Growling. That's how I respond to everything I don't like. Don't ask me why, After all, it eggs Kaiba on when he calls me a mutt, and it certainly does sound like I'm one when I do it.

However, whenever someone pushes my buttons, I growl.

Just like when he uses Kaiba's dog-terms affectionately, while playing suggestively with my hair and ears. I like it, but I won't tell him that.

Just like when he tells me I'd look damn good in the dog-suit and that I should let him take me while I'm wearing it. It's like the stupid bastard has a secret fetish for animal suits of something.

Just like in class, whenever he passes by me and has the nerve to brush his hand across my ass. He does it so discreetly, though, that nobody but me notices, and so they all stare at me weird forr growling at him.

Just like every time he shoves me back onto the bed a bit too hard and I bounce back. I always manage to flip over in time to land on my hands and knees instead, and he's immediately over me, knowing exactly what I want. What I want never changes after all.

Just like when he slams into my ass at that perfect angle, making me howl and writhe. With my eyes rolling back, on hands and knees and my tongue lolling carelessly out of my mouth as I pant, I realize I look like a fucking bitch in heat and I growl under my breath, making him laugh huskily and simply go at me harder. It gets better every time I do it, and in a wild explosion of passionate climax that takes me over the edge, still growling softly, I fall into his arms.

Then, while we're lying in bed, our eyelids heavy and our bodies tired, I shift and growl again as the pain shoots up my body.

"Asshole…" I growl quietly, digging my nails into his chest.

All he does is smile and nuzzle my hair. The lack of response irks me, but I smile as well, knowing he's asleep by now, and he won't hear it.

I growl anyways, just to hear it. It's how I respond to everything I don't like, and how I respond to everything I love dearly.