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He looked startled by the coldness in her eyes. His hand fluttered almost nervously before his hands landed helpless in his lap as he knelt at her side. "Are you mad at me?" He asked helplessly.

"Oh, really? Well, you had me fooled." He sighed dryly. He stood, pacing, actually seeming nervous. "Then you're...disgusted? Unhappy? Really not liking me right now?" His voice became higher pitched as he became more and more nervous.

Ovaan watched her with an unreadable expression. Her tears caused something in him to break. He knelt in front of her, his expression and mannerisms suddenly nothing but gentle and tender. "No...don't cry. I didn't mean to hurt you..." He gently took her face in his hands, wiping her tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and drawing her nearer, his eyes a deep, sad blue. "I fixed you all up." He reminded her, almost desperately. His obsession over whether or not she liked him suddenly became far more real, and more important to him. He saw so few people in his life that the thought of this one -perhaps the only girl he'd been anything like close to- not liking him turned a whole part of his world against him. A feeling of overwhelming despair was quickly settling on him, a despair like nothing he'd ever felt since his first years of utter aloneness, just him and Itm when he had been much younger. He'd gotten use to the loneliness. But now it was suddenly too much. He was desperate for affection. He didn't want her to hate him.

"I want you to like me." Ovaan whimpered. His eyes swirled a dark purple. "Please don't hate me." He begged, like a little child. Rejection was like a storm on the horizon, and he watched it with apprehensive fear. He coulnd't take any more rejection. And it was all her fault. He'd been fine before she'd come along...but, somehow, he couldn't turn his helplessness into anger. Overwhelmed, he pulled her closer, and out of nowhere kissed her gently on the lips.

He realized suddenly and with surprise exactly what it was he was doing. He'd read about kissing, and heard about it, but never...he never realized that kissing required more than the lips, or that it would be quite so exciting. Or that he really wouldn't mind doing it. And suddenly, now that he had her, he didn't want to let her go. Mindful of her back, he placed his hand carefully on her lower back, below the burn, and gently pulled her closer, his tentative kiss becoming deeper, his other hand moving up to tangle in her hair, drawing her even closer.

He remembered out of nowhere that she was probably still mad at him, and apologetically pulled his mouth from hers. He released her, nervous, waiting for her anger. "Did...I do it right?" He asked, surprising himself with the question. He hadn't really meant to ask her that. It had just come out, and now there was no recalling it. He kept his eyes on her lap, embarrassed and ashamed of himself, bracing himself to be screamed at.

His heartbeat sped up as she relaxed into him. She wasn't mad? She...liked him?! Still? Somehow the adrenaline cleared his head a little, a feeling like seeing clearly after being in a fog for a long time. She felt so...warm. He felt strange. Excited. But that made no sense. He only felt this way when it was night, and he was afraid, of pain. Of It. And he also felt...calm? How could you be calm and excited at the same time?

"Am I...allowed to...do that?" He asked. "Again? Just one more time?"

He smiled a lop-sided half-smile, gently taking hold of her chin, pausing a moment to try to sort through his tattered emotions. He finally gave up, pressing his lips against hers just one more time. Kissing was like a high, a suspending of reality. He loved it. He wanted more.

Feeling oddly brave, he slipped his hands into the open back (or front) of her open shirt, grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her into his lap, drawing her closer, exhilarated by a possessing desire as he deepened the kiss, almost desperately. He moved his hands forward, ripping the last button at the bottom of her shirt as his hands slid to her stomach, exploring. He took the ends of her shirt and pulled them to the front, holding them there so that only her arms holding onto him were keeping her shirt from slipping right off. He wasn't brave enough to go any further than this as far as her clothing was concerned, but he did move one hand (leaving the other to grip her shirt), up to her face, gently forcing the kiss to last as long as possible as he held her. When at last he could breath no longer, he released her mouth from his, reluctantly, though he made no move to let her out of his lap as he caught his breath, green eyes studying hers intently, his chest moving heavily with his breathing. "That better?" He asked, his voice a breathless whisper. He somehow seemed like a completely different person as he knelt there, keeping her possessively in his lap, holding her pitiful excuse of a shirt so that it revealed as much skin as he could bear, and likely as much as she'd ever shown anyone, considering that her entire back and most of her stomach was now revealed to him, and looking ever-so-willing for another kiss.