A/N: I just decided to write this, and I need everyone's advice! Should I make this short little fic into a full-fledged story or just let this stand on its own? HELP! Anyhoo, here's the story: 1 more note: does anyone know where to buy that black colored weezer tee that has the muppets and the whole band on it? I NEED THAT SHIRT!


The door to the enormous classroom slammed shut. So forceful was the slam, that it seemed to vibrate all over the place, including the girl perched on the desk. The vibration seemed to linger especially inside the girl, making her shiver ever so slightly. She figured that the church that was below this floor received equal shock as she did. She didn't need to turn around to know that it was him. Her mind prepared itself for yet another brutal shouting match against her longtime rival archenemy. They competed in everything since elementary school, always trying to be the best. It traveled through junior high, high school, and now, college.

But why is he the one slamming the door? She thought angrily. I should be slamming the door on him! After what that bastard did to me. She looked back at what happened, but before she could even begin to sort out the gory details, loud, sardonic applause filled the room as he slowly made his way around the collection of desks. She looked at the distorted figures that his shadows cast in the fading light.

His low laughter filled her ears as he touched her shoulders, making her jump off the desk in anger. He chuckled menacingly, contempt radiating from his seemingly evil form-well, at moment at least. She glared back, facing him and clenched her fists, anger pulsating all over her body.

"I am assuming you are going to kill me?" he asked, looking as if that was just what he wanted. She didn't know whether to laugh at his gleeful expression or slap his face. Instead, memories of what previously happened sent her a new wave of fury.

About two hours ago, she was having the time of her life with her crush, Eric. She was eyeing him a little over a year and finally got the courage to ask him out for dinner. To her complete joy, he said yes quite readily. He really was wonderful, keeping the conversation running smoothly without any pauses. She hardly touched her dinner; she was so wrapped up in their conversation, though a nagging thought constantly reminded her how uncomfortable his presence made her. He was trying to make some moves on her, and she wasn't sure about his reputation, either. But no matter, what mattered was the present, not his past.

Suddenly, as they were finishing up a dark shadow blocked out the glow of the candle. She felt his arrogant presence without even looking up. She looked coolly into his face, trying to cover her shock, trying not to notice for the first time at how well that shirt on the person subtly showed off the muscles in his chest and arms. Eric glared at him, putting a protective hand on top of hers.

Smoothly, the dark figure said, "I am sorry to interrupt this dinner, but I must take my girlfriend home. I suggest you keep her hands off her in the future unless you want to mess with me, Eric."

Eric suddenly let go of her hand and glared at her. He threw his cloth napkin aside, and pulled out his wallet. She sputtered incoherent protests at him, but Eric ignored her, throwing out several twenty-dollar bills onto the table.

"There's no need to pay for tip, my dear," Eric growled maliciously. "Next you go out with someone, you better make your priorities straight. Don't think you can use me to cheat on him," he spat, pointing at the dark figure.

"Eric! I am not his girlfriend! I swear! Wait, Eric!" She stood up, throwing her napkin onto her unfinished dinner and glared at this-this demon. How dare he! Sure, they constantly tried to make each other's lives a living hell, but this was going too far, she screamed at him in the restaurant, making everyone stare at her. She screamed at him some more, and he silently dragged her snarling at him out of the restaurant, giving a cheerful wave at the frightened maitre de, which infuriated her even more.

He yanked open the passenger seat with one hand, the other simultaneously shoving her in. He endured twenty minutes of ear-piercing, never-ending shrieks about how he went on an all-time low, what the hell was his problem, she already had enough people monitoring who she was dating, and she didn't need him, the last person on her mind, butting in with her love life. He endured all of this in stony silence, and instead, pulled up in front of their old, childhood church.

She only shut her mouth when they entered the chapel for mass, but she stormed out in the middle, unable to obtain mental peace. He stayed until it ended, and trudged up the stairs to the Sunday school classrooms and started to search for her. Luckily, she had regained her cool when he found her. Or so he thought.

After a couple of minutes reminiscing the horrible situation, she was transported back in the present. He was subtly admiring the way that her black shirt hugged her torso, the way it was cut temptingly in the front. Her tight matching black pants accented her long, trim legs, while her hair was let loose and straight. He was thankful that she never thought of yanking off her slightly heeled shoes and whacking him in the face. That would really hurt. He felt her burning eyes in his face and looked up quickly. He eyed her questioningly, one black eyebrow arched. She hissed and blew up like a volcano once again.

"THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD IT WITH YOU!" She screamed, and he flinched for only an instant but regained his cool nonchalance, which fueled her anger, flooding her face with a distinct shade of pink.

She walked around him, yelling, "You had absolutely no right to bust in on my date with Eric! How you even found out about this, I don't know. But why you pretended to be my boyfriend and take me away from my crush for about a the fact that I finally managed to have the courage to go up to him and go out together! The last thing I expected was for you to ruin it! I actually had a great time with him! I don't know your intentions for this, but I am not forgiving you!"

The whole time she was venting out her rage, he sat on the desk, his back rigid. He didn't look at her, just straight ahead. After she finished her rant, she threw herself onto the desk next to him, feeling exhausted and utterly drained, not triumphant and satisfied. He deserved this, right? She suddenly felt sorry for him for no apparent reason and wanted to stroke his handsome face. Handsome? Bah! What is wrong with me? Ignoring these thoughts, she intensely focused her attention on the dusty chalkboard that faced her, surreptitiously looking at him with the corner of her eye.

His jet-black hair glinted off the dying rays of the sun that filtered in through the windows that surrounded the classroom. He sighed, adjusted his black-framed glasses once, his dark eyes unreadable. He seemed to notice that she was watching him and took his time, thinking of how he would approach this. True, he shouldn't have come in so abruptly on them, but he knew that guy's reputation, and it wasn't good. But, he didn't want to go telling her now of all times that he, eh, fancied her. She would blow another gasket on that one. He let out a deep sigh. Girls. He thought. Shouldn't have acted so cool. Maybe if I shut her up with a that wouldn't work. She'd probably claw my eyes out as a reward for my stupidity. He instantly regretted for coming in on the dinner previously, but he had to. He didn't want her getting into something as deep of a life- damaging mistake as this.

"First of all, I didn't know you two were eating together. I only saw you later on," he said quietly, turning around so that he would face her. She opened her mouth furiously, but he beat her to it.

"And, I believe that you should have some basic background on Eric. He seems like a nice guy right? Well, he was my best friend until I found out some things about him two years ago."

She looked at him, as if to say, go on. He did, hesitantly, hopping off the desk. He paced around her as he continued.

"He had sex with three girls and he was arrested three times for drunk driving and one other time for possession of marijuana. I stopped being his friend when I found out that first bit, I found out the others from his mom. He's on parole, but I doubt it will last without any problems. I had to get away because he's like poisoned honey. Sure, he seems easygoing, smart, funny, appealing to the eye, but on the inside, he's extremely violent and dangerously possessive. I had to sever my connections with him, he was ruining me."

She sat there with her mouth agape. She expected him to say something like, "Fooled you!" but he was dead serious. Now she seriously regretted yelling at him. But Eric was the last person she expected to be like that. On the other hand, she recalled the other times that she would see Eric at church; he did look dark and intimidating, not at all sunny, like at the university. She had just made the worst mistake that she could in her entire life. She looked up at him speechless in shock and he understood her trying to apologize.

He stood in front of her now, looking at her sadly. But wait a tugged at her mind. They've hated each other for at least 10 years, why did he tell her this instead of laughing at her downfalls like he used to?

She could count all those times when he laughed and made fun of her, from the first time they met when they were about ten-he guffawed at her and called her a scrawny crow; to just yesterday, when he jeered at her grade from the poor medical examination she conducted that morning. Her inquisitive, irritated side kicked in, but for only a second.

"But why did you do this? I mean, I sincerely thank you now, and I hope you can forgive-" She looked down when she saw that his tense face suddenly changed to almost a state of gentleness, her black hair shielded her burning face as she continued her sentence, suddenly vulnerable. "-me for losing my head at you like that."

"That's all right." He wanted to run his hands through her shiny black hair, but he stopped right above her face.

She looked up at him and frowned at his hands, which were right above her head. He quickly put them at his sides, and she continued as she edged off the desk.

"I really do forgive you," He said slowly, meaning every word.

But she still didn't think that her meager apology was enough.

"I really am sorry, but." She looked up at him and his deep look penetrated her. He edged closer and gently helped her up until they were barely an inch apart. She wanted to run. Why was she feeling hot all of a sudden?

