Hit Me
"Why the fuck were you always touching my friends?! Why the fuck were you with them anyway? Didn't I tell you to stop touching them?!" You vented, clearly drunk as fuck.
"Your friend was sad, I was trying to comfort hi-" You cut off my explanation.
"Don't fucking lie, I know you!"
Do you, though?
"Then, hit me." I glared straight into your eyes.
You gave me a left punch, to which I flinched, followed by a right. A kick came next, by which I was knocked over. Then you stood tall, despite being an entire foot shorter than me.
"Are you done?" I coughed, and tried to get my ass off the ground outside Clarke Quay MRT station at 4am in the morning.
"Now you hit me," you seethed.
"In any way I want? As hard or as soft as I want?" I grinned playfully to myself.
"Yes."
Getting up, I stumbled towards you, never breaking eye contact. You closed your eyes, bracing for impact.
Then, I kissed you.
I kissed you slowly for a few seconds. You recovered from the shock in the middle and tried to pull away, but I got you pinned to the pillar. Feeling satisfied that I shut you up, I held you by your waist and moved my lips under your left ear.
"If you think I have the time to even think about others the same way I feel about you, then you're a fucking dumbass," I started.
Your blood started to boil again; you always had the habit of reacting violently to an insult.
"Shh, baby, let me finish," I nibbled your earlobe, and when I felt you relaxing, I continued. "Why would I even bother thinking about them when this entire time I've been waiting for your eyes and heart to meet mine? No matter how many times you punch or kick me, how many times you let your insults loose, I'm not going to change the way I feel about you. To be honest, I kind of like this side of you. It's weird, I know. I don't give a fuck about others when the girl I need is right in front of me. I want only you. I need only you. I don't give a fuck about the rest of the world. And if loving you means getting hit...well then, I volunteer as tribute."
Scared to hear your response, I swiftly stepped away from you, my hands behind my back, closed my eyes and braced for impact.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You asked in confusion.
"Hit me."
"Why?"
"One of my golden rules is that I should never touch a girl without permission, and if I ever do, which I just did, then the girl in question must hit me, as punishment."
"...you're weird."
"Just fucking get to it, my guilt is already killing me enough."
"Fine."
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Then, you kissed me.
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