oc preferences ( #1 ) [ COMPLETE ]

mad ~ mika

she's starin' at me, i'm sittin' wonderin' what she's thinkin'

mika stared at corbyn as he walked in, three am. it was always three am when he arrived in her bedroom, and everytime, mika was stressed out.

not this time, however, she was putting her hair up and looking through the closet until he walked in, she stared at him for a moment, resisting the urge to scoff.

what's she thinking, corbyn questioned to himself, what the hell is she thinking about doing?

the question answered itself, corbyn saw the boxes, saw that she had put the hoodies she'd stolen from him back in the closet and knew. mika planned to get ready to leave if she had to.

nobody's talkin', 'cause talkin' just turns into screamin'

both of the people in that room knew better than to say anything about the boxes, or the fact that mika hadn't moved since he had arrived. they both stayed silent, mika staring at the blonde and corbyn studying the floor.

and now as i'm yellin' over her, she yellin' over me

"corbyn?" mika was the one to break the silence, she always was.

corbyn's head snapped up, immediately getting defensive. "what're the boxes for?" he questioned.

"they're for if i need to get out fast." mika said simply, sighing and looking at him. "i feel like you know that."

"why would you need to get out fast?" corbyn scoffed, standing.

mika took a step back, staring at him. "because i don't feel entirely safe around you when you come back at three am and get all hostile with me."

"I get hostile..with YOU? you're the one that starts yelling!" corbyn laughed bitterly, glaring at mika. he wasn't really mad, he just didn't want her to leave him. he couldn't handle her leaving him, and if he had to threaten her to make sure she stayed, then so be it.

"no, no i don't! you get defensive after i ask where you go!" mika sighed, running her hands through her hair.

"because you're just so fuckin' nosey! always up in my business, god, i can never get a break from you!" corbyn snapped, mika glaring at him.

"then don't fucking come home." mika huffed, turning back to the closet and snatching one of her dresses from the closet.

corbyn grabbed her shirt from one of the boxes, throwing it to the otherside of the room.

"what the fuck are you doing?!" mika yelled, glaring at him.

"what the fuck are YOU doing?" corbyn yelled back, getting closer to her.

all that means is neither of us are listening

their voices mixed together, neither knowing what the other was saying. all they knew is that they were both fuming, clothes on the floor and screams coming from both of the teens.

and what's even worse, that we don't even remember why we're fighting

mika was yelling at corbyn for god knows what now, probably for not locking the door after he left. they had already yelled at each other for every reasonable thing they could, and now they were screaming for petty reasons, just to get the other riled up. hell, they couldn't even remember what had inspired the argument in the first place, but both were too stubborn to stop it.