Sorry for the retarded delay! Thank you for all the lovely reviews! I went with Juice-box-girl's idea, so, lots and lots and lots of thanks and magic cookies for her!
:D

Enjoy..

My eyes had started to adjust to the darkness and I could see the outlines of the furniture and various objects around my room. As I forced myself to keep my eyes fixed on the door, I resisted the urge to bolt. The outline of my door opened all the way, letting a small amount of light in from the hallway and with it, the shadow of someone.
I bit my lip. Someone? No, I was kidding myself. It was obviously Patch.
I held my breath, the suspense killing me. He hadn't moved in at least half a minute.
Okay, that's it. If he doesn't move, I will.Without a second thought, I leapt over my bed, wincing at the thud I made when I reached the other side. Almost running into the wide window, I fumbled with the latch, my hands shaking with fear.
Before I even had a high hope of unlatching the lock, a pair of strong arms snaked around me, grabbing me by the waist.
It didn't even occur to me to scream as he turned me away from the window, my flailing arms and legs not even fazing him. "Let me go!" I cried as I finally found my voice, even if it did crack halfway through 'go.'

To my surprise, he did just that. I stumbled, not expecting to be set free and fell on my butt next to my bed.
I glowered as he laughed, bending down so he was leaning on the balls of his feet. I was tempted to lift my leg and tip him over but I restrained myself.
"You sure do overreact, angel. I'd never hurt you. Besides, all I want is to talk."
I could see almost everything in my room now, especially the way his dark eyes bore into me, as if he could see right into my core. As much as I fought it, I knew that he would always find a way to make me vulnerable. That part didn't bother me, really.
The disturbing part was that deep down, I knew I liked it.

"You sure are an asshole," I retorted, still shaking with silent fear and anger. I wasn't in the mood for his games. Especially considering how paranoid I was about the ski mask man. "Get out. I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now."
I started to pick myself up off the floor, determined to get him out of my house but one of his hands was suddenly on my shoulder, pushing me back down to the carpet. It wasn't a rough action, just unexpected.
With wide eyes, I ignored the blush that spread across my chest and up to my cheeks as he hovered over me, his dark eyes smirking.

I opened my mouth to say something but found I had no words for this situation. Two of his fingers were at my jaw line, pressing into the veins with a gentle pressure.
"Your pulse says otherwise," he said dangerously, moving the fingers to rest just above my heart. My chest moved in time with my ragged breaths, giving him inspiration to keep talking. "Not to mention, you seem a little out of breath. Is that because I take your breath away?"

Normally I would have rolled my eyes at such a cheesy line but the way he was looking at me rendered me to silence and paralyses. All I could manage was a weak, broken attempt of a laugh.
I looked away, feeling my cheeks grow hot. Dammit, I hate him.

"Cat got your tongue?" He breathed, suddenly straddling my thighs, his legs barely touching me. He was so warm he didn't even have to be pressed up against me to immediately take away the goose bumps on my legs; he replaced them with a different kind.
"More like a rat," I countered, swallowing loudly. Did he hear that? Probably. Being inches away from someone's face makes it pretty easy to hear their bodily functions.

I chanced a look into his eyes, regretting it seconds after. They smirked, smouldering dangerously with that familiar cockiness that he always seemed to have.
"Then what does that make you?"
The question sounded like a trick; answer wrong and have him take it the wrong way, ending with something I definitely did not want... Yet.

"An innocent girl being pinned to the floor by a boy from her class, who, by the way, has a serious unfair advantage over her – all thanks to his ginormous height and stature." I stared right back, daring him to prove me wrong. "Get off me, Patch."

At this, he smirked, immediately letting go of my wrists and hopping up, bowing in a fake gesture of apology.
"My apologies, oh great innocent one." God, I hated it when he mocked me.

I sat up, rubbing my wrists absently. "You're a jerk." I tried not to envision punching him because, as gratifying as it would be to imagine my fist hitting that confident little smile, I knew I would probably walk away with more pain than him.

"And you're a liar."