"Oh, hell no." Your roommate cackled as she stood beside you, looking around your desk.
You turned to her, "Should I be worried?"
"Well..." she pursed her lips, "he is a bit of a menace and popular at that."
You snickered, "Ooh, scary."
"Just..." she trailed off, "be careful."
You chuckled and continued writing your notes, "It's not like I'm gonna hang out with him. It's just... peer tutoring."
She walks over to her side of the room, "Whatever you say, babe. You're a big girl."
You watched her from the side before speaking, "So, you're friends with him?"
She hummed, sitting on her bed, "Same circle but we're not close," she gasped, "You know, this might actually be a good thing for you!"
You gave her a questioning look, "Elaborate."
"It's your senior year. Live a little! I'm sure he could help you with that." She grins, her eyebrows dancing.
You huffed, rolling your eyes, you continued writing, "I am living! And like I've said, just tutoring." you reiterated.
That was the plan.
So why on earth—so early in the morning, in an empty study lounge—is your back pressed against the door by Nagumo with his tongue down your throat?
You place your hands on his chest as you try to push him away but he's so much taller and stronger than you. You feel him smile against your lips. This insolent prick.
He leans down to your level with his hands cupping your cheeks. He's so careful not to strain your neck. His gentleness made you give in, you let yourself melt into him. His kisses were soft and slow, it tasted sweet—chocolate? Oh, those coated biscuit sticks.
He always had those on him. You want some?
No, thank you.
Why not?
Not that you didn't like it. But for some odd reason, you were hellbent on not having that scent on you— his scent, to be exact.
You have a keen sense of smell and upon meeting Nagumo, it blurred the line between it being a blessing or a curse to you. He always smelled like chocolate: when he walks in and sits across from you, when he opens his bag, when he talks to you—
And also that time when you spaced out and watched him eat the thing slowly, the way it lingered on his lips before he took a bite, the way he licked his lips. But he then smirked and you were flustered that he caught you shamelessly staring.
Now you could taste it. So much for not trying to smell like him.
He gives you a moment to catch your breath. Your eyes flutter as he starts trailing kisses down your neck. His hands running down from your shoulders to your wrists, taking the straps of your backpack along, he drops it to the floor. And when he intertwined his hands with yours, your brain nearly shut down.
"We shouldn't do this." you pant.
He chuckles breathily against your skin, "You're right, we shouldn't." he murmured. But he doesn't stop— biting off the button of your blouse, he takes it from his mouth and puts it in the back pocket of your jeans. He kisses further down your collarbone, leaving moist prints, sighing against your skin.
"I- Ah- I'm serious." you stammer.
He grins, "Mhm, I bet you are." he mumbled, before claiming your lips again. He then takes your hands and places them on his shoulders.
