THE TRUE LIVES OF THE FABULOUS KILLJOYS : DANGEROUS DAYS.

Chapter Sixteen.

                          Chapter Sixteen - You, and the games that you play so well.

A sharp rap on the door brought her to her senses, a burn't down cigarette in one hand which she'd barely taken two drags on. She wiped her face quickly, and made a half-assed attempt at not making her voice as raspy as her throat.

"Yeah?"

"Holly, listen. Before you tell me to fuck off, I need to talk to you."

"Fine." She answered.

He opened the door slowly and stepped inside, closing it behind him. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't going to fucking cut it this time Mikey."

"I know that. I swear to god, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you I'll do it."

"Listen. I still love you. I just don't know wether I can trust you again. I'm going to give you the benifit of the doubt, and I'm going to forgive you." She said flatly, staring him in the eye.

"I know I've fucked up big time, I deserve everything I fucking get to be honest."

She swung her legs out and stood up. She took a step toward him. "No. No you don't. I just want the Mikey back from when we first met. I'm sorry too. I'm sorry for telling Gee, for slapping y-" Her apology swiftly being interupted by him, pressing his lips to hers. Dazed, she wrapped her arms round his shoulders, with difficulty her being the one to deepen the kiss. Wanting to resist, but wanting to go farther. Her hands moved on their own accord, grazing his body, knowing from pure experience his turn on's. He was doing the same, moving from her lips to gently kissing her neck, to leaving tiny bite marks all the way down to her collar bones. She returned the favor by gently massaging the skin where his hip bones stuck out. His eyes widened, letting a soft moan escape him. She smiled, letting her forehead rest against his chest. He worked his hands to her hips, and was running his fingers around the waistband of her jeans gently, before moving his hands, and slowly hitching her shirt up slightly, letting his fingers trace random little patterns on her skin. She gasped at the coldness of his fingers against her skin. The coldness making the hairs stand up on her neck. "If I end up with a fuckin' hickey. Consider yourself dead." she whispered in his ear, hearing the soft chuckle in response. And as usual, he was the one fumbling with the clasp on her jeans. She swatted his hands away.

"No. Not yet." she said, firmly. Gently pushing his shoulders away. "I'm letting this be another 'oh she's forgiven me, so let's just have sex' kind of thing. Not this time. It's not the time, and not the place."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I just got carried away and-" he said, heading for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" she said with a smile, pulling him back. "Go. Bed." she whisphered.

He smirked, and stood watching as she turned and laid down, pulling her knees up to her chest like she always did when she fell asleep. He then joined her, wraping his arms around her waist and slipping into unconiousness.