The Tenth Time
The first time I talked to you, I asked if you were always that annoying.
You'd been rambling on about video games for hours on end, and finally you asked me;
"Hey Rae – " To which I'd responded, "Don't call me Rae." You ignored me, and continued to ask;
"Do you like video games? They're the coolest, aren't they? Do you like them? What am I saying – who doesn't like video games?" I asked you irritably if you were always so freaking annoying. You turned red and made a feeble apology. I glared. You didn't ask me if about video games anymore.
The second time I talked to you, I told you to shut up.
I had been trying to meditate and find my center, and you wouldn't leave me alone. You kept buzzing around me, morphing into this and that, asking me about my favorite animals, and talking and talking and talking and talking. I told you to please shut up, can't you see I'm trying to meditate here! You turned into a cat and made an incredibly (though I would never use this word in public) cute face and begged me for forgiveness. I rolled my eyes and told you to go away. From then on you never interrupted my meditation again, unless there was an emergency.
The third time I talk to you, I told you to take your damn tofu and shove it up your ass.
You wouldn't shut up. You kept screaming that eating meat was the ultimate sin or something. You kept talking about how anyone who ate meat was the devil. I didn't want to be considered the devil, because my father was a demon. So, I told you I'd eat your "freaking tofu" if you'd shut up about it. You happily dumped about five pounds of the disgusting stuff onto my plate, and started chattering away excitedly about how happy you were someone was trying your tofu, and how tofu was God or something like that. I got so annoyed; I pushed the plate away from me and said;
"Take your damn tofu and shove it up your ass, because I'm not eating it!" Cyborg sniggered as I crossed my arms defiantly, as if to say my decision was final. What do I care if I'm the devil? You didn't discuss tofu at all for the remained of the week.
The fourth time I talked to you, I lied to you.
You told lame joke after even lamer joke. You went on and on forever, just like the energizer bunny or something – you just kept going (and going, and going, and going, and going…) You used my name to make a joke about ravens, and asked what I thought about it. I told you that you weren't funny. That was the first time I'd ever lied to you. You didn't tell me any more jokes until I forced myself (well, maybe I didn't force myself) to smile at one of them.
The fifth time I talked to you, I realized you were really rather attractive.
I don't know why, honestly. We were talking about something irrelevant and unimportant, and I noticed you're hair looked nice, your eyes were gorgeous, and you had a nice body. You asked me why I was staring at you, and I was so taken aback I snapped; "I'm not staring at you. Don't be cocky. Why would you think that?" You carefully avoided me for the rest of the day.
The sixth time I talked to you, I threw you out the window.
It wasn't my fault. You had the audacity to accuse me of thinking I found you funny, so I hurled you out the window. Granted, it was only the first story and I healed all wounds you obtained, but my point remained. After that, you didn't accuse me of finding you funny until you spoke to Happy inside my mirror and she said your jokes were funny. (By the way, Happy was telling the truth.)
The seventh time I talked to you, I told you video games were a waste of time.
You'd been playing for nine hours straight, and the noise was giving me a migraine. You asked me if I wanted to play, and I told you video games were a waste of time and rotted your brains out, and that they were for pathetic losers who had no life. You didn't play video games for three weeks. I was shocked, and Cyborg nearly killed everyone in the tower, trying to find someone new to play with.
The either time I talked to you, I called you illiterate.
You had borrowed one of my books of poetry, and said you thought it was not only depressing, but you couldn't understand a few of the words. I told you; "any idiot can understand those words, you illiterate fool, don't you know anything?" I found an envelope with a letter inside it on my door the next morning. It had all the definitions of all the 'big words' from all the poems on it. All correct.
The ninth time I talked to you, I told you I hated you.
You had told me you loved me. I'd wanted to tell you the truth – that I loved you, too, but it wouldn't come out. The words refused to form, refused to leave my mouth. You poured your heart out to me, and I couldn't even tell you. My eyes flooded with tears, my lamp broke in my room, and I shouted;
"I hate you!"
And slammed the door in your face. You refused to move until Cyborg finally picked you up and literally threw you into your own room, telling you to get some sleep.
The tenth time I talked to you, I told you I loved you.
Three house after you told me you loved me, and one hour after Cyborg made you leave me be, I still couldn't sleep. I went to your door and knocked frantically, desperate for you to talk to me. You whipped open your door and asked if I was okay. I said;
"Something's very wrong here. I love you too."
You smiled and said; "I know." You always did.
Authors Notes: Hee hee... I have a Raven-obsession... I loveto write about her! Anyways,I do not own Teen Titans. Read n' review please!