Okay, this is Chapter 11 of Return of the Titans. I want to make it a nice round twelve, which is hardly round, but it's my favorite number and quite possibly the best year of my life. It was also the worst. But, it was definitely the most memorable.
I know this is against the rules but… Which year was the best of your life?
Raven was in her gigantic bed, staring up at the ceiling. The lights were out, the curtains drawn, but she could not find the peace to go to sleep.
It was not in her nature accept love, especially from one who was different from her, her complete opposite.
Where she was quiet, he was obnoxious; where she was angry and withdrawn, he was happy and cheerful—honestly, she should hate his guts. But why didn't she?
Raven sighed happily. She had learned from her mother, and the hard way, that love needed no reason. She preferred it if he had no reason to love her; it made things easier.
When someone says they love you for your personality, they generally mean it. But with Garfield, that was probably not the case. She remembered times when he got fed up with her, and for good reason. But her probably loved her so because she never bored him.
She sighed again. Life was great, and everything was clear. For some reason, she didn't dislike anything anymore. Hell, she probably even could tolerate pink now.
With Garfield's confession came her own; she loved him too. And right now, all she needed was him.
But the night wouldn't give her that. Right now, all she needed was sleep.
And sleep came.
Garfield entered his hotel room, dropping his car keys on the little table. HE slumped onto the bed and fanned his limbs out, hoping that his poor little heart would stop trying to burst out of his ribcage.
He was incandescently happy, and he had every reason to be. He had just kissed Raven, the Raven.
The Raven who hated boys and their stupid feelings. The Raven who considered being emotionally impaired an excuse to not date. The Raven who was untouchable, who had a front for everyone, including her own best friends.
The Raven who Garfield was now in love with.
The next day
Garfield awoke with a violent snort. He wiped his drool off his face and stretched. He smacked his lips in a vain attempt to wet the inside of his mouth again.
He got up to get a drink and get dressed. He almost felt depressed until he saw something in the bathroom.
A purple towel, hanging off the towel rack, was the only one in his bathroom. "Is this some kind of read-between-the-lines dream?" he wondered, running his fingers over the thread.
The towel felt unreal—it was fluffy and slightly warm. Then a thought entered his mind: "Is this Raven's?"
He shook his head. She didn't come back with him, and it was probably one someone had left behind. She probably had white towels anyways.
He shrugged and threw the towel in the bathtub. Let the maids get it.
Garfield went back out, toothbrush in his mouth, scrubbing away. A knock sounded from the door. He went over and opened it, hearing a squeal as he did so.
Tara stood there, adorned in pink, her soft-pink Louis Vuitton littering the hallway. Unfortunately, Garfield was only in boxers and a t-shirt, only making her squeal more.
"WOW, Gar, you have some nice legs!" she giggled and he scowled. Taking the toothbrush out of his mouth, he said through a mouthful of froth, "What're you doing here?"
Tara looked hurt as she whimpered, "I missed you, Gar."
Garfield rolled his eyes and spat into the bathroom sink. He wiped his mouth off with his hand and demanded, "Tara, leave me the hell alone. We're over. Get it?"
Tara sighed, looking flustered. "I thought you knew," she said, distressed.
He was getting impatient. "I knew what?"
Tara looked him straight in the eye and said mournfully, "I love you."
Garfield groaned. "No you don't; the trip to Venice was just something to get my mind of the one I really loved," he said, and looked away.
Tara's face fell and she said quietly, "So…you never missed me after all?"
Garfield shook his head.
She sighed again. "That's figures." She turned and picked up her luggage. "I guess I'll have to go and see this guy for myself."
He looked at her quizzically. "Wait, 'guy'? I never said it was a guy."
She looked back. "So you're not gay?"
Garfield shook his head, chuckling, "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm straight."
Tara looked relieved. "Good, because that was just a plain nasty thought."
He looked at her and smiled. "Can we still be friends at least?"
Tara shook her head. "Sorry, Gar, but I meant what I said. I do love you."
And with that, she picked up her luggage and disappeared down the halls, leaving Garfield to decide what to do next.
Raven walked into Cyborg's living room, fully dressed in a black skirt and dusky purple tank top, amber necklace in place. Cyborg remarked, "Damn, girl. Did you have a booty call last night or something? Why you so happy?"
Raven glared hatred at the mechanical man, and he laughed. "Joking," he said and hurried to the kitchen to make up for it.
Despite his vulgar question, Raven was still happy. She sat on the couch and flipped through the channels, searching for the news.
But after five minutes or so, the news began to depress Raven. She didn't like hearing about the war in Iraq any more than the next person. So she turned it off and went into the kitchen to help Cyborg make their breakfasts.
How's that? VERY FLUFFY, if I might add, and a little on the nasty side on Cyborg's part. I'm sorry! I had to make him have his say!
Again: Which year was the best of your life?
Remember to Review! No Flames!