I've got the gift of one-liners...

"Very angry," she agreed, looking up at him with heavy breaths. "I don’t know what to do with you anymore. It’s like you want me mad." She stared at his lips, licking her own. She leaned in as close as she could to him, pressing her stomach against his and grabbed his cheeks gently. "I don’t know how I get so mad at a face like this." She let her hands droop around his shoulders, clasping her fingers behind his neck. "I could just break your neck, Brandon. Wouldn’t that make it easier for both of us?"

"Should I want to forget?" She asked him with a shrug. She liked being in his embrace the most out of everyone’s. "Why should I want to forget when you make me so happy?" A smile erupted on her face but then faded again.

"Jealous!" he whispered conspiratorially, unable to stop the corner of his mouth that turned up as he played with the hem of her shirt. "And vicious--yes, it seems I've made you very angry, my dear." He chuckled deeply and pulled her even closer, bending his neck forward to look down at her.

"No," she exhaled. "I can’t blame you. For anything really. Except making me love you and then making me hate you.” She laughed just a little bit, but stopped herself because she didn’t want to seem weak. She reached out and touched his hand, playing with his fingers without an afterthought. “I just came here tonight because I really miss you. And I don’t know how to forget about you.” The words were just flowing from her thoughts to her tongue, almost exactly how she had imagined them in her head. This wasn’t how she envisioned this moment in her head. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, but she didn’t know what else to yell at him about.

Instinctively, Brandon put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. He looked down at her and bit his lip. "Allie," he finally said, "you don't even want to forget--do you?"

"Um, no," he said. "It doesn't just 'happen'. I mean, not like that. But moving on would probably be your best bet; there's nothing you can do about it now, anyway."

"I wouldn’t flirt with other guys if you would just pay attention to me for once! All I wanted was your attention! Why do I have to wait around for it? I was supposed to be your girlfriend! Don’t girlfriends get special attention? Don’t you spend more time with your girlfriend than you do doing anything else?" She didn’t like him shouting at her, and pointing out all the things she did wrong. "I don’t want to point fingers, Brandon," she said quietly, walking towards him. 

Allie had caught him there; the truth was, Brandon wasn't the kind of person who committed to anyone, or anything for that matter. Still, he knew she was right, so he didn't back away from her when she walked towards him. "Okay, fine; that's fair. But that doesn't mean that you have to point fingers all the time," he said. He stopped raising his voice when she did, and bit his lip. "Even if you don't want to, you still always do; can you really blame me for getting tired of it, too?" He sighed heavily, ran a hand through his hair, and unconsciously started walking towards her as well.

Brandon silently raised an eyebrow. "What the hell? And I thought my parents were shitty."

"It is too your problem! Brandon, don’t act like this towards me, okay? I’ve been through a lot of shit - you put me through a lot of shit - and I’m just tired. I broke up with you because you never show me that you care."

"Really Allie? Right, I forgot, it's always my fault. I never showed you I cared, I didn't do this, I didn't do that! You're not some fucking angel, you know! Allie the victim, Allie the saint! As if you didn't constantly flirt with other guys throughout our entire relationship. You think I'm not tired of you constantly making me the villain? Well, I am--and I sure as hell didn't need it, and that's why it's not my problem!"

Well, you're right--I don't really care. But, you should still get over whatever, or whoever, you did years ago if you can't even change that. What do you even expect?

"I don’t know," she looked at him, her bottom lip pouting. "It’s not like you cared when I broke up with you. You just let me leave. You drive me insane too, Brandon. You’re - you’re so rude!”

"If you did it just for my reaction, sweetheart, it's your own fault for expecting something from me! You signed up for this--so yes, I may be rude in your opinion, but your opinion is not my problem anymore! You can thank yourself for that, my dear."

Alright then, no--wait. Holy shit.

Well, no. I mean, not technically; does it count if someone's called me a prostitute?