angel eyes // mischa bachinski x reader oneshots, headcanons, and preferences

angel eyes - oneshot

Mischa Bachinski. That was the name called when Mr. Callahan announced our partners for our history class.

Shit.

I hadn't spoken to him in months. It was funny because we'd been such good friends before.

It was true, I did have the biggest crush pp him while we were friends and even before then. I got to see him for who he really was when I got to know him. We hung out a lot over the summer. Around the beginning of the school year, I started getting these signals from him. I'd catch him staring at me while I would work on homework. We'd have long and sometimes deep conversations. Hell, we'd even gone and seen a few movies together. One night, we'd accidentally sat in that diner until 2 in the morning, just talking to each other. It was so far past my curfew that he helped me sneak back into my house through my window.

Eventually, I told him how much I liked him. I genuinely believed that he returned the feelings. I mean, it was pretty clear.

But I was wrong. He told me that he didn't feel the same way. I guess it must've made him feel bad, or maybe confused or even weird. He didn't really talk to me after that.
I mean, I was pretty devastated. I was upset with myself that I ruined our perfect friendship and upset that I was delusional enough to think he actually liked me back.

It didn't quite stay that way, though. I stopped being upset with myself and became upset with him, which is something I never thought I'd do. I realized how immature he was for breaking off our friendship. In some sort of way, he was leading me on and I didn't see it. Moral of the story? Don't look too deeply into what you think is present in him.

Even though I was upset with him, I really missed him. We did have some pretty great times together. He was a great person.

I sat across from him at the table and wrote my name on the packet given to us.

"Sorry."

I looked up. "What?"

"I said that I was sorry. I should not have stopped talking to you and I miss you," Mischa seemed sincere, but it's not like I could tell anymore."

I didn't know how to respond. I clenched my jaw. "Now's not the time to be talking about this. We have a project."

"I mean it, Y/n. I have felt really bad about it for the past few months."

"We'll talk about it later. Would you be able to come over after school to finish this?"

He nodded vigorously. "Yes. Of course, of course."

Y/n, master of procrastination at it again. Not just with schoolwork, but with conversations.

...

That afternoon, I welcomed him into my house and we set up the project in my room. We finished it up pretty quickly, but I didn't have a chance to send him on his way when we were done.

"You can't keep avoiding what I'm trying to say, Y/n, and we both know that."

I bit my lip. "What more is there to say? I know you feel bad."

"Not just bad. I feel awful about it. It would do me good to know if you forgive me."

There it was again. The sincerity that I could swear was there, but could never be certain about.

"I guess I'll forgive you. That doesn't excuse cutting off contact, though. I missed you, Misch. I did even if I was upset with you."

He hung his head. "I know. To tell you the truth, I was scared when you told me what you felt."

"Cool, but can you elaborate?"

Mischa took a breath. "I've never really had a relationship like ours with anyone. I was scared to get attached to you in case you would leave. I didn't think it was true that someone as brilliant as you could like me like that. I don't think we can be friends again."

I was confused. "What do you mean?"

He looked exasperated, trying to find words that weren't there. "This."

Mischa put a hand under my chin and then kissed me. Just a short kiss, but it felt like everything to me.

I couldn't do much afterwards except for stare at him with a look of complete devastation. "Mischa, what the hell?"

It was his turn to be confused. "I thought you really liked me."

"No, I do, it's just- Oh my god, you make things so difficult. I can't believe you just left me for so long. I missed you so much. I was so upset and to think it was for nothing? I thought you didn't like me after that, damn it! I swear-"

I stopped mid-sentence. He moved his hand behind my neck and he kissed me again.

"What in-"

He did it again, cutting off my sentence.

"Will you stop that? It's making it really hard to be mad at you!"

"That's the point, darling."

I stood up, face flushed. "You... You are infuriating!"

Mischa grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down. "Go on."

"And so immature."

"And?"

"I don't like you, Mischa."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Not really," I admitted. "Just promise you won't leave again."

"I promise. Trust me, I couldn't bear to leave you again."