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A flash of anger glimmers in his eye, just what I wanted. He raises his hand in preparation to give a dose of his anger, but he holds it back.

"You can be such a baby sometimes," I hiss venom twisted through my words like an evil snake. A quick look of hurt appears in his beautiful honey brown eyes, but the sadness is quickly replaced by anger, his strongest emotion.

I bite my lip, I may have taken it to far this time, if there is one thing he hates it's being told he is immature. But the thought of the bliss his anger will give me overrides the guilt of calling my beautiful man a baby.

"You are so immature compared to everyone else our age, I wish you weren't so embarrassing all the time," I lash out again. My words provoking him, like a child trying to provoke a beehive with a large stick.

My love's face crumbles to a look of defeat, but only for a quick second, I would have missed it if it wasn't what I was looking for. I'm getting to him; his anger won't be held back by the dam he is quickly trying to build, for much longer.

“Shut up,” He growls at me, his hand clenching into a fist. His face is stony and cold trying to hide the emotions boiling inside of him. His eyes bore into mine, hurt lingering just behind his momentary hate for me.

“Why?” I ask defiantly, my defiance always raises his temper. He grits his teeth as his eyes narrow into cold dark slits. He takes a step closer to me, and glares up into my eyes.

“You know I hate that,” he hisses, his honey brown eyes now dull with rage. All of his hurt has vanished from existence and been replaced my raw anger.

“Hate what?” I ask innocently, taking a step back. I can feel a smirk creeping its way onto my face; I try to hide it but I can tell he saw it. He pushes me against the wall, grabbing the front of my shirt in his fist. His reaction surprises me; he has never gotten physical this fast before. I don’t mind the quickness of his physicality; it just means my happiness will arrive sooner.

“You wipe that goddamn smirk of your fucking face you little shit,” He barks, his face contorted with rage, a vein practically pulsing in his forehead. I feel my heart rate accelerate, though not from fear, from anticipation. He glares into my eyes his hatred radiating off him.

“I fucking hate when people call me immature,” he lashed out pushing me more forcefully against the wall. “Especially when it’s you.” Angry tears well up in the corners of his eyes. His perfect plump lips twisted into an evil snarl.

“But you are immature,” I whisper, venomously smirking. He raises his hand and strikes me across the face, my skin tingles where his hand hit, but not from any pain.

"That is so you wipe that goddamn smile off your face," he hisses a snarl contorting his handsome face. I can't help but smile wider, angering him even more.

"You little shit," he yells, slamming me into the wall. "You wipe that smile off your face right now, and I'll go off, and forget everything about these last few minutes." I stretch my lips into an even wider grin.

“That’s it,” he shrieks tossing me to the ground. I start laughing, my face is split into a crazed grin, I just can’t help myself my emotions overtake me. My eyes streaming with tears; through my tears I catch a glimpse of my love’s face stopping me mid laugh.

“You little fuck,” he hisses, kicking me in the chest. His kick sends me over the edge, I start laughing hysterically. He sneers aggressively kicking me in the face. I continue to laugh gurgling through the blood pouring down my face.

I close my eyes welcoming more, when no impact of his anger, on my thin body, comes I open my eyes. I find myself alone. I sigh to myself, someday I’ll tell him why I provoke him, but right now, I’m content with my method.