Request for Frenzydaydreamer11
You were cold to him, he was cold to you. Neither one of you even attempted to talk to the other, and you were ok with that. It was nice to finally have someone respect your choice to work alone and stay quiet as opposed to getting a big group and never actually accomplishing anything.
He was one of those people who could probably tell a life story by a person’s eyes, so you avoided him, as well. You didn’t want anyone involved in your life. Especially the strawberry blonde boy in your fourth period History class.
Thursday was always your favorite day because you had two hours of History class where you could be alone and in silence. You sat in a corner where your teacher had moved you so he could place the students who needed supervision up front. At first, it had been odd not sitting up front like you had chosen to do in all of your other classes, but you quickly learned the benefit of having only one other person next to you.
In those two hours of alone time, you listened to your teacher lecture for a bit before he turned the class loose so they could work on their assignment. You’d finish it with time to spare and would begin your math homework from second period.
“(F/n),” you heard your teacher whisper from above your desk, “Could you and Vlad do me a favor?”
The red-eyed boy next to you looked up, meeting your teacher’s eyes. You glanced back at him, then at your teacher again. “Sure, I guess.”
A relieved smile spread across his old face. “Thanks. I need the two of you to go to the teacher’s lounge and make some copies for me.”
Standing up from your desk, you quickly walked to the door, but waited with a hand on the door until Vladimir had caught up to you. Not that he even attempted to keep up with your quick walking pace.
Groaning, you stopped in the middle of the hallway, pivoting on your heel to see him sauntering with his hands in his jean pockets, a bored look on his pale face.
“For God’s sake,” you growled, turning once more to continue walking, “will you at least try to keep up?”
“Nope,” you heard behind you in his oddly accented voice.
You froze. “What?”
The light haired boy walked past you, not even glancing back. “Keep up,” he chirped over his shoulder.
An angry blush spreading across your cheeks, you stomped up to him, hand landing on the handle of the teacher’s lounge door just as his did. With a dark glare, you snatched your hand back so he could step through.
Trying not to scream in rage when he didn’t even bother to hold the door for you, you just whispered more to yourself than him, “Why are you so rude to me?”
“Because you’re rude to me.”
Not physically reacting to the boy, you carried on with working on what your teacher assigned you to do. “I am not rude to you.”
The boy still had a retaliation. “Well you’re certainly not nice. You never talk to me.”
You pursed your lips. “That’s because I don’t know how to talk to you,” you muttered. “Well,” you cleared your throat, speaking up a bit so that he could hear you, “why does it matter if I talk to you? I’m sure lots of girls talk to you.”
He was spinning around on a stool, but stopped to face you as you turned around. “Because you’re special,” he stated, voice sounding indifferent.
The blush on your cheeks softened, as did your eyes. “W-what do you mean, ‘special’?”
“I don’t know. There’s just something about you that I like,” his ruby eyes flashed up to meet yours, “Not that you’ve given me any reason to like you.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, looked down towards the ground.
You heard something rustling in front of you before a pair of black vans entered your line of sight. Looking up, you saw that Vlad was very, very close to you. His jewel-like eyes searched your contrasting (e/c) ones until he decided he wasn’t going to find what he was looking for. So, instead, he asked a simple question. “Why?” he breathed.
Your own breath caught in your throat and you felt your eyelids flutter slightly. “Why what?” you whispered back.
His thin lips pressed together in his silence before he moved forward, crashing his lips against yours and lifting a hand to cup your cheek. Eyes closed, your hands hesitantly found his lean chest before one slid down to the wrist that held your face against his.
When he broke away, his hand lingered at the side of your face as you panted for breath. His brow was furrowed, and he pushed his lips to yours again, causing you to stumble a bit back with a squeak. Your lips separated a moment later, but his crimson eyes were searching for something again.
A delicate kiss, much softer and sweeter than the others, then ones just like it on your cheek that he wasn’t holding, your nose, your eyelids and your forehead before pressing to your lips a fourth time.
“Why isn’t that enough?” he asked, sounding almost desperate to hear an answer.
Your heart stopped for a moment as you slowly moved your hands up to cup his jaw, smoothing your thumbs over his cheekbones. Eyes closing, you leaned in until your lips were against his once more, but you pulled away after only an instant.
His eyes remained closed and you watched as tiny little shivers shook his body with each of your breaths. “I don’t know,” you whispered, “but maybe that’s a good thing.”