He realized he was holding onto her elbows and quickly let them go, as if they burnt his hands. She felt as if she was dunked into a vat of boiling oil every time he touched her bare skin. And now he was only an inch or two away. She looked away; suddenly feeling revealed at the way he delicately touched her. A part of her wanted him to caress her even more, but very tiny part of her was disgusted at the way she wanted him.

He took off his glasses and wiped them on the edge of his black, button up shirt. He pocketed them in his matching pants and ran a careless hand through his hair. He surreptitiously eyed her, at loss for words. He wanted didn't know what he wanted. He never felt this way before. Regaining his composure, he managed to find his voice.

"But.?" He asked hoarsely.

"But why?"

"I thought it was about time we started to get along. We're already in college. Don't you agree we should act our age for once?" She looked at him, her large almond-shaped brown eyes lowered in suspicion.

He leaned in just a little more, just a little more, until his furiously beating heart could meet her heart. The heat radiated off both of them, a warm tickling sensation that made them both giddy. He put his hands on her waist and slowly traveled up her arms, placing his hands on her shoulders. She shivered and he hugged her closer, trailing his fingers down her spine.

Her hands were against his chest, but they weren't thankfully pushing him away. He wondered vaguely if she finally got his message of his feelings for her, but her soft face was burrowed against his neck. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. But he didn't say anything, nor did she. They stood there, as silence blanketed them.

Time resumed its pace once again when she looked up at him and smiled shyly, which shocked him. She never was shy with him, not in their daily shouting matches or any other time.

"This is so unlike you," she whispered, blushing, a definite first. He was breathing shallowly, she noticed. His warm hand left her back, and holding her wrist, put it over his pounding heart.

Smiling slyly, he leaned down to lips and whispered back ardently, "This is so unlike me, isn't it?"

And with that, he leaned forward and gently brushed his burning, partially opened lips against her full, soft ones. It was like sending an electric bolt into their systems. Now she was even more shocked at her own feelings for him. It came flooding out in torrents. She tried to get away, but she was trapped between a desk lips.

"It's okay," He said huskily as he broke off the kiss, panting slightly. It took an effort to lick his lips; his knees were so weak. He couldn't believe that a simple brushing of lips could produce such an incredible feeling of want.

He moved downwards, kissing her frantic pulse at the hollow of her neck, sucking it slightly. He blew air onto it, and replaced his hungry lips gently, tasting the sweetness of her skin. He held her transfixed, almost in a trance, and she swallowed nervously. He smiled at craned his head at the base of her long, graceful neck, licking it with the tip of his tongue.

She was touched at the way he kissed her; she almost wanted to cry at his tenderness. She slid both of her arms down and caressed his upper arms with feather-light touches, tingling his body.

He moved upward, kissing both of her closed eyelids. He moved onto her smooth cheek, and then traveled down to her lips. He traced the outline of her lips with the tip of his tongue, tantalizing her. He brushed a hand across her chest and brought it up again to stroke her hair. She trembled and looked down. He leaned in and murmured millimeters away from her lips, "I want you."

Those last words both panicked and excited her, doing further damage to the beating of her heart. She really had to get away from him, her mind screamed. And she tried to feebly push him away again. But he stopped her by holding lightly onto her hands. Evidently "mind over matter" didn't work.

He gently settled his arms around her back and admired her beauty. The blush that filled out the hollow in her defined cheeks, how just a passionate caress with his hot lips instantly made her slightly parted, luscious lips swollen to a shade darker. She looked back up, and saw the unmistakable look of longing in his beautiful black eyes. His face mirrored her overwhelming desire. He smiled seductively.

He leaned in closer and closer.

Response to review: Hey, Ayameko AiKage! Made some minor -heh. Kept the boy/girl pov cuz I look at it like a movie sometimes. Prefer keeping it shifty, it keeps the story going. Erased "unspoken messages".thanx a whole bunch for your wonderful help! I might add a tentative chapter to this; would greatly appreciate your future comments-they really are helpful. Look 4ward for more helpful constructive (read: not destructive) criticism from others!


(a/n: wheezin' is this original composition that rivers cuomo of weezer-the greatest band in my opinion-originally composed himself. He really is a genius. Never heard of weezer? LISTEN TO THEM! Listen to them in order, start with the blue album first. Those of you who love weezer, I love you too! Those of you who don' your back :p : =w= and also: IT'S NOT EASY BEING WHEEZ.)