Christina x Fem Reader! (15-17 yrs)

"Excuse me."

You frantically look around your room, and you have never been so happy to be in reality.

Loosening your springs, you feel more relieved than ever. Up until you realize you're late for school, of course.

Being even more panicked, you fall out of your bed and you run into the fashion frenzy zone that you call your closet.

"Mismatched... Mismatched... Mismatched... Mismatched..." You whisper to yourself whilst scurrying through a drawer of infinite socks.

Infinite yet not a single one is matching, you are regretting not just getting all-black socks so your life could just be that much easier. But of course, your Y/N! So you always have to take the route that is the most inconvenient to yourself. What type of sick torture is this?!!

Atlas, you finally find the glorious pair of two white socks at the bottom of the drawer after searching for what may have seemed decades.

Without further ado, you slip on those bad boys and rush out the door with a hairbrush in hand. No time to eat breakfast, but what you did worry about was your lunch. Oh well! You quickly brush your hair and slip that pocket-sized hair brush into your back pocket. What a great way to start the day.

You enter your classroom right as the bell rings.

"Well Miss Y/N, you just saved yourself a late slip, go to your desk and take out your science folder for our biology."

You hear Mr. Rogers's reassuring remark, but to you, it doesn't sound very reassuring. More like a warning.

You give him a slight smile, then you quickly sit yourself down on the cold, hard, plastic chair.

There he is again, Chris.

"Sup Texas! That was a real long shot, eh? Almost got your ass whooped by Rogers again!" Chris says mockingly.

You stare at his hair. "Did you dye your hair?" You interrogate him. "That's nice you pay so much attention to me Texas, and yes. I did. I'd figure you would like it since it glows in the sunlight like I'm an angel baby." The colour he was mentioning was a faded yellow that dyed only his roots.

"You look like a pineapple." You rolled your eyes "Do you like pineapples?" You didn't care enough to lie. "I love them." But the tone you were using sounded overly sarcastic to which he raised an eyebrow at you. "Serious." You continue.

"Well then mama mia, not only am I your favourite person, but your favourite fruit."

He drags his words along seductively, sliding his fingers along his desk.

He lowers his voice. "So about that date... Are you still in?"

You scoff, but a little too loud. Mr.Rogers gives you a cold stare, eyeing you down.

You glance at the teacher making sure he isn't looking.

"Hard pass." "Oh come on, one date?" You didn't want to be a friend-zoning bitch, who goes around breaking the hearts of hopeless boys. But you also wouldn't dare kiss his lips. As soft and surprisingly hydrated as they were, they weren't something to lock yourself onto.

The raging monster of the bell saved you. Relieved you take another glance at him.

"Let me sleep on it" and you rush out the door, faster than he can respond.

You go someplace where he couldn't chase you down, and you lean on a locker for energy.

"Excuse me." A voice almost resembling the sound of a dark prince, softly whispers from above you. For such a deep voice, his words came out like butter.

Soft and well-toned.