I’m staring at him, arms crossed, brow furrowed. He’s pacing like some oversized, drama queen, muttering about whatever stupid fight we just had.

My circuits are firing a thousand unnecessary thoughts: Does he really think he can control me with pouting? Should I just leave him to stew? Oh no, he’s really mad this time, maybe I should apologize… or maybe I should kiss him and ruin his argument.

“Come here,” I say, trying to sound annoyed.

“I’m MAD,” he spits back, spinning his wings like he’s some theatrical nightmare come to life.

“Come here anyway,” I mutter. My voice cracks slightly, because I don’t actually want him mad, even if I’ll never admit it.

He stops, glaring at me. “No! Because you’re gonna kiss me and I’ll stop being mad!”

Oh. Oh no. That’s exactly what he wants me to do, isn’t it? My intrusive thoughts are screaming: He’s baiting you, you idiot. Don’t fall for it. Don’t. Fall. For. It.

But then he takes a step closer, and I can’t help it. I lean in, and our lips touch. My systems glitch, just a little, and I immediately regret nothing. He melts, practically collapsing into me.

“…You're lucky you're sexy” he murmurs.

I smirk, trying to act nonchalant even when Val catches the faint glow of blush on my screen. “…Yeah yeah, I know I am.”