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𝐘/𝐍
‧₊˚
"Don't just walk away from me!" You utter harshly, fists clenched at your sides.
After the long and expected scolding Professor Ackerman had given the three of you for quote, destroying his lesson—Jean had ventured off to a place that you didn't bother remembering whilst Connie had made move to his dorm room. You followed behind.
"You don't know anything," The boy in black hisses, rushing forward. Rushing away from you.
"That's why I'm asking smart—ass!"
Connie pauses in his tracks, huffing a low and steady breath. "Move." He says, turning around to face you.
"Calm your tits, busybody." You warn, crossing your arms over your chest. The more he fumed, the smaller you made yourself.
"I said move, Y/n."Connie repeats, this time calmer—gentler. Hands in his pockets and all.
"What's your fucking deal?" You snarl, "It's not the end of the world if someone asks where you've been after disappearing for a whole ass week!"
To this—he only shrugs, dropping his gaze in the process, "Why do you care? Like I said, it's none of your concern."
"God forbid I want to have some sort of peace of mind Connie!" You protest, dropping your arms to your sides. "Who knows, maybe you did it to spite me—hoping that Jean would fricking harass me again."
"You're crazy you know that right?" He counters, a distant look in his eyes as he stares you down, "I thought you could handle your own."
You return this gesture—your eyes never leaving his. "You know what—"
"You kissed me!" He interrupts, taking a step closer to you.
You take a step back. "And you didn't stop me,"
Connie inches closer to you again and his nose grazes yours. You could almost count the millimeters between your lips as he whispers, "We kissed, once. You marked me, once. That doesn't mean we talk to each other, let alone care about one another."
"I don't care," You curse, heart racing in your chest as he continues to stare at you.
He blinks, once.
"Good, I'm not in the mood to make any friends."
"Fine, have it your way." You hiss, shoving past him and making your way out of the building.
"Fine!" He retorts from behind you.
"Busybody!" You cry back.
As you strode through the sliding doors leading to the outside-world, the wind that slammed into your face felt as though it was Connie torturing you for having the last word.
"Watch it, bitch." A savage voice spat with indecency in their tone.
Shifting your eyes in the direction of where the jarring voice was coming from, you spot Sasha and her friend Ramona walking into the building that you'd just previously left.
Sasha smiles at you—a daunting smile. One with many, many layers to be revealed. "I'm gonna' fucking ruin you."
Come again?
She winks, "And that's a promise."
‧₊˚
"That Sasha girl done finally lost her mind." You sigh, plopping onto Hitch's bed as she got ready for whatever date she was going to this time.
"What'd she do?"
"Her goofy ass is threatening to ruin me," You groan, "and, she called me a bitch!"
Hitch turns to look at you, eyeliner pen in her mouth as she asks, "Was it like bitch in an empowering way? Or in an I hate your guts type of way?"
You click your tongue, "I hate your guts type of way."
Your best friend swerves, now facing the mirror in front of her. She was wearing a tight-fitting navy, blue dress that didn't leave much room for breathing. A colour similar to the boys FootBall Team uniform.
"Who's the lucky guy?" You smirk, throwing one of the matching flower plushies you two had got up into the air.
"No one," Hitch proclaims, her words muffled as the eyeliner pen remains in her mouth.
"Come onnnn, tell me!" You whine, "It can't be that serious no?"
"I don't wanna' jinx anything!" She complies, "He might just be the one."
