𝟿. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛

16.3K 544 5.3K
                                    

Here 🐿 have 10k+ words for the lag.

A/N: This is a gentle reminder that this is a slow-burn book. If you are looking for something fast-paced, no drama, where all the characters have their shit together with little to no flaws, I'll be straight up and say that it won't be found here.

Yes, this is a Jean x Reader fic, but it will be a fucking journey. After all, this is just the beginning. We are only nine chapters in, and I have a notebook full of plot... [ almost as juicy as Jean's massive co— ] sorry lol.

Be patient as I build my story. I love you (thanks for 18k reads btw, crazy).

Comment & Vote & Follow!
(Not required, but it does go a long way)

___

The air is thick, full of sullen smoke and building tension, all because you had to take a piss.

Annie's bright blue eyes are piercing your flesh, like daggers, unblinking and unreadable. Lifting her right arm, she brings the lit joint she has set between her pointer and middle fingers up to her lips. Placing it in between, she takes one big deep inhale, the tip burning to ash, a burst of orange and red.

She exhales a large cloud of smoke stuffing up the air while lowering her hand back down to her side. She hasn't said anything else after dropping the bomb of her wanting to talk, and neither have you.

The few minutes you've spent in here have dragged on tediously. It's been nothing but interchanging glances, the quiet wonderment of whose gonna give into the traction first. The silence is as loud and as uncomfortable as nails on a chalkboard.

And you could just about pull your damn hair out.

You can feel yourself begin to itch in the tense silence. Growing uncomfortable with the way that it's making you feel, you decide to swallow your stupid pride and break the ice. Your anxiety can't take this shit for a moment longer.

"You said you wanted to talk to me, so talk," you finally voice. "I'm assuming that you're not wanting to hold hands and reveal to each other our deepest darkest secrets, so why are you here, Annie?"

Your tone comes out a little bitchier than you were aiming for, but who are you kidding? You're stressed the fuck out. It's highly doubtful that she chose to come in here to make nice with you. You've tried being friendly to her before, and she was having none of it.

Annie studies you for a few seconds more, chewing harshly at the skin on the inside of her cheek; then, she lets out a sharp sigh. "Okay. All bullshit aside, I don't really know where to start. I'm not really the type of person who does this sort of stupid crap."

"Does what?" You respond to her with suspicion, trying to figure out exactly what she's trying to get at. "Smoke in a dirty ass Sonic bathroom with a girl you have barely ever talked to?"

She heaves out a dry laugh. "I was going to say try and make friends with someone, but I guess that works too." She lifts her hand back up to her face, inhaling another long drag. The smell of the weed is vigorous, coating the inside of your nose.

Your eyes widen with astonishment, a little bit shocked by her confession. This is the complete opposite of anything you were expecting.

It looks like you were full of pessimism for nothing—typical over-thinker shit.

You relax your shoulders out and unclench your jaw, which has been exceedingly tight from you biting down on your teeth. "You're trying to make friends with me?" You ask her, looking for verification.

𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢Where stories live. Discover now