Quiet Hate

Collision

Leaving my drink at the counter, I go to the door, opening it to find König.

He steps inside without an invitation, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Excuse you," I say, but he doesn't pay it any mind. He pulls off his hood, face bared to me once again. He backs me against the counter.

"Why do you show me your face?" I ask, genuinely curious despite the tension of the moment.

"Because I trust you," he says, arms next to me yet again. "And I like to feel your skin on mine."

I take in a strangled breath at his honesty. "Why are you here?" I say, continuing my line of questioning.

"You know why," he says, towering over me. "Stop the act."

"No," I say, glaring up at him.

"Yes," he says, leaning down a bit more.

"No," I say.

"Yes," he says, reaching up to the necklace. "Why are you wearing this?"

"Because I needed an accessory," I say, lying.

"Sure," he says. "Drop the act."

"No," I say again. "I could do this all day, you know."

"What else could you do all day?" he asks, his face even closer now, his fingers still on my neck.

"I could cuss you out all day," I say, even as his lips move closer to my neck. "I could argue with you all day."

"Yeah?" he asks, and the singular word is so hot that I flush red again.

"I love how pink you get," he says. "I love that it happens when I fluster you."

"Yeah, because you're annoying," I say, feeling his breath on my skin.

"Stop the act," he says, and I feel his lips barely brush against my neck, he's so close.

"No," I say.

He closes the remaining distance, pressing a kiss to my skin, his hand ever so slightly on the necklace.

"König," I say, a warning.

"What?" he asks, pulling away. "Drop the act."

He's right in front of me now. His lips are an inch from mine.

"Tell me you don't want this," he says, a whisper. "Tell me it's not an act."

"I..." I say, but I've run out of lies to tell.

"Say that you hate me, and I'll walk away," König says, but I doubt that he will.

"I have to hate you," I say.

"But you don't," he says.

I look at his eyes, then his lips. I feel like a rubber band, so tightly wound it's only a matter of time before I break.

"Mein Lieblings," he whispers.

"I took German in college," I say against his mouth, as he leans ever-so-closer.

"Smart girl," he says. "Are you going to drop the act?"

I look into his eyes, then.

I remember how he reached for me in his exhaustion. I remember how he took off his hood for me, how he pressed into me. I remember how I felt... relieved, when he walked into the laundry room. I remember how he held me as we danced. I think about how he challenges me, how he watches me, how he ignites every nerve in my body like none other.

My resolve, in that moment, deteriorates.

Reaching up around his neck, I press my lips to his.

König immediately grips onto my waist, yanking me closer while simultaneously pushing me into the counter.