Oh, Baby!
Kitten Glares.

It's amazing how quickly things can go from bad to total shit-storm (yes I, Sonny Munroe, am quoting Zombieland with no shame. Besides, said quote holds true in some aspects.)

Take into consideration that I may or may not have (oh God, someone kill me, I can't believe I'm actually saying this) feelings for a certain person that I hate. Hypothetically speaking of course. Now factor in that this person (whom I detest, ahem!) and I were raising a child simulator together for the next week. Add me, currently living in hated-person's house (a problem I now see was never necessary in the first place, but it was Chad's - I mean hated-person's! - idea). Add him to the equation, with his cute little gestures and the prolonged looks he gives me - it wasn't my imagination, I swear!

Now, just for our fun hypothetical purposes, let's add the fact that he and I nearly kissed and la-di-da, I was just going to ignore the voice in my head that said I wanted to kiss him. This is all hypothetical though, of course. Clearly.

The thing about hated-person is that he could be the most infuriating person to ever walk the Earth. In fact, most of the time, he was. Most of the time, I wish we lived in Zombieland just so I could feed him to Shakira. But then there were these other times...

Ugh, why does he have to go around acting all incredibly cute and stuff? It's really putting a damper on my hating him. I don't think you're supposed to want to cuddle with your mortal enemy.

And all those freaking people on Twitter had to go and plant the idea in my head that maybe me and him could start a relationship. They certainly wanted us to. So did Dakota (or at least, her father did.) There was that percent, however small it may be, that it could work between us. We could hold hands and skip around, strewing rose petals about and singing "I Got You, Babe" as a proclamation of our love (I can't be the only one who thinks of these things when I see happy couples, can I?)

He could also break my heart. He's not exactly known as a loving, relationship-oriented guy. I believe Just Jared labeled him a womanizer. Done with one, onto the next - his motto. "Done with Sonny, onto someone prettier who I'll leave for someone else, and so on. Let's just break poor little Sonny Munroe's heart, then peel off, leaving her in the dust of my exit with a single tear and broken promise." I swear, the way my mind works sometimes is more of a curse than a blessing.

I could take the chance - I could do as they say: live and learn. You see my dilemma, however, is that I'm this really huge coward, so...

"Oh, Sonny, darling!" the devil himself, the almighty he-who-must-not-be-named (not Lordy V) called out. "I am absolutely famished dear! Would you mind fixing me a nice turkey and bow-log-nah sandwich?"

I sat up and stretched from my "nap" that never happened, which is unfortunate, because I was in desperate need of one. Craning my neck back to look at him leaning on the wall, one step up from the floor, I glared. It was a bit hard considering helookedallgloriousandwhatnot - I mean what. "I will not play in to your sexist stereotypes, Cooper," I strongly declared, resisting the urge to pat myself on the back. Sonny Munroe: standing - technically, I was sitting, but we can gloss over that - for the rights of women since about five seconds ago.

His mock-hurt facial expression totally didn't make my mouth go dry, just saying. He placed a hand over his heart, hissing as if I had physically wounded him. "Ouch, Sonny. I am hurt and appalled by your ludicrous accusations. I would never sexually stereotype a woman, and especially not the mother of my child!"

Breathe, Sonny. Try not to giggle insanely at how cute and flirty he was suddenly acting. You are strong, Munroe, keep it together! Deadpan as if he wasn't really, really adorable and you didn't really, really want to kiss him. Alright, Munroe, you are officially insane. Might as well break out the straight-jacket and commit yourself to the crazy hospital. On the bright side, you might just get the room with the padded walls all by yourself as opposed to bunking with a roommate.

Yeah, I'm definitely crazy.

"Not in the mood, Cooper."

"You see, you keep calling me Cooper, which leads me to believe you're PMSing. You can mecklestraight this soon after child birth? I mean it's only been a few days..." he mumbled to himself, tapping his chin.

"Hardy-har," I snapped. See what a little crush can do? It's making me extra mean to him in the hopes of squashing his flirty attitude and making him go back to hating me and we can hate each other and live peacefully. Really, is that too much to ask for?

His expression turned to concern, and he shuffled over to the couch, plopping down next to me. Whoa, heart, you need to relax. I know his body heat and his knee brushing mine is nice, but remember: we hate him, heart. "Does someone need a nap? I'm taking it as you just didn't get any sleep?"

I sighed. He placed his hand on my knee and -

wait a minute.

His hand?

On my knee?

Alright, Cooper. You know you aren't helping me convince my heart that we hate you. My heart has convinced itself that it likes you, and I keep trying to remind ol' hearty that that is insane, but she just isn't listening to me or my brain. Brain and heart never agree. However, you putting your hand on my knee has just given my heart a big amount of hope, and my brain is repeating, "no, no, no, no, no, bad heart!" so if you could just move that hand of yours and we can forget this ever happened, that would be nice.

