Jenna Ortega Imagines (2)

Confident - J.O

You've always been a little quiet. Not shy, exactly - just... soft. The kind of person who sits in the back of the room and hopes no one notices that you exist, unless they're going to notice you kindly.

Which is exactly why Jenna Ortega noticing you is a problem.

She's bold. Effortless. The kind of girl who walks into a room and turns every head just by being in it. You don't even think she tries. She just is that kind of magnetic.

And somehow, somehow, she's decided to make you her favorite target.

Not in a mean way. Oh, no. She teases. Flirts. Drops casual little comments that leave your brain scrambled and your heart racing. Like she knows exactly what she's doing.

Which, to be fair, she probably does.

Today's the worst one yet.

You're in the middle of chemistry, trying to focus on balancing equations and not the way her knee keeps bumping into yours beneath the table. You pretend not to notice. She definitely notices.

"You always do that," she says quietly, leaning closer, just for you to hear. Her voice is warm, edged in amusement.

You glance at her. "Do what?"

She grins. "Turn pink whenever I talk to you."

You freeze. Your face burns instantly. "I do not," you mutter, eyes darting back to your notebook, desperate to escape the weight of her gaze.

"You're blushing right now." Her tone is smug - teasing, but somehow still sweet.

"I'm not."

"You so are."

You scribble random numbers in your notebook, pretending they make sense. Anything to avoid looking at her. It doesn't help that she's leaned in so close you can smell her perfume - something soft and citrusy.

Jenna lowers her voice again. "It's cute, you know. You're cute."

You nearly drop your pencil. "That's not fair," you whisper, not trusting your voice.

"What's not fair?"

"That you say stuff like that and just act like it's... casual."

She laughs softly, the sound curling around your ribs like warmth. "It is casual," she says, "because I casually think about kissing you all the time."

Your heart stumbles. You finally look at her, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

Her smile falters for the first time. "Too much?"

You shake your head, frantically, before she can take it back. "No. Not too much. Just... unexpected."

Jenna tilts her head, watching you for a beat longer than necessary. "You want me to stop?"

You should say yes. It would make breathing easier. Thinking easier. But instead, your voice comes out soft and honest. "No."

She smiles again, slower this time. Like she's pleased with the answer, like she knew it already and just wanted to hear you say it.

"Good," she says. "Because I like watching your cheeks turn red when I tell you how pretty you are."

You groan and bury your face in your hands.

She chuckles. "Admit it: you like it."

You peek at her through your fingers. "Maybe."

"Thought so."

And then - when you think it can't possibly get any worse (or better) - her fingers brush lightly against yours under the table. Not holding. Just touching.

It sends sparks all the way to your ears.

"I could hold your hand instead," she whispers, so close you feel her breath on your cheek.

You nod, barely, and she laces her fingers through yours like it's the most natural thing in the world.

You're definitely blushing now.

And Jenna? She grins like she's just won something.

Because she has.