#I WHOLEHEARTEDLY AGREE <3 nkfjdfk i LOVE the push and pull so freakin much jndksjnsdk

[ragegrove]

"yeah," tone flat, "i'd paint my ass pink, if i could. i love it that much." billy sarcastically responds before a cattish smirk curls his lips despite all the natural oozing grumpiness. ring clad hand reaching back to lightly swat off her hand for messing up his curls. "well, i didn't say it was an all night stare and stop." he claims, impressed and loathing all at the same time how intuitive and smart she is.

he was too used to the girls who only had air for brains. they didn't usually pinpoint all these things about him so easily, it was clear cindy was intelligent– while that was surprisingly wildly attractive, it was also irritating. his most pet peeve: only because it meant she could see through him. "and how do you know that? because you're my biggest stalker." answering for the palmer princess, what a ridiculous claim when he invites her into his car all the time.

"all the above, but you forgot mötley crüe." he adds, sitting still momentarily, brows pinching in a small crease as she circles around and then she grabs for the hairspray. prepared to swat it away if she uses too much. "so maybe, that means, you failed." all over just one tape, not admitting she's clearly been paying attention and in fact got it all right about himself. frustratingly, another attractive thing.

"oh please, you love pink," cindy , barely holding back a grin as she fluffed his curls just to irritate him. "don’t act like it wouldn’t bring out those pretty little highlights of yours, babe. golden surfer boy and all that." she felt the shift in him, that nearly imperceptible tension curling in his shoulders, the way his breath hitched just slightly when she leaned in close. if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he liked it—this game of his, pretending like he wasn’t affected. pretending like he didn’t feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck when her lips had barely grazed his skin.

"and for someone who supposedly sat down just to stare at himself, you’re awfully impatient," she muses, stepping back just far enough to admire her work in progress. her head tilts, like she’s examining a painting, deciding where to add the final strokes. "starting to think you don’t actually hate this as much as you pretend to... it's almost like you're having fun." she smirks, circling around him, the soft click of her heels against the studio floor deliberate, slow. she reaches out, barely brushing her fingers against the sharp line of his jaw before catching his chin between two fingers—gently, just enough to tilt his head back ever so slightly, to meet her gaze in the mirror in front of them.

"besides," she continues, voice honey-smooth and cool, "i do know you, hargrove. maybe not all the way. maybe not yet." she pauses, just enough weight behind the words to make them linger. "but i do know that if i check under the seat of that camaro, i’m gonna find at least a couple ratt tapes, two metallicas, one scorpions, and maybe—maaaybe—a van halen album if i’m feeling generous.” she winks, letting go of his chin before he can shake her off, before he can come up with another excuse to be so unbothered. she was having too much fun getting under his skin. she flicks the cap off a hairspray can, her smirk widening. her gaze flicks toward the mirror, watching for his reaction—not that she’d ever admit to looking for one. "tell me i’m wrong."