A/N: Warning, rated T for swearing. Don't like, don't read.


Your fists are clenched, your eyes are narrowed, and your feet are spread apart as though bracing yourself. Kuki's got her hands on her hips as she glares at you from the doorway her feet spread to prevent you from pushing past her.

You're fighting again about something trivial – so trivial that you've completely forgotten what exactly the argument is about. Maybe you called her a baby for still playing with rainbow monkeys, (she's sixteen for cruds sake) or you took the last bowl of rainbow munchies (except you haven't eaten rainbow munchies today. Maybe she's mad about you taking the last grape sucker?), but no matter what the reason, you're sure you're right (because you're always right, except when you're wrong) and you have a right to be mad, because she's blocking the entrance to your video games, and dammit you don't care how much you like the girl (wait, what?) nobody gets between you and CoD.

"What the bloody hell did I do this time?"

You wince at how harsh the words sound, but you are running on four hours of sleep, two energy drinks, and a miserable day at school. These types of confrontations have been occurring more and more recently (Abby says it's cause you're getting older, but that's a load of bull, you can't see what getting older has to do with anything) and you're sick of it.

You can swear you see her eyes harden, complete with sparks, and you start to wonder whether you should've chosen a less hostile way to frame your question.

"Forgotten this morning already?"

You start to sweat a little (not because of what happened this morning – you'll never admit it, but you have already forgotten) but because her words are dripping with sarcasm, and that always spells trouble.

Angry you can deal with. Joyful you can deal with. You've even (sort of) figured out how to deal with sad. But sarcastic? That means you've pushed Kuki passed the point of no return (doing what, you're still not sure) and you've always needed help to bring her back. Unfortunately, help is ten miles away at an ice cream parlor, and probably isn't coming back anytime soon.

"Uh… Is this important?"

It's not the greatest reply in the world, but it's all you can think of right now, and you dearly hope it won't make her angrier.

"I don't know Wallabee. Is it?"

The sarcasm is more or less pouring off her words now, and you know that whatever you did has been on Kuki's mind for a while, and not in a good way. Her arms are crossed and her foot is tapping as you frantically try to recall the events of the morning. (Got up. Showered. Ate breakfast. Went to school. Came home. Went to the tree house.)

Nothing's standing out, until a recollection hits you like a bucket of cold water, causing a gasp to slip past your lips as a blush warms your cheeks, and for an instant (but only an instant) your anger is gone, drowned in embarrassment.

"Is this…uh…about the…uh… the…"

You trail off, unable to finish, hoping she gets the message because you're sure as hell not gonna volunteer the information in case it's not what she's thinking of; the last thing you need to do is give her another reason to be mad at you.

"Conversation before school? Yes."

As the conversation floods through your mind (it wasn't a particularly long conversation) you try to work out how that simple conversation had gotten her this angry.

You had, (like the idiot you are) decided to attempt once again to confess your feelings (you sound like such a girl) to Kuki.

It was Hoagie's idea, you remember and instantly direct some of your anger his way.

And as always, you'd failed completely, although you're pretty sure Kuki figured out what you're trying to say (just like she did every time).

You might've actually succeeded this time if it wasn't for your natural stupidity and recklessness (Dammit, why did you always have to try to confess in front of a group of people?)

"Well?"

You blink in surprise as you realize she's waiting for an answer to a question she didn't ask (why are girls so confusing?) as her foot continues to go tap tap tap.

The tapping is unnerving, and makes it difficult to think. You tell her as much, but she doesn't respond (unless you count the fact that the tapping got louder).

"What am I supposed to say? It's not like that stupid conversation was important or anything."

That's a flat out lie. You had a lot riding on that conversation, but that doesn't mean she did, and you'd much rather be alone the rest of your life then tell her the truth. (Is that a fact?)

"Ugh! Wally you're so stupid!"

That's not the reaction you were expecting, but that doesn't matter – it's not the one you want to hear. You grit your teeth and growl as the words bounce around your (apparently empty) cranium. You know you're stupid – you've only been told a thousand times – but it still hurts a little coming from her.

"I'm stupid? How the crud am I stupid?"

