A/n: This is dedicated to Lani (BeautifulxxDisasterx) who celebrated a birthday October 17th. Lani-- I'm sorry this is so late!! And I'm sorry it sucks!! I'll post something else later to try and make up for it. To everyone-- thank you for clicking this! I hope you enjoy it and please leave your thoughts!!

Why are you looking at me?

Stop it. Stop looking at me. Jerk. Bastard. Asshole. Idiot. …Man-whore?

I should just hand you a dictionary and let you wonder what I want to call you. Spoiled. Conceited.

Aw, come on, you aren't fooling anyone! Really, you aren't!

...except the swooning woman to your right. Well, she probably just didn't have breakfast or something.

Stop smirking at me!! Egocentric. Annoying.

"Come play with me."

What the HELL?! How dare you even dare to ask me that! And stop suggestively raising your eyebrows! What the hell are you playing at! Disgusting! Pervert! C-- oh it's the line. I forgot.

"CUT!"

Aw, dammit. I guess my eyes did widen a little too much. Are you still allergic to pepper? I actually have a packet in my purse right now.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up, mister! Where are you going? Oh. Water fountain. God, you drink so slow. Hurry. Up. Move faster! Hahaha. Faster. Someone would need to tell you that.

Oh shit.

You've corrupted my mind.

Great. You're back. Stop lauging! My facial expression can't be that hilarious!

"You look really hilarious right now."

Okay so maybe it is.

"Alright you two. Get into the zone. Jake, stop laughing. Miley, come back from whatever land you're in. Start going at it when I say go. GO!"

This director is really unprofessional. You know it too. I can tell by the way you're glaring at him and screaming at him…I don't think we'll ever get this scene done. We just aren't compatible, me and you. Never have been. So I don't see why directors insist on forcing us together for love scenes.

Shit. This is the part where you actually have to touch me and I can't do anything to prevent it. Quick. I need a plan.

I have Aphephobia. I'm deathly allergic to the soap you use. If another human being touches me I go into seizures. If YOU touch me I'll drop dead.

Does anyone but you notice I'm taking a step back every time you take one forward? Hopefully not. Maybe the director thinks I'm adding to my character!

…Even though my character is heads over heels in love with your character and would probably throw you against the wall and jump you if she had the chance…

Oh well. They don't call it a round character for nothing!

Oh shit. How did that wall get there? You aren't supposed to corner me against a wall in this scene. The wall isn't even supposed to be here! What the hell?! Where did the wall come from!?

Oh no. See? See what happens when you touch me? You see this? Now I'm going to explode in a bloody show. Thanks a whole bunch you…jerkface. Yeah, I went there.

Discombobulating is mean. So stop doing it. Why are you frowning? You should be happy you have me reduced to putty in your hands. Yeah, I know. The effects of my stupid heart are just so confusing.

You're dumber than I thought if you're confused. Dummy. Stupid.

Why are you sad?! This makes no sense! This scene is not a sad scene! Well for me it is because I have to see you half naked…but other than that it's not! So stop looking sad! And Mr. Director Guy! Hello?! Stop the scene please! It's not going even near the script!

Okay. That's good. You took your hands off me. This actually helps. Ah, yes, this is better. I like being able to stand up. Standing up is fun. I never actually kn—noooo. And back to not being able to support my own weight it is! Why are you holding my arms? Didn't we just go through this? Your hands plus my body equals extreme weirdness.

"You…you want to leave me don't you?"

Oh so now we're improvisation-ing! No wait that's not a word. Hm. Improv-ing? That looks like improving. Even the English language fails my mind at a time when my body is feeble. Curse you English! I'm going to move to Belgium and become a manicurist.

Why. Is. The. Direc. Tor. Letting. You. Do. This.

"Who wouldn't want to leave you?"

Oooh, smackdown! That was a little meaner than I had intended. Shame on me. And those people in Canada who club baby seals.

"You love me."

Pshhh. Okay, if that gives you meaning to your stupid life than go ahead and think that. Just because when you look at me my heart beats faster, and my knees go weak, and my stomach feels all lightish and shit, doesn't mean I love you. And you know what? Just because your touch makes me collapse to the ground like a paraplegic, and and and your smile makes my brain feel like I've just inhaled like eighteen gallons of weed, and sometimes when you come near I have to pinch my palm so hard it freaking bleeds just to keep from smiling….yeah, all that definitely doesn't mean I love you in any way or form.

In fact, I hate you.

Stop laughing. I'm being serious. I. Hate. You. More than I hate asparagus. More than I hate California. More than I hate that ugly color called Eggplant that ruins the whole pack of Crayola Crayons.

"You're so cute when you're angry."

Don't call me cute dammit! I don't need your compliments!! I tell you this and you don't even seem affected by it.

No! Don't do that! Stop. Coming. Closer. Why would you do that?! Yeah, that's right. You hold me up. Don't look surprised that I almost fell to the ground. What else do you expect when you press yourself up against me like that? Stop smirking. This means nothing.

"Why do you lie to yourself?"

I don't lie to myself. Hmph. I don't. I don't. You lie to me by saying I lie to myself. Liar. Meanie. Satan.

"I bet you're lying to yourself right…now…"

Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh my geez. You should back up. If God wanted your nose right against mine he would have made us like that.

Hey! Get your hand off my chest! Perv! Stop feeling my heartbeat! You don't have that…privilege?

"I make your heart beat so fast."

You wish. I just have heart palpitations.

Stop. Stop grinning so cheekily you self-absorbed person. Gr. Yes, I did just growl at you. And not in a sexual way. You just wish it was. Loser. Desperate. Obnoxious.

"If you don't love me I'll walk out of your life forever." How do you get your eyes so intense? I want to learn how to make someone's soul feel like it's being uprooted from just my gaze. Because anyone can do it. Because I don't love you. I'm scared to love you. You hurt me.

"Just tell me if you don't."

Why is your voice so soft and sad? It makes my heart ache. Don't do that to me again.

"I…"

Stop looking so broken. Stop making my heart bleed. Stop hurting me. Stop making your pain affect me. Stop me from loving you.

"I love you." I say.

A brilliant smile breaks out on your face. Beautiful, gorgeous, perfect.

You turn us so your back is to the wall and you're holding me to you. Your lips are extremely close to mine. And I think stupid things like the location of the Mason-Dixon Line and how many dashes of salt makes the perfect bowl of popcorn.

"I love you," Your voice is like silk. Smooth, relaxing, home. "Those are fighting words."

This time I smirk. Fighting words.

"You have no idea."

I don't just love you.

I'm in love with you. Even though you're just going to hurt me again.

Love, joy, heartbreak.

Those are fighting words.

"Uhhh...CUT?"