"Oh please." I tutted, unimpressed. "This is a scary face." I pulled my most hideous face possible, using my fingers to push up my nose pig-style, pulled down the lower lids of my eyes and stretch my mouth open wide, while I stuck my tongue out and made a strange gurgling sound to add to the effect.

My six year old brother rolled over in stitches, holding his stomach tightly as his giggles filled the small living room. "You look so scary!"

I took this as an opportunity and began crawling towards him. "I'm the evil Cassie-monster. I want to eat Tommy's brains and tickle him to death!" The end of my threat trailed off with laughter, unable to contain myself.

Baby-sitting my brother had never really been a chore, but tonight in particular, I found it relaxing to focus on tickle monsters, rather than the horrible day I had had at school.

Speaking of: My phone vibrated mid tickle-attack, alerting me to a message. I assumed it was nothing urgent and was set on continuing the torture of my brother, until it vibrated again, another message. And again. And again.

"Oh for goodness sake." I groaned, but hurried over as images of my mum's car crashing on the way to her date and other disastrous events flashed before my eyes.

Luckily, (or unluckily?) it wasn't a paramedic or policeman trying to get in contact with me, although the news wasn't good.

Perhaps I should explain why my day at school had been so tainted. It began seventeen years ago when I was born and we moved to a slightly bigger house nice and close to school (psst, hint: I'm there right now). Following a chain of random events, my mum and our new neighbours became fast friends over the years. The same cannot be said for myself and our next door neighbour's son, whose name I can't bare to even utter and who will be referred to from here on in only as 'My Arch Enemy'.

So, living so close to the school turned out to be a massive pain in my ass, as seventeen years later, I attend this school. As does My Arch Enemy.

But why do you hate Your Arch Enemy so much? I hear you ask.

The reasons are threefold:

One: When we were five years old he pushed me into a massive puddle of muddy water and I thought I was going to drown. Alas, I did not, however and I had to several baths before the smell went away.

Two: When we were eleven, we were having a race to decide who was the smartest (good logic) and he pulled my hair really hard shouting "I won, I won!" He stopped shouting this after I punched him in the nose, and then I'm the one gets in trouble!?

Three: He's really hot.

Surely that's a good thing? I hear you say.

It's not. Not when combined with the pent up anger inside me, (which I've become really good at bottling up recently, by the way). All his hotness means that it's really difficult to think of good comebacks when we get into one of our daily spats. And thus, his hotness is the only reason I ever look like a fool.

And eventually, I'm going to blow, because the final contributing factor to my horrible day at school was when my English teacher, Miss Cornwall (I always hated that bitch) put myself and My Arch Enemy together for a little 'outside of class project'. I mean, out of all the other students you could have picked! And what are you, like 200 years old? RETIRE ALREADY!

Ahem.

Anyway, you can see why I wasn't thrilled when the four consecutive text messages read:

"Can't go to the library on Saturday anymore, football."

"Hey, why don't I just come over to yours now?"

"I'm coming over now."

"I'm outside."

Sounds like a recipe for disaster, right?

No, actually it sounds like a recipe for romance.

Shut up. This is not one of those stories (Spoiler: It is). This will be a tragic tale about the worse night of my life, spent with My Arch Enemy (Spoiler: It won't be, it'll be great).

It was seconds after I read the last text that the doorbell rang. I frowned as I stood and tried to make myself look decent. Not that I cared what he thought about how I looked or anything. Glancing down at my clothes, I tried to straighten out the crumples caused by the tickle-monster incident and briefly pondered if I should change out of my pajamas. I chose against it and decided that if my tartan pajama shorts and Winnie the Pooh t-shirt were good enough for me and Tommy, they were good enough for My Arch Enemy.

A loud knock at the door made me begin to walk towards the door very, very slowly, and a part of me hoped that it was raining really hard outside the door. But when I finally reached the door, the April weather had failed me and My Arch Enemy was as dry as a bone.

"Anderson." I mumbled his surname.

"Winnie the Pooh?" He said.

"And?" I raised an eyebrow, making sure he couldn't get past me. "You're the one who shows up unannounced."

"I did announce. Check your phone." He moved forward to get through the door and his hotness made me let him past. (You win this round hotness!)

"Five seconds is not adequate warning." I shut the door and followed him down the hall towards the living room. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm baby-sitting." I spoke loudly before we reached the door. "Which you would know if you gave adequate warning."

He stopped suddenly and turned back at me, making me almost run into him (luckily I have reaction skills like a ninja!).