As flames spew from her eyes, and her hands curl into fists, you frantically jog your memory, attempting to remember the last time you did something unforgivably stupid. (And that conversation doesn't count).

Before you can come up with an answer, she gives it to you.

"Cause you can't see what's staring you straight in the face!"

And as you're busy trying to figure out what it is you're supposed to be seeing, (you wish she had elaborated more, maybe given you a hint or two) she's glaring at you, those big violet eyes narrowed to slits, devoid of their usual cheerfulness. It's nerve wracking, and for the thousandth time you wonder to yourself why the hell you're still putting yourself through this crap.

For seven years the two of you have had these types of arguments – always the same thing. You (bloody moron) attempt to tell Kuki your feelings for her. (Although you're still not sure exactly what those feelings are, because you've never felt like this before dammit.) You always back out (bloody coward) and she always gets mad.

You'd always assumed her anger at your almost-confession (of what you're still not sure) was a sign of rejection. It hurt.

Every time.

"Are you listening to me?"

You focus your attention back on Kuki, blushing (how girly can you get?) when you notice how close she's gotten to you. (Is it hot in here?)

"Nope."

You're angry enough to be glad when you see a pang of sorrow cross her face, and nice enough to feel ashamed. You both brush it off quickly, and you silently promise yourself you'll apologize after you've both cooled down, and you've waited long enough to preserve your dignity.

"And what exactly am I supposed to be seeing?"

You're ashamed it's come to this, but your video games are waiting, and you're tired of the word games. You're willing to sacrifice some dignity if it'll finally get you the answer you've been looking for.

She looks confused (it's a nice change) and you realize she's further ahead in this conversation then you are, but it doesn't matter, and you don't bloody care.

Understanding lights up in her eyes (but only for a moment, then they go back to shooting sparks) and her arms jam together across her chest, as she takes a step closer and you take a step back, because dammit, she's scary when she's mad.

"Damn it Wally, I like you! Like-like you!"

You've forgotten how to breathe as you stand there staring at her, your jaw on the floor and your heart in your throat, trying to convince yourself that no, you're not dreaming, this is really happening (there was always a bit more loving and a lot less screaming in your dreams) and that you'd better say something, but you can't think of what.

Another minute (day? year?) goes by and you still don't move. Kuki backs away, her eyes downcast, all anger gone, taking your silence as rejection. Panic erupts in your brain as you frantically try to think of something to say (a simple 'I like you too' would probably work, but you can't seem to get your mouth to move) and you realize that words aren't going to come, so you do the only logical thing.

You kiss her.

And it's the best damn thing you've ever felt, her lips against yours, her hair twined between your fingers, her fingers twisted in your hair, pressing against each other, seven years worth of passion tucked into one kiss.

When you finally part you're both panting, her lips are red, and so are her cheeks, and you're pretty sure you look the same, but you don't really want to find a mirror and check. (Not when she's finally in your arms, something you've been dreaming about for a while now).

"So what now Wally?"

You consider that a moment as you run your fingers through her hair, noting the lack of anger and sarcasm in her voice (alleluia). The fight seems to be over, and you've never been more grateful in your entire life.

"First, I ask you to be my girlfriend."

Despite how hard you try to hide it behind a mask of bravado and confidence, there's fear in your voice. You're (irrationally, given the sentiments she's expressed so far) afraid that she'll say no, and break your heart all over again (how many times has it been broken now?)

But you really needn't've worried – she giggles and presses closer, nodding her head as a blush spreads across her cheeks.

A cocky, confident grin spreads across your face as she looks at you curiously.

"And now, I'm going to play video games."

Because you've said it before, and you'll say it again, nothing (not even the girl you love) gets between you and your video games.


A/N: Yeahhhh… so here's another LCIL repeat for you. Enjoy.

So, this was Andra's (fail?) attempt at being deep. Yep.

I'm also trying out a new style of writing, (don't worry, it won't replace my current style – it's just nice to try something new) and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

Partly inspired by the wise words of wisdom bestowed upon me by my friend lullaby-bunni in a review:

"Wally/Kuki = Dysfunctional."

Codename KND (c) Mr. Warburton