"Centipede, I do not know whether to kill you, or… kiss you." Miss Spider leaned in, and her lips met Centipede's cheek. They were soft, and, as he expected, slightly cold, but that might have just been because she had gotten out of the freezing water not too long ago. He felt his face heat up greatly, and could only imagine how much more of a tomato he looked like that day, rather than a centipede. He also remembered, shortly after the entire group had explained to James how much they love him, how he and Miss Spider had danced for a moment, one of the few peaceful times between them. When he took an outside look at himself, Centipede found it amusing that he and Miss Spider were the ticking time bombs of chaos.

He called her "angel fangs" and annoyed Miss Spider the most for a reason. He had gone cherry-red the day she kissed him for a reason. He loved her, and everything about her. The way she could put a bright side to things, despite her dark appearance, the annoyed glares she gave him frequently, the way she smacked him around—even just when she mended a broken thread on her web, Centipede would stare in wonder, being sure no one saw him.

He knew they were complete opposites, though.

She was quiet, he was always loud.

She kept to herself, he was outgoing.

She preferred the moon, he was always looking out for tan babes in the sun.

"Ouch! Somebody pinched me!"

"Sorry, I thought you were the spider."

An offended gasp followed, along with a loud smack.

"Ouch! What was that?"

"Excuse, I thought you were the centipede."

That memory always made him laugh, and then frown shortly afterwards. If she reciprocated his feelings for her, would she have still done that?

Well, he had a thing for her, and he still annoyed her.

But Miss Spider probably tried to fight back simply because she was irritated.

His thoughts of the past were interrupted as soon as his nose itched. Odd. He scratched at it gently, and remembered he was in his room. It wasn't much, but it was all he needed.

Centipede sat on his twin bed, pushed up against the same side of the wall the door was. The floor was carpeted, and each of his shoes had been tossed around, laying on said carpet lazily. It was easier to leave things lying around, rather than having to clean everything up like Grasshopper and Mrs. Ladybug preferred. There was a wardrobe on the opposite side of the room as his bed, one door ajar. The walls were white; he wanted to paint it, but he wasn't sure what color. And he didn't want to have to go through all the work of moving his stuff out, covering the floor, and then putting everything back together. He'd probably cover the room in posters or notes, anyway. That's what James did (only James actually did paint his room--light green--at one point, but that was slowly disappearing under pictures he liked). Next to the wardrobe was a brand new television set, which he and James always enjoyed watching cartoons on. The same went for the radio next to it. Except the cartoons, of course. Occasionally, Miss Spider would come in to join them as they listened to music. He felt so nervous and yet happy at the same time whenever she joined.

He remembered one time when they were looking through different stations to find nice music, and a bit of jazz came on. He liked it, so he listened to it for a bit. James started bobbing his head, and even Miss Spider was tapping her fingers to the beat. She looked very content, and it made Centipede smile. But would she ever notice? No, she didn't feel like that about him.

Suddenly, his hands shook. He was feeling stressed now. Centipede stuffed one of his hands into his pocket, only to find it was empty. Pausing a moment to think, he did the same with the other pocket of his pants. No luck. He grabbed at his shirt, and looked down at the floor of his bedroom. Nothing. He tore open the wardrobe and pawed at the top shelf. He found a small box, and pulled it out, happy he fou--oh, no, it was empty.

"I need... cigar, I need a cigar... c'mon, where are ya?!" He didn't realize he spoke out loud to himself, and dove under his bed, pushing random boxes aside when they didn't have what he was looking for.

"Dammit, I couldn'ta smoked all of 'em!" He pulled himself out from underneath his bed, frowning.

"Centipede?" Miss Spider gently knocked on the door. "Are you well?"

Said arthropod's head shot up and turned in the direction of his door so fast, he cracked it, and boy did that hurt. He was just about to get up when he did that, and tumbled over from the sudden pain, letting out an odd cry that sounded like a dying duck. But he still wanted a cigar, that would help him calm down. Wait, Miss Spider smoked, didn't she? Perhaps she'd have one handy.