"Look, you're the one who was so desperate to get this done early," he spoke down to me since we were in such close proximity, "and here I am, prepared to work all night, and there you are. Not. Who's really in the right here?"

I shook my head, baffled at his nonsense. Finally, I stated plainly: "You're not staying."

"Fine." He said. "We won't work on the project tonight. But I am staying." He grinned.

I raised my eyebrow, "You can't stay in my house without my permission."

"Yes, I can," he'd lowered his voice, his hand was on the doorknob to the living room. "Because as soon as I open this door, Tommy is going to go crazy, and ask me to stay."

Completely shocked as his cruel tactics, I glared. "Why would you even want to stay."

He leaned in very close. "Because it annoys you." And with that, he swiftly opened the door and strolled in. I stood outside the door with my mouth hanging open.

"Davie!" I heard Tommy squeal with glee and I groaned in response. Why? Why me?

With nothing left to do, I sauntered into the living room, where My Arch Enemy (whose name you may recognise as David) was spinning my little brother around in circles.

"Anderson." I practically growled, but he didn't hear me. "Anderson." I said louder, with the same amount of spite. He still didn't hear me over Tommy's high pitched shouts of joy and his low rumbly laughter. "He's going to be sick, dickhead!" I yelled. Maybe too loud.

My Arch Enemy put Tommy down, who gasped and whispered, "Cassie sweared." The boy beside him pretended to act just as horrified:

"Oh my, you're right Tommy. What shall we do to punish her?" He feigned deep thinking and I wondered, Is this not punishment enough?

"Death by tickles!" Tommy announced loudly, running at me, his hands outstretched. "Kill the Cassie-monster!" My Arch Enemy obviously thought this was a great idea and followed Tommy's lead.

I did may best to fight Tommy off playfully, but when he started towards me, I pointed a sturdy finger at him. "Don't you come near me." I warned.

A grin spread across his face, when Tommy suddenly shouted, "Hold the Cassie-monster down, Davie!"

I scream as he did exactly that, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me to the ground. The next thing I knew, I was pinned under his body, my hair sprawled across the carpet: betrayed by my own brother.

My Arch Enemy held my arms above my head while Tommy's tiny hands poked at all my most ticklish places. I squealed and squirmed under the brute above me and kept thinking, How did my night end up like this?

Finally, Tommy hopped up an told me boldly that I was dead and he was going to get some ice-cream. Before I could interject he had left the room.

I glared at the body above me. "You can get off me know." I deadpanned.

"Nah, I think I'll stay, Cassie-monster." He grinned down at me. "It's a good angle. Especially with you all hot and flustered and-"

"That's enough." I snapped. "Have you no self control?" I questioned, as I tried to rolled my way out from under him, to no avail.

"Not with you squirming around under me like that." His grin widened.

I made a disgusted sound to hide how my stomach had suddenly clenched at the idea... and not in a bad way.

"Seriously get off. We might as well get some work done while you're here."

"Ugh." He moaned as me rolled off, only to lie back on the floor himself. "Classic kill-joy Cassie."

His words hit me hard, as memories of kids shouting the nickname made tears spring to my eyes. But determined to not let him know, I muttered, "My stuff is upstairs", and hurried out of the room.

"Cassie?" I heard his ask but I continued to walk upstairs. Once in my room, I gathered up the books and notes I would need for the sooner we started the sooner it would all be over, right?

I was sitting on my bed and waiting for the next round of torture to begin, when My Arch Enemy poked his head around the door and casually dandered in, saying, "Tommy's konked out on the sofa."

"Uh. Don't you know how to knock?" I asked but we both knew I was being deliberately picky and he answered only by walking over and dropping himself on my bed. He stretched his arms above his head, then lay back, resting on his hands, his eyes closed.

I don't usually study My Arch Enemy's appearance. But when I do, it's certainly a feast for the eyes. His chest rose and fell gently with each breath. Through his thin navy t-shirt, I could make out the faint lines of a beautifully toned stomach. His light brown hair fanned out a little on my disheveled bed, making terrible things pop into my head. I bit down on my own lip as I found myself starting at his. Not to thin and not to full, his pale red lips sat slightly open as he lay on my bed peacefully. God, I wonder how they would feel on my lips and all over my-

I suddenly caught myself on and shook the thought out my head.

Completely oblivious to the inner workings of my mind, My (slightly attractive) Arch Enemy kept his eyes closed and spoke sleepily. "Cassie I'm too tired to work. Can we just cuddle up and go to sleep?"

