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❛ My Night Routine ❜

⌗ 1

Riley fixes her hair into a messy bun, which in my head, sounds almost ridiculous—only because her version of a messy bun is absolutely gorgeous. Part of me thinks she does it to be a tease. Which she always is of course.

I close my text book shut and look into her eyes, "Riley, isn't the whole idea of a messy bun for it to be slightly messy?" I questioned.

She pushes her glasses upward so they're back in place, "It is messy. What are you talking about?" She laughed cutely. "It always is."

I shake my head in disagreement, "Well you're terribly wrong, Marsh. No offence. It's the truth," I shrug. "And you're gonna have to deal with it."

She raises a brow and holds both her hands out, "Ok, so what do you suggest I do about it? I know you well enough to know you won't shut this conversation down until you're content."

I feel my smile turn into a mischievous grin. "I wouldn't say it's a suggestion but..." I run my fingers through her dark brown hair and ruffle it just enough to make it messy but not drastic.

Riley turns to the mirror by my vanity and stares at herself for a mere moment before turning her head back to face me. "Well I can't argue with that," She chuckled. "Happy now?"

I nod proudly, "Absolutely. Now your bun is quite literally messy. However, may I add the very obvious fact that regardless... you look great."

Great? Sure. But in reality, she's gorgeous. But I've never mustered the strength to tell her that. Cowardly, I know. But wouldn't it sound more than friendly? Either way, it's not happening.

Riley smiles from ear to ear—the kind that makes my stomach turn into knots. Everything she does makes me want to drive my head into the wall. She makes it seem so easy... and it shouldn't be. But I'm way down the rabbit hole now to even turn it down when it's a well known fact.

Not to her—thank God. But to my friends? It's a headline in the group chat almost every day. Or every hour of the day. It's annoying. But deep down I actually enjoy it. They support it. This.

This terribly one sided crush of mine. This crush that in their minds doesn't seem all that one sided. Which to me, sounds ridiculous. I don't think so. I never thought so. I try my best to stray away from the idea of being delusional or in my head about things. Especially this.

I don't want to get my hopes up. And neither are they. But seemingly enough, they seem quite proud in their endeavours of trying to prove themselves right while I 'sit and try to convince myself otherwise of the undeniable truth'.

But those aren't my words. Those are their words. More specifically... Mara's words. Which is ironic considering the very fact that she has no clue that Mavis likes her back.

Mavis has never once tried to be subtle about her feelings for Mara. At this point in time, I'm well convinced that the whole school knows her feelings. Except Mara.

Mara's  head is under a giant rock. An 'I wish she liked me back' rock. But if she actually tried to remove her head from under all that nonsense, she'd actually realise that Mavis LIKES HER BACK! But she'll figure out soon enough. Hopefully... Surely... in fifty years give or take.