Hating You

❑ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱

It had been a while since you and Rio hung out. The last time was when you walked around your local mall a week ago. Annoyingly, and–supposedly–coincidentally, you'd run into Akabane and his friends. You wouldn't have minded, if you knew, Akabane wasn't there, or if he jsut shut his big yap!

Ahem. He spent the whole time teasing you, poking you in the side when the others weren't looking, and when your group of eight said down, Rio sat by that girl Okuda, forcing you to sit with evil incarnate. Of course, the devil without horns loved every second of your clear uncomfortableness.

The week before–when the air had shifted oddly and he was practically foaming at the mouth because you'd touched some ancient ass cup–had been something you and Akabane silently agreed to never speak of. However, you didn't think that inclined him to be even more of a pest.

Usually, you both did your best to ignore each other, except–of course–for the few jabs and remarks given in greeting, or (a lot of the time) at random. Like the one time, you'd dated some guy for a week before calling it off, or that time Akabane had failed on a test he was so sure he would get high marks on that the didn't bother studying. Oh, how lovely that was, you would not let him hear the end of it.

Neither would their teacher or so you heard. You still have yet to meet the man they so dearly talk about. Sarcasm at its best, but they seem close enough to him, Rio seems close to him, which makes you happy. Very proud, to call yourself her best friend.

The memory slips away as your phone beeps. Rio's message is another flake. You sigh and slide your phone back into your cardigan's pocket. You two were supposed to go to the movies today because she had to cancel last Sunday's.

You brace your back against a wall, quietly biding your time to return to class. You had asked to use the bathroom for the purpose of texting Rio, making sure she was still on for today. Surprise, surprise, she had to cancel, again.

You blow a few strands of hair out of your face, needing a drink. You walk downstairs, toward the vending machine that held drinks. Besides, it was a few carrying snacks, thankfully everything hadn't been cleared out during lunch. You ran your hand along the clear frame of the machine, looking to see if there was still strawberry milk left.

There was only one. Smiling, you reach for the little change you kept in your pocket. Before you can even consider what's going on, clicking from the machine has you stepping back. Your heart pounding in your chest. Your head whips to the side, and there, evil incarnate, smiles.

"Fancy seeing you here." He says, clicking a button on the machine's panel, keeping his eyes cool and steady on yours as they narrow into slits.

"You are such an asshole," you spit venom into those words, and by the frown forming on his face, the message clearly struck its mark, but he merely shrugged.

"I've been called worse," he turned, but then a crooked smile slid on his face and he turned back for a second to say, "probably by you." He turned back and watched the machine gurgle until it spits out his purchase.

"Aren't you suppose to be in class?"

Akabane crouched to his knees in front of the vending machine, "could ask you the same thing."

"How'd you even get in?" Another shrug as he stood, his prized drink in hand.

"How does any great assassin get somewhere they're not supposed to be?" You cocked an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side unconsciously, confused by his words and what it had to do with your conversation.

"Are you calling yourself an assassin?"

His grin was nothing short of arrogant, "wouldn't you?"

You scoffed, "no, and for that matter," you crossed your arms, eyes scanning him, his hands, the drink in his hands, WHAT THE HELL!? Your head whipped to the side again, this time, scanning for the last strawberry milk in the cluster of drinks. "You-"

You cut yourself off upon seeing the smirk that crossed his features. You always thought it a pity that his pretty features were possessed by someone so sadistic. Now, though, you were barely keeping yourself from clawing those pretty features, heart pounding in your chest. This time, not from being frightened, or from that weird feeling, but "out of patience-ness".

"You look like your about ready to pounce," he said, taking a step back, "I think I'm gonna go-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence because you were upon his in moments. "Give. Me. That. Drink. Akabane!"

He held it up, grinning down as you pounded his chest for the drink. "Or what?" With each step, he backed up. Further and further toward the office.

"You–you–" You were at a loss for words, so annoyed, so utter outraged at what he did, how it got by you so fast. Assassin, he'd called himself, more like a sneaky little bastard!

"Revenge." He said with another crooked smile.

"Uh-FOR WHAT?!" You raged, moving faster.

"For drinking the last of my strawberry milk."

"How do you know it was me?!"

"Who else would have done that?" He looked at you incredulously.

You gawked but continued to reach for the drink, "fine it was me. But you could have just bought more. Why hold a grudge–" you grunted, trying to keep up with his pace, "pretty childish of you." You smirked at him, though you knew sweat dripped from your forehead.

He sighed, picking up his pace, even as he moved backward, "isn't that the part you like about me?"

"Ha, funny."

You heard more than saw his grin, "sarcasm, my favorite quality about you."

Akabane turned his steps, and instead, went in a fool circle, never breaking his gaze. You continued to follow him, making snatches at the drink he so carelessly held in the air. You continued this performance for a while, up until you heard a clacking of footsteps. For a second, you both broke each other's gaze to see where the sound was coming from.

You were sure his eyes found Asano's as soon as yours did, possibly even sooner, you turned your eyes back onto his. Meeting his eyes again, you're turned from outrage, his from devious, to shock. Quietly, you both walked away, you leading the two of you, from somewhere unknown.

You found a broom closet, opened it–thanking your gods it had been left unlocked–and pulled Akaben inside, without so much as a peep from the boy. Apparently, your mutual dislike of the principal's son resulted in terming up, even if just for a moment.

The closet was big enough for you to move around, but barely. You secured your spots, even if you were close enough to head but his-I mean, share breath. Why would you want to knock him out? In this situation, you're supposed to want to kiss, to touch, the other person. As you looked at Akabane though, you found it hard to reason why teenagers liked being forced into a situation like this.