Despite my secretly dirty thoughts, the disgust in my voice wasn't fake when I said, "Ugh, no," loudly and probably too quickly, then continued with, "can we please just get on with this?"

"Hop on over, babe, you're the one holding us back-"

"I mean the project you pervert!" More horrified that he would joke about something like that with me more than anything.

I was looking away from him, staring at the books on my desk, but I heard the grin in his voice when he said, "Chill out, Cass, I'm only fucking with you." He then proceeded to piss himself laughing at his 'joke'.

I rolled my eyes. "Anderson." My warning tone was harsh enough to stop him laughing but not enough to wipe that stupid grin off his face.

"Why do you always call me that anyway? I have a first name, y'know?" His grin said 'smug bastard' but there was a hint in his eyes of genuine interest and so I answered him.

It was a snide answer, but an answer non the less.

"I can't bring myself to say your name without vomiting." I said coolly.

"Pft." He blew some air out of his mouth a little condescendingly. "I hear it's because you can't say my name with going all weak in the knees." I rolled my eyes in response. "But don't take my word for it. Maybe we should take a look at you old diary and see what it says about the matter."

I felt my heart jump in fear of the thought and my eyes automatically flew to my pillow. I regretted this immediately as the boy on my bed followed my gaze and at that exact moment we both dove towards the object hidden (not very well) beneath my pillow.

I narrowly avoided crashing my head into My Arch Enemy's but wasn't quick enough to grab the offending book.

Holding it at arm's length, the boy never stopped grinning. I glared.

"Now, let's see what Cassie's been saying about lil ol' me..." he made a move to open the diary and I swung my arm to grab it, but he was too quick and I ended up missing by a mile.

By my reaction you may be thinking that I was writing all kinds of sickly sweet love letters in my diary, but in reality, I hadn't written anything in favour of My Arch Enemy in a long time. Now it was mostly rants and the odd (incredibly detailed) confession of a pervy little reoccurring dream I have about the two of us.

So you can see why I didn't want his hands on it any longer than they had already been. Not only would he see how much his general behaviour and attitude gets under my skin, but he would realise that I had an oh-so-tiny fantasy about having him physically under my skin.

Neither if which I was too keen on him knowing.

"Dear diary, today David looked at me and I totally orgasmed on the spot!" He mocked in a squeaky, high pitched voice, not even looking at the book.

"I do not talk like that." I deadpanned, folding my arms across my chest.

"Dear diary," he ignored me and continued to mimic, the book wasn't even open, "today David came over to do our English project and we ended up having wild, hot sex on my bed. It blew my mind." I gave him a punch on the arm for that one, not hard enough to hurt, but not light enough to be considered 'playful'. "No need to get violent, Cassandra, dear. If you want it back, come and get it." It was a painfully obvious attempt to rile me up and I chose to take the pacifist road.

Or at least I did, until he muttered "Kill-joy," and I literally pounced on him.

He fell back, landing on my discarded bed covers, but managing to keep the book well out of my reach. Just as I began to shimmy up his body towards the book, he threw it onto the floor beside my bed. Figuring this was my chance to grab it, I went to slide off his body, but he wrapped his arms tightly round my waist making it impossible to move anywhere.

"Anderson..." I groaned, "let me go. This is so unproductive!" I ended up complaining, despite a secret wish for him to never let go.

"But this is fun," he smiled sweetly, "this is what I wanted to do all along."

Shaking my head I said, "you came over here to do a project, Anderson."

"Only an idiot wouldn't recognise that as an excuse." He said, quietly, but still smiling.

"Huh?" Was all I could muster. Then after a few moments: "But you're my arch enemy..."

A little dazed, I hardly realised he'd let go of my waist until he laughed loudly and exclaimed, "Sorry? I'm your arch enemy?!" He laughed again, "Who even has an arch enemy?!"

"Loads of people." I said automatically.

"Really? Name some." He challenged.

I raised an eyebrow and pushed myself up and off him so I was sitting legs folded, not uncomfortably close. "Well, me obviously. And you... by default." He laughed, causing delightful pinpricks to run along my arms and make me shiver. "Why are you so shocked anyway? It's not like we've ever got along."

He looked almost offended momentarily, before his confidant grin quickly returned. "What do you mean? We used to hang out all the time."

This threw me. I kind of gaped at him for a moment, a confused frown solid on my forehead. He watched for a few seconds then started to talk, but I interrupted him:

"You think we got along as children?" I raised my voice loudly, "Are you kidding me?!"

He looked genuinely startled, "Yeah, I mean we fought a little but-"

"Fought a little?! Jesus, you have no idea, do you?" I practically laughed in his face.

