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Summary: She doesn't know what possessed her. But then again, maybe she did: she was just taking back what was rightfully hers. TessShane, implied MitchieShane.
She doesn't know what possessed her.
One moment, she was yelling at him, words spilling out her mouth (words she would surely regret later), and the next, she was throwing her arms around him, her lips meeting his passionately, harshly—so harshly, in fact, that it hurt, hurt both physically and mentally.
But she didn't care.
All she thought, all she comprehended, was the terrible thought of: Why am I doing this? What if his girlfriend finds out?
And then a smile tilts her lips, because of course she didn't care if his girlfriend finds out. His girlfriend took everything from her—her fame, her status as "queen bee" at Camp Rock, the reputation she had for being the best voice at Camp Rock, and more importantly, she took him from her.
She wasn't going to let that fly.
He breaks away a heartbeat after that thought, as though he heard its malice.
"I can't do this," he murmurs, taking a step away carefully, his brown eyes fearful, his dark hair flopping over his eyes.
She takes a step forward, running a manicured hand down his chest. A nearly imperceptible shudder passes through his body, and she smirks.
"Certainly not your... ahem. Little friend."
He blushes at this, and somehow, she just knows that she never made him feel this way. That thought causes pleasure to race down her spine.
"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"
"I can't," he says. "It's not possible."
"Oh, please." Her drama queen instincts kick in, and she flicks her blonde hair behind her shoulders. "Anything is possible, hon."
Their little game wasn't amusing anymore.
Instead of responding, she leans forward, capturing his lips with hers once more, forcefully. For a moment, he tries to pull away, but she runs her hands down his chest and he succumbs, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her ever closer.
They just make it to the bed before the door flies open. She breaks away from the kiss, smirking at the sight before her. She was standing in the doorway, a look of shock and horror on her face. She screams his name and he disentangles himself from her—the loss was painful—and tries to explain his actions.
"Mitch, it's not what it looks like—"
Tears are filling her eyes at this point.
"Yes, it is."
Those three words seem to take the wind out his sails and so she takes her opportunity. She smooths down her bright green top (thankfully, it was still his favorite color), making sure she noticed. Then she turned her attention to her.
Two words fell out of her mouth.
And it was true.
She even knew it.
Predictably, his expression falls, but before he can say anything, she was gone. A sense of contentment spreads through her body.
She leans forward again, not letting him protest as she presses her lips to his again.
Maybe she didn't know what possessed her.
All she knew is that she took back what was rightfully hers. And, honestly, that was enough for her.
That's what you get for messing with Tess Tyler, she thinks maliciously. Never mess with her. She fights back.
And more than that, she wins.
Author's Note: All right, I don't know what possessed me. I don't know why I wrote a Tess/Shane ficlet, but hopefully it turned out okay. I'm not one hundred percent happy with it, but I just wanted to write something. This is what came out. It's not Shane/Mitchie, but... it's wonderfully angsty, don'tcha think?
Please review and tell me if you enjoyed it? If you do, I'll love you forever! :-D