I love playing coy. I love acting like I don't know what I'm doing to you by wearing the cute little outfits that drive you crazy. Looking at you with big eyes and a soft, innocent smile while I just keep brushing against you, bending over, tapping my pen against my lips. I want you to really wonder if I honestly have no clue how I look. How it's making you feel. I want you to try so hard to be nice. To be patient. To be the good person you claim to be. I want to find out what will finally make you break.
And when you do, I want you to feel so guilty, so shameful, so angry that you let me get to you that you take it all out on me.