He frowned. "Whats the big deal? We were kids."

"Yeah. And then we were older, and we kept fighting. And now we're technically adults and we're still fighting." I spat.

"Chill out Cass-"

"Stop telling me to chill out!" I sat up on my knees to get a bit of height to my argument. "You tortured me when we were younger! You were the only person I knew when we started school and you fucking ignored me!" I poke him hard on the shoulder, years of pent up anger seeping out. "And now that you're on the football team and you have all these gorgeous girls flocking to your side, and I don't even try to speak to you any more, but you're constantly there, like some kind of revenge, because I used to want to be you're friend and..." I didn't really have much to say and I stopped short.

"I... I was trying to..." he mumbled gracelessly.

"It doesn't even matter, can we get back to the project?" My voice was quiet and cold as I turned around and threw my legs off the bed.

Going to stand, I felt his hand over mine and I pulled it away. He spoke anyway. "I was trying to get you to like me. I... I kind of... like... you, Cass." He said oh-so-quietly that I assumed my ears had deceived me. He clear his throat and I gave a little nod of my head (more like a twitch) to tell him to go on. He cleared his throat again. "It took me a while to... um, figure it out. But when I tried to get close to you... you'd already made up your mind and..." I turned around slowly, but his eyes were on his hands. " I mean I'm surprised you didn't see it." He let out a small laugh. "I picked on you, I ignored you, could I make it more obvious?"

I smacked his chest hard and he looked up. "You could have tried being nice to me, dumbass!"

"I tried! But you were to stubborn to pick up on it!"

"Stubborn?! How dare y-" he cut off my sentence with his lips (hint: they were on my face!).

Man, had I been right about those lips feeling good against mine! I almost pulled away to begin with, but as his perfect-balance-between-soft-and-rough lips moved against mine, I found myself leaning deeper into the kiss.

Picking up on this, My Arch Enemy moved his hands to hold onto my waist. His thumbs rubbed soft circles and subconsciously I moved my body closer, so we fit more comfortably together.

I let my own hands run along his shoulders to set up camp resting gently on his neck.

I felt his tongue flick ever so slightly against my lip and I opened my mouth just enough to let our tongues collide and begin the fight for dominance, causing a (hopefully subtle) moan to creep out my lips and grin from him.

We quickly got into a comfortable rhythm and I started to lie back. Our entwined bodies forced him to slowly fall down on top of me. I felt his hands trace along the outside of my thighs, and I started running my fingers through his hair, when suddenly-

"Cassiiiiiiiiiie!" I high-pitched, six-year-old voice was travelling up the stairs at an alarming rate.

Throwing the boy off me, I rolled out from under him and right off the bed, landing with an awkward little "Humph," on the floor.

"Cassie?" Tommy asked, pushing open my door.

"Tommy." I stood and swept my hands over my crinkled clothes. "I though you were sleeping." His bed-head-esque hair and red, sleepy eyes told me that he had been.

"Cassie, I want more ice-cream." He looked up at me sweetly.

How could someone say no to that face? "Alright then. Let's go get some ice-cream."

I looked over at My Arch Enemy, still sitting on my bed, eyes wide and hand awkwardly scratching the back of his head, and gave a nudge of my head to tell him to follow us down.

Once comfortably in the kitchen, ice-cream in the bowl, I walked to the front door and My Arch Enemy followed. "You should probably go." I said quietly, so as to not arouse suspicion from the ice-cream eating six-year-old in the kitchen.

"I- um, yeah." He pick up his bag and gave a swift nod before opening the door and closing it behind him tightly.

For a brief second I had hoped he wouldn't leave, and that we would talk this whole this out. But the door closed, and as I slumped against the wall, I wondered how I had hidden my feeling so well that I had even tricked myself.

I heard Tommy opening the freezer to find yet more ice-cream, and I decided I should probably stop him before I was responsible for early onset diabetes, when suddenly the front door opened, and there stood My Arch Enemy.

"David?" I blinked.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all those years I spent ignoring you and I'm sorry for being a dick and I'm sorry for coming back now to tell you but- Wait. Did you call me David?"

I didn't answer him, but instead threw my arms around him. "I'm so glad you came back."

I felt his smile against my skin and his arms tighten around my body and I felt my stomach twist and my breath hitch when he whispered an almost inaudible, "Me too."

Author note: Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review, especially constuctive criticism (Or if ypu just want to say hi?)!

Thank you to the lovely people who already took the time to review (:

Best wishes