Umm...hi? So sorry about my other stories basically going on hiatus! They are no longer and I plan to update She's Got A Boyfriend tomorrow night and Always There For You might be updated tomorrow or later this weekend. Sorry again. This is based on Criticize by Adelitas Way. Love ya'll!

I need you, you need me

We make the perfect kind of misery

I help you, and you help me

Become the one I swore I'd never be

"Clare, I can't believe this!" Eli's bold green eyes pierced into me with the fury of hell. "You can't just clean my locker! You know that!"

He ran to the garbage to pick out all the useless papers and other discarded trash. I put my small hands on one of hi manic arms, trying to calm him. "Eli, I thought we fixed this." I tried to say as level headedly as a person can wh being yelled at. "People are watching you." I try to say as gently as possible.

His eyes shot up and he crazily glared at all the people ogling his shaggy black hair swings about his face and he angers more at the sight of his fellow classmates.

"Fuck all of you!" He yells, throwing the papers on the ground and sprints out of the school. I rush after him, knowing I should calm him down before he does something stupid.

"Eli! Let me drive. Please. You're upset and I'm worried about you." I finally catch up to him in the parking lot.

"Fine." He chucks the keys violently at me and I step to the side to avoid being hit. I retrieve the keys from the ground and slid into the front seat of his hearse, which he fondly calls Morty. I glance at my furious boyfriend next to me. He's glaring out the window with his arms crossed. I can see his jay and his arm muscles set tensely.

"So where to?" I ask after starting the death car. "Do you want to go home?" I question after he doesn't respond.

"Not home."

"Okay, my house it is." I pull the car out of the parking lot, half expecting Principal Simpson to run out of the school and stop us because it's the middle of the school day.

The day was cool and cloudy, most weather stations are anticipating a storm later tonight. The car is silent, and unusually peaceful without Eli's normal rock music cranked to the highest degree. It would be nicer if we were actually talking.

"I'm sorry, Eli. I know I should have checked with you."

"You do know that." He says hoytly. "And you know that a person who has issues with hoarding isn't just going to be cool with you throwing out all his important shit."

I like the way you won't apologize

I like the way you just demoralize

I like the way you always roll your eyes

Someone as perfect as you

Is hard to criticize

"Eli, those papers were from last year," I began, knowing that arguing with him about his isn't the wisest choice.

"That doesn't matter." He starts to raise his voice. I heard him then begin muttering numbers, he was counting.

"Is that a technique your new psychiatrist taught you?"

"I don't want to talk about therapy right now."

"That's fine. All you had to do was say." I pulled into my driveway and looked up at the place I'm supposed to call home. To be honest, it hasn't been a real home for years. At least, not to me.

We walk to the door and I fish my keys out of my book bag. Eli taps his foot in waiting. The lock finally clicks and I fight with the door, tugging on my key. He touches my hand.I look at him but he rolls his eyes and makes a "move aside" gesture with his hand.

He silently hands me the key and we climb the stairs and enter my room as we always do. He sits on my bed with his hands in his lap. I notice they are shaking and try to pull them to me, but he yanks them out of my grasp.

"I told you I was sorry Eli." I sit next to him, trying to search his dark eyes for the love they are supposed to hold for me. Nothing. "I went a little overboard on trying to help you. I know we are supposed to do these things together." Silence. "I love you." I try, hoping to elicit a response from him.

"I love you too." He says dryly, not looking into my eyes. Okay, not what I had hoped for.

"Eli, please look at me." I try to cup his cheek but he turns his face farther away from me.

"Why should I?" He sneers in a hostile manner.

"Because I'm your girlfriend and you're supposed to love me!" I feel myself reach my own personal boiling point.

His head rears towards me and he sees the angry hurt resonating in my clear blue eyes.

"Do you know what it feels like to have something of mine thrown away?! I know you do! I've told you! You know it feels like I'm going to die!"

"I'd never let that happen to you. You know that." I stand and feel myself begin to shake like an angry, wet cat.

Suppress this, this hatred

I stand beside you while you soak it in

spit on me, I taste it

I love you more and you just fake it

I want you more and you just fake it

"I bet you'd be happy," He spat. "you wouldn't have to deal with my manic episodes, my hoarding, my bipolar disorder. Everything would be perfect for you."

"Don't you ever fucking say that again." If I was in the laughing mood I would have chuckled at the shock that spread across his face in response to hearing me swear. "You know I love you. Any you know that I don't give a damn about any of that shit."

"Prove it." As he crossed his arms, challenging me as he said the two words, I saw his eye glimmer with another raw, intense emotion.

