Fox's Glade [M]Macchiato

She bared her teeth in exasperation. "I wanted 'im to look at me!" And he'd ruined her chances. It was easier to blame the male's departure on Anselm's arrival, than it was to choke down the fact that perhaps he'd taken one look at her and had decided that he wasn't interested. Part of her knew, though, that if he had desired her, he would have risen to the challenge and taken Anselm down in a fight. He looked like the sort who could hold his own in a fight- but he'd chosen not to. 

She breathed in the heady scent of his breath. "I said," She said, every bit willing to take the chance, not knowing what the outcome would be. "You. Want. A. Piece. Of. Dis," She enunciated- saying the words now because she wanted to trigger whatever reaction it might elicit regardless of how uncomfortable it might be, only to find that she wished, with each syllable, for the words to be true. 

She knew in her heart that she didn't want him. But she wanted someone to want her. 

She pulled back an instant later and chuffed. "No, you don't. You can't stand me, and I cannot stand you."

But the conviction in her words faded.