eddie munson - m'lady.

4 - pretty.

eddie's pov:

she looked so pretty sat in front of you. your heart fluttered every time she looked directly at you, which wasn't often enough. as you watched her talking about whatever she was talking about, your eyes were glued to her and you nodded and replied with either a 'yeah', 'totally', 'of course' or something similar.

just keep that pretty mouth moving, sweetheart. you smiled to yourself.

everything seemed calm, maybe it was the joint but this time it was different and all that time, the moment molly's lips met your cheek just kept replaying in your mind. each time, a swarm of butterflies seemed to attack your stomach and nonetheless, they were just as powerful every time. you longed to touch her, not in a lustful way or anything like that. just anything as simple as a gentle stroke of your thumb over her cheekbone.

maybe to be able to hold her close to you, embrace her as she embraces you.

or even a kiss. god. the thought of your own lips meeting hers seemed like it was an impossible idea but it drove you insane. you brought a hand to your face, your finger gently touching your bottom lip.

you wanted her and you wanted her badly. you'd never wanted someone this bad. 

"hey, you look ill. is that normal?" he suddenly said, peering at you as she leant onto her knees and brought a hand over to your cheek.

you suddenly realised all these thoughts had resulted in your cheeks to go warm, blood rushing to them. you were blushing? well. that was new. "no, no i'm fine." you backed away from her touch in hope of not to embarrass yourself further. even if you craved it more than anything else.

she furrowed her eyebrows. "no, you're boiling. go back home. if anything'll make you feel better, it'll be rest. okay?" she smiled, sweetly. 

surprised, you realised how different this girl was. she was normally the cold girl who'd jump from friend group to friend group, never really fitting in anywhere. you looked away from her and shook your head and took your hand away from your face.

"no, i'm just warm. the denim." you smiled and tugged at his jacket. "insulates you and everything, you know?"

she nodded, not really buying it but accepting it. then, she stood up. molly was leaving? already?

"come on, we're going to be late for lunch." she offered her hand, and looked down at you. what? lunch? but it was only 10, right? how long had they been sat there? fuck.

come on eddie, pull it together. "is that just an excuse to hold my hand there?" you smirked up at the girl. 

"shut up, freak." she scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.

"make me, mayfield." you retorted back.

molly raised her eyebrows and began walking away from the boy, shaking her head.

word count: 473