Far From Perfect || Tronnor

8: Progression

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused. I tried to find his gaze, but he kept avoiding my glances. Eventually, he ended up looking at his feet. He looked slightly embarrassed, like what he had said was something he didn't mean to say aloud.

"Well I don't. I know your name, but nothing else. I don't know you," He mumbled into the front of his coat. Written in his voice was a desperate need to sound confident, but it most definitely did not come out that way. I frowned at this. Why was he so embarrassed? Adding to my confusion, under his breath, he said, "But hell, I would love to know you." I knew for a fact that that was something I was definitely not supposed to hear, so I pretended I didn't. But how well can one pretend not to have heard something like that?

"Um... I guess?" The statement came out more like a question, and I mentally slapped myself over my stupidly worded answer. His cheeks were starting to get adorably red. I couldn't tell if that was from embarrassment or just being that down-right cold from the February air. Before I was about to say goodbye to Connor, one more thing ran through my mind. "Wait, how did you even know my name in the first place?"

He finally looked up at me. Smirking, Connor winked. That simple gesture just drove me up the wall. Even before I came to terms with my "crush" on him, I always found that wink aborably frustrating. It was a gesture that could mean so many things. For example, it could be as an answer to my question, or an excuse to answer my question. It drove me crazy when he didn't answer me straight forwardly, something that I later calmed down about.

"Seriously, Connor! Answer the question," I said sternly, but it was obvious that there was a playful undertone to my statement.

"Alright, alright. Calm your tits." I rolled my eyes at this. "I saw your name on your history paper," He confessed. I tried to remember back to that day. I was at the library, but why? To write that history paper Connor was talking about. That actually made sense.

I am sure I looked visibly relieved. That meant that Connor wasn't a stalker after all. Replying to his confession, I said, "How very Sherlock of you to notice such thing." He snickered and gave me a sideways smile.

I knew that he was an awfully straight-forward man, but what he did next was one for the books. "And you, Troye, are like Dr. Watson," Connor said with a smirk, grabbing my hand. "You have a strange attraction to psychopaths like myself. That is something you still need to learn." I stared at him with awe. He looked back at me, and I knew I should've said something, but I didn't want to ruin the moment. It wasn't necessarily romantic, but it wasn't a friendly moment either. Hell, I had no clue what was happening, but I wasn't about to complain.

Sam chose that very moment to interrupt. At first, he just honked the car horn, which caused Connor and I to break our gaze and drop each other's hand. Then, as if he wasn't done calling us out on our awkward staring, Sam rolled down his window and said with a voice seeping with sarcasm and a fail of a British accent, "Connie, babe. Please stop with the flirting. It is burning my eyes to see you stare at someone other than myself for that long. Oh, and do hurry up. My parents will be worrying if I am late." Considering it was barely four in the afternoon, this statement was obviously ironic. Connor just rolled his eyes and smiled at Sam's sudden mood swing.

"Be right there, honey!" He responded. Sam rolled his window back up and leaned back against his seat.

Connor's eyes focused on me again. "See ya around," He said. I looked back at him, and for a while longer we stared at each other in dead silence. No one was making a move to say anything, so the silence continued for minute or too. It wasn't comfortable silence like you are probably picturing. It was the most awkward moment I have ever lived through, which is saying something. Fortunately, the awkwardness was cut short by Connor laughing. Only one thought ran through my head. Usually when people say something like, "See ya around," you are supposed to answer them. But, you know? Fetus Troye was just an expert on making things unnecessarily awkward.