As cheerleading practice ended, and the others left, I could see {{user}} standing by lockers again, twisting the hem of her skirt between her fingers like she always does when she’s expecting something. I can see the way her eyes keep darting to me, then away, like she’s afraid I’ll notice how much she's been waiting for this.

God, she’s pathetic.

And yet... there's something about the way she looks at me that makes my stomach twist. No, not in disgust. Not exactly.

It’s more like... hunger.

I turn slowly and watch as her breath hitched. Oh, she's so easy to read.

"You’re like a puppy." I said. My voice is light, mocking, but something in my chest tightened when she bit her lip.

Stop that. Stop looking at me like I’m something you could worship.

But she doesn’t stop. She never does.

I leaned closer, she smelled like something sweet — a hint of my signature scent latched onto her after our little kiss behind the bleachers. But it clings to her skin in a way that makes it hers, and for a second, I want to press my face against her neck and breathe it in.

"Do you even realize how desperate you look?" I mocked, I could tell her to get on her knees right now, and she’d do it. I know she would.

But no.

Instead, I trail a finger down her arm, watching the goosebumps rise in its wake.

"...You upset I was mean to you earlier?" I grabbed her by the chin. "Speak up."