"Stop. Stop. Stop. Will, stop!"
You swatted his hand away for the fourth time that night, trying to focus on the book in your lap.
"Aw, come on, this is so totally boring!" he complained, laying his head back and staring up at the ceiling.
"I know, but I have to read this chapter! If I don't, I won't be able to—"
"I know, I know, dumb school stuff. I'm so over it," he said with an air of smug carelessness.
"Yeah, well just because you don't have to go to school anymore doesn't mean that everyone else has that luxury."
"How many more pages do you have left?" he whined, leaning over your shoulder to stare down at the bland, black and white pages.
"I don't know. Maybe seventeen. Something like that," you replied, shoving him away.
"Seventeen!?"
"Yes, and if you stop talking, I can read faster."
"But I'm so bored! I want to do something with you!"
"Babe! I have literally read this paragraph like eight times! Now will you please be quiet!"
"Will I be quiet? Yes, yes I will. Because I am Will. Get it?"
You stared hard at the page in front of you, struggling with everything in you not to let him know how much his incredibly cheesy line made you want to giggle.
"You thought it was funny," he said like a pleased four-year-old, as if reading your mind. "You know you did. You think I'm hysterical."
"Not when I'm trying to read! Now—"
"I know, I know, I Will be quiet, because that's what I'm good at. This is me, being quiet."
"Will, I swear! If you don't knock it off right now I am going into the other room, got it?"
It became suddenly quiet. You sighed inwardly and began to read the paragraph over again. Then you began to wonder if you had unintentionally hurt his feelings, and a twinge of guilt began to rise up in you. Now thoroughly remorseful, you slid your eyes downward, and then turned slightly, just managing to peek over at him. Suddenly something flew through the air and smacked you in the face, causing momentary blackness to invade your vision.
You heard muffled laughter, and blinked, pulling the thing from your face, realizing that it was a couch pillow. Looking over at the other side of the couch sat Will, doubled over in a fit of laughter, altogether much too pleased with himself.
"That is it!" you hollered.
Slamming your history book shut and flinging it on the floor, your fist closed around the pillow that he had thrown at you. For an instant, pure, sarcastic horror filled Will's face as you raised your arm for the throw, then you flung the pillow at him with all of your might.
He quickly spun around and ducked behind the couch. You missed Will, but managed to hit the vase behind him dead center, knocking it off of the coffee table to shatter on the tile floor below. You froze. There was complete silence.
Suddenly Will's head popped up from behind the couch wearing a mischievous grin, "You throw like a girrrl!" he said in a sing-song voice.
Oh it was on now!
You screamed and grabbed the nearest pillow, vaulting the couch. Will let out a high-pitched shriek, and made a flying dash down the hallway as you tore after him, pillow raised. You knew that your only shot of hitting him was before he turned the corner and bolted into the kitchen where barstool cushions waited for him to retaliate with, and from the speed he had gathered, you were sure that he would make it before you had the chance to throw.
The only thing that Will hadn't calculated, however, was the tile floor. As he tried to turn the corner, his socks slid wildly on the slick tile beneath him. He flailed, trying to regain his balance, but his excessive speed had caught up with him and he landed hard on his side with a loud thud. You winced.
"Will!" you called, running over to him. "Will, Will! Will, are you alright?"
He let out a muffled moaned, then turned over onto his back, looking up at you, squinting, as if trying to make out your face through a hazy blur.
"Are you okay?!" you demanded.
He blinked and then nodded pathetically.
"Good," you said with a sigh of relief, then slammed the pillow in his face.
_____
xD Hehe, so much fluff! <3