"How about I take Karma duty tonight? You can even sleep in the guest bed so you don't have to hear her cry," he offers, and by golly, if my heart wasn't doing flips and cartwheels before, it was now. Since when was it a gymnast?

"Chad, no-" I begin to protest, but he interrupts with an, "Ah, ah, ah," and a wag of his finger.

"No ifs, ands or butts. Decision is made."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I whisper, rising from the couch and watching his hand fall into his lap. I march into the kitchen and hear his footsteps trailing after.

"So I don't have to hear you snore tonight."

The dirty look I flashed in his direction made him chuckle. I began to rummage through the cupboards to distract myself and make it look like I came into the kitchen for a reason other than to get his hand off of my innocent knee. "You're the snore-er in this relationship, Chaddy, not me."

"Relationship?" he asks, a curious tone in his voice. His eyebrows are raised slightly, and I quickly turn away from him, feeling a scarlet blush spread on my cheeks. Why, why, why did I have to say that?

"You know what I meant," I mumble quietly.

His steps are slow and careful as he walks up behind me, so close I can feel his heat radiating onto my back. Don't pass out, don't pass out, don't pass out.

He places a hand on my shoulder, and I try not to gasp. I think my lip has begun bleeding from biting it so hard.

"Yeah," he half-whispers in a seductive voice that makes love to my ears. "I know what you meant. What you meant was..." and then in a split second, he removes his hand from my shoulder, licks the pointer finger, and promptly sticks it in my ear.

"Ugh!" I screech, jumping away from him.

"You meant that you're a sucker!" he snickers, and I kick him in the shin before marching off indignantly to find Karma and feed her. Misplacing my child is probably not good mothering, so one can only thank the Lord that Karma's a simulator and not real. Chad's house is big. Losing an actual baby in here...

That would be very bad, suffice it to say.

Once I find her - a grand total of a minute that took - I grab her bottle off the coffee table and begin to feed her, ignoring Chad's wandering eyes from the entrance to the kitchen. I sit in the love seat, sprawled my feet out, and cradle Karma. Every once in a while, I shoot him a fierce glare that I'm sure has him quaking in his boots.

"You should try breast feeding," he suggests, and I nearly fall off the couch at my shock from his comment. Then I remind myself that he is a teenage boy, and teenage boys for the most part are - a) immature. b) immature and dirty-minded. c) immature, dirty-minded and constantly thinking about sex. And while I will acknowledge that girls also think about sex, we have the advantage of hiding our arousal. When guys get all, uhm, happy, it's much harder to cover that up. Girls: 1. Guys: 0.

"Gross pig!" I sneer.

He shrugs. "I was kidding!"

Insert disbelieving mumble of, "Mhm" here. Karma's big-blue glassy eyes peer into my soul and I can't help but think she has Chad's eyes, before I remember that she is a doll.

"Hey, I'm going to head to the grocery store and get some things. You staying or coming?"

"Staying," I opted.

"Alright, I'll be back in fifteen. Anything you need?"

I smirked. "Tampons."

"Ew, Sonny!" he squealed like a five year old girl and my smirk turned into mirthful laughter. He glares and I glare back.

"You're not very good at glaring. You kind of look like a kitten," he comments, and I blush angrily.

"What?"

"Just saying. You're glares are harmless and adorable, like a kitten." He's at the front door, slipping into a pair of Nike's and grabbing a jacket off the coat hanger. "Be back soon!" he calls out, shutting the door behind him.

He's gone. I can breathe.

Did he just call me adorable?

How 'The Social Network' Should have Ended:

Eduardo: "They're saying we stole The Facebook!"
Mark: "I know."
Eduardo: "So did we?"
Mark: "Why don't you feed your chicken?"

Lololol dying. Oh, and The Social Network? - o b s e s s e d

Let me first say that I really just want to cuddle with Andrew Garfield and Jesse Eisenberg. Jesse is my spirit animal - awkward, self-esteem issues, love of cats... And Andrew? That boy is sex on legs. Mmm, can we all just take a moment to appreciate that Bambi face of his, and another moment to appreciate these lovely jewnicorns.

Also, I ship Mark/Eduardo hardcore. I am writing a fanfic about them too (cough, not-so-subtly promoting my story, go read it, la la la).

And reading all my previous author's notes, it's amazing how much I've changed. I'm still an obsessive fan-girl, but I've also grown. For example, I no longer excessively use smiley faces. I am so ~mature~ (sarcmark). And hey, I have tumblr:

.com/ (if for some reason, the link doesn't appear, I'm putting on my page.)

So yes, welcome to my life v.2.

Thank you guys for reading and staying with me even though I'll go months without updating. I really appreciate all my readers, you guys are pretty freaking amazing.