He's a Fanboy?!

He Invades My Mind

*important a/n; how do you feel the story is going for you? is it too fast, too slow? does it feel like the story is in the beginning, middle or end? feel free to give me constructive criticism. i will be very grateful if you answer (:

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His body presses so close against mine under the computer desk that our breaths mix. All I feel is his forehead against mine, his arms enclosing my body and his hands clasped behind my waist.

Not moving starts to hurt-but we can't move. If we make a single noise, he'll find us hiding. He'll find us crouched under a table, unarmed and unprepared. And he'll kill us.

"Ahh, his arms enclosing my body!" Brayden mocks, terrifying me when he enters the library unannounced. I jump up and slam my laptop closed.

When I turn around, he is smirking.

I can feel that my face is probably red. Never have I let someone from real life read my wattpad stories. Not even my dad. And now that someone has... They're mocking it.

Suddenly the warm feelings from the garden night dissolve into embarrassment and frustration.

"Goodbye," I say as I get up and walk to the other side of the library. When it comes to writing, I'm sensitive. Too sensitive. I know that's awful, but that's just the way I am.

His smirk drops a bit when he sees me turn away. "Wait, wait, wait, I'm sorry."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Brayden, please do not flirt with me."

"I can't help it. I'm sorrrrrrrrry," he whines, grabbing my wrist.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't judge my writing."

"I was not judging your writing."

"You mocked it!"

"I was teasing, stupid."

"Exactly."

"Teasing is different than judging."

I sigh, turning away again. Brayden wraps his arms around my waist before I can escape. "Wow, this does feel nice," Brayden says. "enclosing my arms around your body, I mean."

"You say that like you haven't touched a girl before."

"I haven't."

"Liars go to hell."

"No, I'm serious. Girls have touched me, but I've never intentionally touched a girl."

"Liars go to hell," I repeat.

"Okay, fine. I'm kidding."

"Haven't you had, like, four million girlfriends before?"

"No. One." He says it with finality, so I change the topic. "Can you let go of me now?"

"Tell me your Wattpad story first. And don't try to refuse, you know I'm capable of kidnapping you. Maybe this time I'll just keep you forever." By now I must be the colour of a Coca Cola can.

"Why? To mock it?"

"Annabelle, I want to read it because I'd like to read it. It's like we're going through the English assignment again," he reminds me. I can still recite every word of his compliment. "I like your writing. A lot. Pleaaaaaase?"

I bite my lip, considering it. Maybe this could help me get better? Or maybe I'll end up with the words "died of embarrassment" written on my grave...

"It's called 'This is Not a Drill' and it happens to be fanfiction about one of my many husbands but please disregard that. Actually it'd be great if you disregarded the fact that it exists at all but I don't assume that'll be happening." I say it fast, in hopes that Brayden did not catch the name of my story. But of course he did, because he finally releases me.

"Thanks Elle, you're the bestest friend ever!" he exclaims as he runs like a kid to his phone on the table. I walk back to the table after him, sitting down skeptically after confirming which story it is.

I return to writing my story again, and Brayden is apparently so entranced by my book that he does not speak to me again at all for the rest of the lunch hour.

I catch myself sneaking glances at him every now and then, watching his reactions. I notice that when it comes to reading, he can't hide his emotions.

I smile at the way his eyebrows arch and furrow, the way his brown eyes scan the pages, the way he chews on his bottom lip.

And suddenly I realize now how much I like him.

I like his eyebrows, his eyes, his lips. I like his prominent jawline and the way he does his hair. I like how he gets excited about the same things I do. I like his fandom shirts and the little laugh he gives when he's reading.

I like Brayden Snow.

And then I mentally slap myself, because how cliché could I be; falling for the popular boy just like that?

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It's two thirty in the morning when I start thinking about Brayden again. He is invading my mind.

I'm staring at my laptop in the dark, reading some random Hunger Games fanfiction. I cringe at the awful grammar and close the book. Bad spelling and grammar equals automatic turn-off.

It doesn't matter anyway, I couldn't focus on the story at all. The only books I'd recently been looking at were the ones Brayden had given me on my birthday.

I think about just getting off Wattpad for the night, and I almost do--until suddenly a get a private message. Immediately, I think: Brayden?

But it's not. It's one of my internet friends, and I want to check it but I know that if I do, we won't stop talking until six in the morning and there's school tomorrow. So I don't open it.

I shut off my laptop and slip into bed. Just when I get comfortable, my hands under my pillow, my phone dings all of a sudden. It's the Wattpad ding, and it's probably another private message from that same friend, but I reach over to check it just in case.

Well, it's certainly a private message. Except it's from Brayden. My heart jumps a bit, the way it does when I read romantic scenes about my otp.

My eyes are still blurry and I have to blink to adjust. I turn up the brightness on my phone and unlock it, reading the messages quickly.

yesfanboysdoexist (Brayden): ELLE

yesfanboysdoexist (Brayden): I love you

Wait.

What?

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yesfanboysdoexist IS NOT AN ACTUAL WATTPAD LMAO IM SOSOSO SORRY IF IT ACTUALLY DOES EXIST HAHA

im super duper sorry for not posting on time haHa i hope this makes up for it ? COMMENT how you felt about this chap (:

SO GUYS IM PROBS GOING TO POST EVERY TWO WEEKS NOW until summer but summer for me is in five weeks so dont worry !!!

i love you all & pls pls VOTE!!

-belle