I Hate Your Guts. Kiss Me - Katya X Reader

Chapter Five

So he sat, perched on the edge of the couch, like he was prepared to flee if you attacked. And, based on how angry you were right now, his nervous posture was not totally unfounded. You refused to sit, opting instead to pace on the other side of the coffee table.

"[Y/N], look... I..." He was at a loss for words. His phone buzzed in his hand, so he checked it, much to your insult. He read whatever was on the screen before his eyes flicked up to you, brows tight together. "I made you cry?"

"Huh?"

"Trixie said..." Oh for fuck's sake.

"I'm hungover, can you just get this over with and get out of my house?"

He inched forward, somehow, eyes trailing you. "I made you cry?" he asked again.

You were going to kill Trixie. Throwing your hands up, you shrugged. "And what? Now you think I'm too emotional because I'm a woman? You're a fuckin' class act, eh, McCook."

"I didn't want to make you cry."

You stopped abruptly, now facing him dead on. "No. You just wanted to shit all over my life's work. You wanted to make me look small because you've got some bug up your ass about me." His eyes dropped. "What the fuck is up with that, then?"

He said nothing, and the silence was pitching your anger from a light simmer into a rolling boil. "Look at me. Look at me and tell me to my face that you think you're better than me. Tell me here and now that you think I am less than, and you tell me why. No bullshit, not pussyfooting around. I want the honest to God truth from you, for fucking once."

His eyes met yours. "I don't think I'm better than you."

"Oh fuck you. How fucking patronising. Like, my god, you are such a dick. Y'know, I was just stupid enough to start thinking we were finally friends again. But of course not."

"I want to be."

You laughed. You actually, whole heartedly, belly laughed. "You are a real shit friend, then, man."

He said nothing, so you resumed your pacing, nose bridge pinched again. It occurred to you suddenly the mess you must have looked; bed hair, smudged dark eyeliner still ringing your eyes, an oversized, very faded Metallica shirt on,  and black boyshorts underwear. Whatever, you were too pissed off to care.

"I know I am," he whispered. Oh, no. He wasn't going to get you to feel bad for him.

"So, why did you come here? Just to sit there, feeling sorry for yourself?" He shook his head.

"I came to apologise. Those things I said were so out of line, and just not true." You waited for more. He could do all the damn leg work himself. "I've been feeling some type of way about myself, I guess, really confused, and it was easier to just take it out on you."

"But why? What did I even do to you?"

"Nothing, that's just it, I-."

"So, then what?" Your voice was pitching louder. He was skirting the issue and refusing to elaborate and it was pissing you right the fuck off.

"I am sorry I hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me, Katya, you just pissed me off. You knew exactly what to say to piss me off but you did it anyway. I thought we were friends." He stood, showing both palms for mercy.

"I did. I did, and I'm sorry."

He was just expecting to say sorry and you would let it go, but you absolutely refused. You stormed past him, to the door, opening for him. "Just go. Frankly, I don't want you here."