"Centipede?" She repeated. "Excuse..." She opened the door to find him sprawled on the floor of his messy room, and he immediately tried to kick a few empty boxes under his bed. He looked back up at her, stone-faced, and stood up, straightening out his shirt. Miss Spider's mouth was hanging slightly open, and she closed it, letting out a small giggle. It wasn't often Centipede heard her do that, and he was wondering if she could see the heat rising to his face.

"Would you like a cigar?"

This was one of those odd silences during one of them fancy shows, where two characters stared at each other, with a couple snickers beyond the third wall, waiting for one character to say something funny. Centipede barely managed a jerk of his head for a nod, and Miss Spider rolled her eyes, drawing a cigar from seemingly nowhere. Centipede took it, and allowed Miss Spider to light it. He sighed in relief.

"Thanks."

She nodded.

"What was going on, if I may ask?" She tilted her head a little, and glanced at his pig sty of a room.

Centipede blushed again, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, heh, I was just thinking about stuff... then I kinda... yeah."

"I... see." She wasn't laughing anymore, but there was that small, shy smirk protruding from the corner of her mouth. "What was it you were thinking about?"

"Uh... well..."

She gasped. "Mon dieu!" Then she smiled. "You have met a girl?"

Could she make this any worse?

"Er, yeah...." He forced a smile, and she pushed her way inside to hug him tightly. He was cherry red now, and awkwardly hugged her back.

"I never thought this day would come!" She exclaimed happily, pulling away. "You have finally met a girl you really care about."

"Well, I've actually known her for a long time, it's just that..." He trailed off, looking away from her. Her smile faded slightly.

"She doesn't know?"

"...No."

"Why do you not tell her?"

"Because... I'm scared of what she'll think of me. What if I mess everything up between us?" He glanced sideways at her, helplessly.

"Well... what is she like?"

"She's... a lot like you, actually."

"I-I would not think any bad thoughts of you, Centipede." He didn't notice she wasn't looking at him.

"But she's... I... well, you have a point." His antennae drooped a little.

"So why don't you go and--wait, what do you mean I have a point?" Miss Spider lifted her head up a little bit, and met his eyes. Centipede struggled for the right words to say, mouth hanging open.

"I, uh, well, it..." He sighed and hung his head. "Did you mean it when you said you wouldn't think anything bad of me? Would it mess up our friendship?"

"Centipede?" Miss Spider tilted his chin upwards to look at him. He gulped. "Centipede, I do mean what I say. Each word." She leaned in gently and brushed her lips against Centipede's, and pulled away to see his awestruck facial expression. She paused for a moment, good and bad thoughts racing through her mind, before Centipede pulled her back, feeling something wonderful inside.

They only pulled away to catch their breath, so they wouldn't drown in utter pleasure, but Centipede felt each second was far too long. Every time their lips met, it was like they were the only two people left in the world, it was like time stopped, and yet passed by so fast. The world could end right there and he wouldn't care, as long as he had Miss Spider by his side, his many arms around her. Independent as she was, he'd be there for her, to protect her, support her--be whatever she needed him to be.

Suddenly, she started laughing.

Centipede pulled away in confusion.

"Spider?"

"Y-your antennae!" She gasped between laughs. He felt giddy every time she laughed, and she was truly laughing now.

She has... the most amazing laugh.

"What about my antennae?" He questioned, reaching up to flatten them.

"They st-started wigg-ling and it tickled!" She started rubbing her hand against the back of her neck. Feeling mischevious now, he reached forward and squeezed his thumb and forefinger on her neck. She cried out again and pushed him away, laughing some more.

"I love your laugh." He couldn't help but grin from ear to ear himself.

She calmed down a bit, and they locked eyes for what seemed forever. He stepped forward again and gave small kisses, there and gone in flashes against her lips. To cease the teasing, she pushed forward and let out a small breath through her nose. Finally, she pulled away, and giggled again, pushing Centipede's antennae back. He pouted, now that he couldn't have fun.

"You are adorable when you pout." She whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her. "I love it. Just like you love my laugh."

"And just like I love you." He said back, voice low and soft. It felt nice to say that. I love you. His words echoed in his head.

They also echoed in her mind, and she hugged him tighter.

"I love you, too."