A/N: Don't look at me. I'm innocent.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

It was a silly question, to be honest. And the way she'd said it felt similar to being struck on the head with a five hundred ton hammer — blunt, straight to the point, and a huge shock. The question was:

"May I kiss you?"

And he deadpanned.

The girl wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer.

Her bright, scarlet eyes had been boring into his bedroom door for a good three minutes, her hand resting on its wooden surface. She watched as the wooden barrier slowly creaked open to meet with weary steel hues — he had obviously been asleep. He said nothing, as expected, and merely stared at the brunette with his unperturbed features and waited patiently for her to speak. She held off for another three minutes with her smirk-laden lips, before stupefying him with the mentioned question.

May I kiss you, she asked. His face remained blank, although she noticed the way the blue-haired boy's shoulders tensed slightly for a fleeting moment, before quirking a brow at her.

"Drunk?" He asked voice barely audible in the midst of the quiet night. By now the door was wide open, his hands shoved directly into his pockets, monochromatic eyes analyzing her every move. She quietly shook her head in response. "Then why?"

Oh well. Ask a silly question and you get a silly response. Truth be told she had already anticipated this sort of reaction, since he hadn't noticed her feelings despite the numerous signals she'd sent. How dense.

Nevertheless, the girl wasn't one to give up, and was determined to force him to look her way. Right now.

Without further explanation she had pushed the other into his room, closing the door behind her with a click. At the moment, she didn't care if her actions proved to be illegal. What mattered the most was him, understanding her heart's desires beneath the moonlit night. Slowly, she moved forward, to which he remained still. The girl really didn't expect him to move back.

But he had to, eventually, from the way she'd been walking towards him, she showed no signs of stopping even though they were already dangerously close. The boy released a silent oomph upon tripping onto his mattress. Her one knee rested on the bed as she towered over the blunette, her crimson pools searching his face for a reaction.

Again, he deadpanned.

There was something about the way his hand twitched, that made her think he didn't necessarily hate the idea which she'd been implying. Not to mention that way he didn't think to push her aside despite his questioning of her underlying motives. Perhaps this was something he wanted, as well—-and the thought gave her the confidence to ask for a second time.

"May I kiss you?"

The question raised several possible reactions, and his was something entirely uncharacteristic.

He grinned.

And one could only speculate on what happened soon after.

A/N: Told you. I'm innocent.