Tell Me You Love Me

25| Argue

Chapter 25: Argue (Brielle's POV)

When I walked back out of the bathroom with my hair down and all my makeup wiped off, I realized that he was already in bed but he was shirtless. 

"Can you put a shirt on?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest. 

"No," he shook his head. "I never slept in a t-shirt until you moved in. I don't want to anymore." 

"Okay," I shrugged, walking to my side of the bed, only to grab my phone. I pulled my flip-flops on. 

"Where are you going?" 

"To the other room." 

"Because I won't put a shirt on?" he scoffed. 

"Because we're arguing! It's all we ever do. All we ever do is argue," I huffed, tossing my phone on the bed. 

"Argue? We argue every time because one of us always refuses to communicate, and most of the time, it's you, Brielle." 

"So what the hell do you want me to do?!" I sat on the bed, crossing my legs and scooting closer to him. "I have never had anyone there for me and now you're suddenly here! I can't just open up to you in the blink of an eye when I've never done that with anybody before, why can't you understand that?" I sighed, grabbing my pillow and hitting him with it. 

He grabbed it, yanking it away from me. 

I moved to climb off the bed but he grabbed my shirt, yanking me back. I clutched the front of it almost immediately because I'm wearing a thin black singlet top tonight with matching shorts. It's a delicate top, it's not meant to be pulled at, and knowing him, he could tear it if he wanted.

"You're not going anywhere because walking out isn't going to help resolve this argument any faster," he huffed. 

"Then what do you want me to do? Sit here and keep arguing with you?" I turned back around to look at him. "Or act like we never argued in the first place and cuddle up with you?" 

"You didn't have a problem doing that this past week. If I remember correctly, there were days where you completely ignored my existence but then when it was nighttime, all you wanted was to be right next to me!" 

"Well, tonight I don't want to be right next to you!" 

"Well, tonight I do!" he snapped back. "You can't control everything." 

I sighed, running my hand through my hair. "Just tell me what you want me to do." 

"Do you remember when you were crying and I asked you that exact same question?" 

I blinked at him. 

"Do you remember what you said?" 

"I asked you to hate me. Are you going to ask me to hate you? Because I have a feeling it won't be very hard to do since—" 

"Kiss me." 

"What?" I scoffed. 

"You asked what I wanted you to do. Now do it." 

"Are you insane?" 

He rolled his eyes. 

"Are you really that desperate?" 

"Maybe I am," he shrugged. "Do it," he demanded. 

"I'm not going to kiss you!" 

"Why? Because you don't want to?" 

"No, because I know you don't really want me to. You're asking me to do that out of spite." 

"It doesn't matter. What matters is what I'm asking you to do." He pushed himself off the headboard and moved closer to me until we were only a few inches away. I got on my knees, ready to slide off the bed but he grabbed my top, pulling me forward while kneeling in front of me, mirroring my body. "Do it," he ordered, his voice lower than it was before, more hoarse and husky too.