I walk far enough away from the mush hall, turning a corner before I begin questioning the 18 year old blonde. "Has anything changed since I last came to visit?"
He quickly looks at me, looking in front of us and thinking his answer through. "She has been extremely argumentative lately."
Hmmm. "What do you mean?"
"She starts arguments and most of them are, well, redundant."
"You tell her that?"
"I do and then she shoves me, but I restrain her."
"Okay," I draw out.
"She struggles against me and I pin her better, a little more forceful."
"Huh."
"Then she giggles at me, pushing against me and she starts riling me up."
"You give in to her demanding desires, don't you?"
"Well," he starts, rubbing the back of his neck as we turn the corner just before the mush hall, "yeah. She gets me going and by then she's ready to go, not leaving me the option of sayin no to her."
That's one hell of a confession, telling me who has more dominance in their relationship sexually at least and I roll my eyes. "I can't believe her. Have you ever shoved her or hit her?"
He winces at this. "I have shoved her and I swear it wasn't meant to hurt her, it was to give me time to leave the room. I shoved her onto the couch and stormed out on her." His hands are up in front of himself, calmly defending a possible attack.
I push his hands down to rest at his sides. "It's okay, she starts it and you admit it like you are, it's fine to defend yourself. I know how she can get."
He nods, his blues meeting my browns. "She's really gotten into this whole 'bite me, scratch me, pin me' thing and she pisses me off to get it the way she wants it."
"Rough."
"Extremely rough," he tells me, his eyes almost comically wide.
I chuckle at this because I had a notion that she might become aggresive somehow, but this way hadn't crossed my mind. They're head over heels when it comes to each other, inseperable at best and beyond content with being together. We look at each other and he laughs for a second, walking into the mush hall again together. "Bonding again, guys?" Pookie demands, an annoyed stance greeting us to match her sarcastic comment.
"Yeah," I fire back, playfully return her attitude. She stops when he envelops her, whispering something in her ear and her hand cups the side of his face. A smile graces her visage, her other hand falling onto his and her eyes revealing how love drunk she is when it comes to him.
"Nick," she coos, allowing her hips to sway with the movement of his body and his hands guide her.
"Cassie," he replies as softly as she had spoken his name. It's kind of sickening sometimes, but Justin and JC are naturally jealous of him and she's always on their brains. Justin writes letter after letter to her, never mailing them to her and JC jots down songs about her, JC claiming those songs could be about someone else. I know him far too well to fall for that, unable to believe that static. Justin on the other hand, he doesn't lie about it.
I pull the letters from Justin from my pocket and place them on the table beside her and Nick. "Read these," I request.
"What are they?" she inquires, picking up the nearly overflowing folder and shuffles through them how Johnny would papers concerning us which brings a smirk to my lips.
"Justin's letters to you."
"That he never sent," she states, having read my texts and e-mails concerning this matter.
"Just check 'em out."
I got to Dallas late last night and I'm being woken up by Justin, violently being shaken while he screams. "Chris, where are the letters for Cass?"
I groan and roll over, he repeats the process until I look at him as if I'm about to kill him. "She has them," I growl through clenched teeth, my sleep ruined for the day.
"What?!" he shouts, scared about her reading them.
"I told you I was taking them with me and you said whatever."
"I thought you meant the other folder!" he justifies.
"No, now leave me alone so I can get ready to go after 3 hours of sleep because we probably have shit to fucking do."
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