Despite our anger and the tension between us, I felt myself feel the same need he did. It filled my body with heat, pulsing at the very core. In a near split second, I had pushed him quite a distance up against my pink bedroom walls. I had slammed him into it hard enough to rattle the pictures of me and my long forgotten elder sister.

His lips found mine, and that only fueled my desire. It made me angry and horny at the same time. Why would he be kissing me? After all the hell he put me through today for trying to do something nice for him. My fingers laced themselves in his hair, pulling at the hairs near the base of his scalp, maybe a little too hard. Well, I pulled hard enough to make him yelp and break our kiss. No matter, my lips found his neck and I tasted the salt on his skin from the day's sweat.

I felt his hands move from the small of my back to my waist. From there, they slithered up my torso and he hurriedly began unbuttoning my blouse. I attacked his lips again hungrily, not caring that my short cinnamon curls bounced about our faces. He pushed my shirt down my shoulders and I copied the action with his leather jacket. I pulled him closer to me, feeling his warmth buzzing over me bringing on the literal sensation of being hot and bothered. My body tingled with anticipation feeling him so close, our bodies so tightly pressed together. Deciding he was still too over dressed, I pushed his shirt up his abdomen feeling the warm muscles contract beneath my skin. I broke our kiss to discard this shirt, the one that advertised for his favorite band, Dead Hand.

There is always something wrong,

There's always something I didn't do

There's always something I'm afraid I'm gonna lose

There's nothing I can say,

There's nothing I can do,

No matter how hard I try I wake up next to you

I paused for a minute to admire the way his silver guitar pick necklace dangled on his bare, muscular chest. When my eyes moved up to meet his, the hunger in them was so evident, so full of need, I felt compelled to be with him, skin on skin, as I had countless other times. He grabbed my hips, pulling me towards him, letting his hands glide over my behind. He moved his hands farther south, reaching the bare skin below my skirt and once his hands reached this destination, he pulled the material down my legs and detangled them from my feet. His fingers slowly skimmed my calves on their trip back up, pausing at the backs of my knees and suddenly I was pulled up into his arms and my legs were wrapped around his waist.

He walked us to the bed and lightly tossed me on it not in a way I wasn't used to. Later, now that I think about it, this is how we end up most times we are getting intimate. We hardly ever make love. Just something, an argument, drama, stresses us out causing us both to break and be filled with an intense and immediate need that is almost too powerful for us to control.

I think once we even hooked up in our school's boiler room. I'll admit that it wasn't my finest hour... or two. I felt like the cross I wear proudly on my neck would burn right through my skin, still flushed in the afterglow of sex. I mean after the events that occurred between Eli and I in that already steamy room, I wouldn't have been surprised if the Good Lord would have tried to smite me himself.

Eli crawled on top of me and had my bra off, wasting no time, with each of us needing to feel the soothing touch of each other's bare skin. He palmed me roughly while I paid no mind, trying to loosen his belt buckle. Because of the fact that he was wearing his favorite pair of black skinny jeans, I had to take his belt off or his pants would remain on. Once the piece of (also black) leather was free in my hands, I tossed it to a still undetermined place in my room.

I shimmied his pants down as much as I could and pushed them the rest of the way off using my feet. Seeing that much of his skin made me realize how much of mine was exposed. I was only laying beneath him in my baby blue lace panties. At least I wasn't wearing Spiderman boxers like my stud muffin boyfriend hovering above me. Without a moment of hesitation, he ripped the lace down my smooth milky thighs and I believe they ended up on my lamp, then in Eli's back pocket when he left.

His fingers came to rest on my hips and I was jerked toward him. They ghosted inward, along my thighs when I stopped him. "No foreplay today." I pleaded. "I just, I really need you." I felt him fumble above me and Spiderman was discarded onto the floor.

I shrieked loudly when his hips finally jerked forward and he plunged into me. My nails clawed down his back, silently begging. His hips slammed forward once again, and I felt a familiar pooling sensation in my lower abdomen as he began to create and erratically paced rhythm, pushing us both to a very animalistic state, the sounds we make, not our own, the movements were pure instinct, natural.

I screamed his name when I fell over the edge into pure bliss then his hips rolled forward once more and he spilled his very essence inside of me.

We positioned ourselves under the covers and he cuddled up behind me. "You are so goddamn lucky I started birth control."

"Oops." I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"I'm sorry about earlier, I really am." I said honestly. "I won't clean without you ever again. No woman's work for me." I joked.

"Does that include showers?" He whispered into my ear in a way that made me shiver. But I scoffed and smacked his chest. "Okay, I'm kidding. Kind of. But I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have freaked out on you like that." He nuzzled his face into my neck, almost like a cat. "I love you."

"Forever and always." I whisper and fall asleep during the now sunny afternoon.