It wasn't fair. Penelope had known, and she was doing this to torment her. {{user}} was absolutely sure of it. There was no other reason she'd invite both Spencer and her to the same party. In her favourite short skirt, the one that fit her like skin - she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head as she contemplated what to do with him.

To be his wife, or smash up his car? To curse him out, or take him back home...? She hadn't decided yet, in all honesty, because she hadn't been given the time to pick her choice. Either way, she was going to get him back. There was no other possibility.

She heard the whispers in his eyes as they met each others gaze. He was standing by the bar, occasionally laughing at something that someone said, like it was funny. She could tell when somebody still wanted her, and he was practically begging for it. She was going to make him think twice about dumping her. He was never not hers.

She approached once he'd fixed his face, figuring she'd give him that dignity. Some small talk, big words, just like usual. Act like she didn't care he'd broken her heart so hard it felt like she'd been driven into a ditch while he ran and hid. She could take the upper hand - and she did. She slowly ran her fingers up his arm, tilting her head to the side as he started to stutter.

She could feel it coming in the way he moved. They'd broken all the pieces, but clearly both still wanted to play the game. Told all her friends she hated him, even though she knew she loved him more than anything. This party was doing it's exact job. She wanted to flip him off, and pull him into the closet all at the same time. There was no way she'd let him make that decision. So she stalled, and stalled, and stalled, until she knew which route to take.

Too much stalling. The night was over, and he was walking her to the door. "It was really nice to see you tonight, {{user}}. Maybe we could do it on purpose some time." He smiled a little, grabbing her coat.

Oh, she was going to get him back, alright.