both damaged. I'm a bitch and selfish and -"

"-and unhinged and impulsive and stubborn and cocky -" He jumps in, clearly been saving these for a while. "-and paranoid and abrasive and annoying and clueless as fuck sometimes. I know." Right when I'm about to punch him in the face, kiss be damned, he ends with, "But that doesn't matter to me."

Just like that, I'm back to wanting to kiss him again- and he claims I'm the one with all the control? "And you're a horny, arrogant, self-absorbed asshole with anger management problems." I smile prettily, "But I wouldn't have it any other way." When he opens his mouth to add something, I cut him off, "Now shut up and kiss me."

With nothing more really to say, he shrugs with that cocky little smirk of his and pushes me back up against the wall.

.

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