Printer Boy (Connor Murphy x Fem!Reader)

10. Kiss?

THREE MONTHS LATER (definitely not cuz im lazy and forgot everything that happened)

Connor and I had grown close in the short time we had known each other. I began to notice little things, like the way his eyes were slightly different colors, the way his hair frizzes up in the mornings (despite his insistence on not brushing it, I made him sit still while I brushed it for him), how his whole face lights up at the slightest mention of anything he was truly interested in.

I've sat on his bedroom floor and listened to his rants about Wicked, and Hamilton, and pretty much any other broadway show you can think of. I've watched him ration his weed for weeks, even suffering from withdrawal, so he could buy two tickets to the Book of Mormon, one for each of us. I've seen his artwork, the intricate ballpoint pen masterpieces filled to the brim with emotions that can't be spoken aloud. Yet, despite all of that I don't really know Connor.

We hadn't spoken about The Attempt™ once. He never told me in depth why he had tried to do it. I never asked. How can I know someone so well, yet not know them at all?

All of these thoughts fill my head on this Tuesday morning, my head resting in Connor's lap, a joint pressed between his index and thumb, an earbud in my ear, an earbud in his. We do this a lot, sharing joints, listening to music, sitting in comfortable silence. We're supposed to be in class. Instead, we're at some abandoned apple orchard in the middle of nowhere.

"What're you thinking about?" His voice is hoarse from the weed as he passes me the joint.

"Marijuana is a weird word." I say thoughtfully, taking a long puff.

"Puff, puff, pass, motherfucker." Connor chuckles, reaching for the joint. I laugh and roll away from him, hoarding the joint for myself. The earbud dangling from my right ear is ripped out, making me wince slightly.

"Fuck you, go get your own." I flip him off with one hand, taking another puff with the other, still laying on the grass.

"Come back~" He whines, pouting slightly.

"Make me." I say, inhaling again. Before I can even exhale, he's on his feet, tackling me so that we both roll down the hill, the joint tumbling out of my hand. I let out a very stoner-ish laugh, before becoming hyper aware of Connor still on top of me.

"Fuck it." He says quietly, pressing his lips to mine.

Connor's POV

Holy. Shit.

A/N

lol this is so short this story is falling apart lmaooooooo

also apparently 25 people are reading this but i feel like wattpad is lying to me so uhhhhh 

don't be a silent reader comment/vote pls i'll give you a slushy

-vale