Snippets [boyxboy and girlxgirl shorts]

I Don't Need You

Rating: L for Lots O' Cursing!!!!

Pairing: two girls

Based off of: Don't know I was just angry

Other notes: Don't cheat, lads

~~~~~~~~~~

I had to step on my tiptoes to see through the peephole, but I only had to look for half a second to know that it was her. Her long black hair was unmistakable, and if that wasn't enough of a dead giveaway, she was wearing her favorite suit with the purple tie I bought her for Christmas.

I debated not opening the door at all. I had approached quietly, so she probably didn't even know I was home. I could just stand silently and wait for her to walk away.

That's when she rang the doorbell a second time. I jumped, letting out a yelp. She definitely heard it. I mean, she was standing right by the door.

She knew I was home. I couldn't avoid answering the door anymore; that would just make me an asshole.

So I opened the door. Slowly. Carefully. I had to look up to meet her eyes. She looked a bit distressed. A strand of hair was in her face. I took her in, noticing the bouquet of flowers clutched in her left hand. Roses. How romantic.

She cleared her throat. "Uh... Anya, I'm really—"

I didn't give her a chance to finish that thought. "Get out. You shouldn't be here."

She looked taken aback. I guess she had expected me to miss her. And I did. But I was too strong to have my resolve broken by Wendy standing on my doorstep in a tux.

"An, please, can I at least have a chance to—"

"Absolutely not. You broke my fucking heart. Fuck off."

"But Anya, I'm trying to tell you, that night I—"

"Stop! I don't care! It's too late for that! You can't get out of jail free this time. It's not that easy."

"At least try to see my perspective, Anya, please."

I was getting fed up. I regained my composure, slowly straightening my posture and running a hand through my now messy mop of bright red hair. "Wendy." I began. "You don't seem to understand, so I'm going to make this very clear to you, just in case you don't remember. You showed up to my apartment drunk at four in the morning and refused to tell me where you'd been. And you had an inexplicable hickey on your neck. And two on your hips. But wait, it gets better, Wendy! It was a week before my birthday."

She had a pained expression on her face. "I know. I know, Anya, I fucked up so bad. But you're the best thing that's ever—I mean, I—" She cleared her throat. And pushed the flowers towards me. "Happy birthday. I'm really sorry. I understand if you can't forgive me."

I stood with my hands on my hips, hoping I looked unamused enough. Finally, I snatched the flower from her hands. "Thanks. Get out. Now. And don't come back."

I tried to close the door on her, but she slammed her hand against the doorframe, preventing me from closing it. "Yes?" I asked, unamused.

"I'm sorry, but are you serious? What more do you want from me?" I raised an eyebrow at her. Her eyes went wide. "Oh my God. I didn't mean it like that. It wasn't supposed to sound like that. What I meant was... Is there anything I can do to fix this? We've been together so long that I don't even know if I know how to live without you, I—I was stupid, the mistake I made was stupid, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I just don't want you to hate me forever, I—"

And at last, I blew up. "Shut up! You hurt me! Fuck you!" And, much to my dismay, I burst into tears. Which made me feel weak. So I started crying harder. And I tried to compensate with words. "I-I don't fucking n-need you!... I-I never have, g-get out of h-here, fuck you, I don't NEED you!" I brought my hands to my eyes, rubbing furiously, and said it one more time for good luck. "I don't need you, Wendy."

She stood awkwardly, not knowing if it would cross a boundary to comfort me. She shifted a bit. And for once, she said the right thing. "I know you don't need me. You've never needed me. But... I'm here if you want me."

My sobbing intensified, and I hugged her. She stood awkwardly still, still not knowing if she should hug me back. "I hate you... I fucking hate you..." I mumbled into her.

"I know." She gently wrapped her hands around me, rubbing soft circles into my back.

"If this ever happens again, I'm going to fucking kill you."

"It's not going to happen again. I swear. You deserve better."

"You're damn right I do." I mumbled.

We stood like that for what seemed like forever, her holding me, me crying, until I forgot what I was crying about, and all I wanted to do was watch TV with my girlfriend.