Delinquent (Marshall Lee x Reader)

Part 8

I stood in the door, dumbfounded and probably blushing like crazy.

When I forced my eyes to look at him, he was grinning like an idiot.

I had to look away from him. As much as I didn't want to admit it, he looked way too good. His raven hair was in that i-just-got-out-of-bed-messy (or i-just-had-sex-messy) style and of course he had abs. The universe officially hated me.

"Good evening, (Y/N), please come in," he said in mock-politeness, gesturing into his doorway.

I gulped and walked in, unable to speak. He closed the door behind me.

His house looked even smaller on the inside. It wasn't unclean or rundown, only a little untidy with some clothes on the floor and dirty dishes on the counters.

"You hungry?" I looked over to see that he was standing in his tiny kitchen stirring something in a pot.

"Umm...no I'm fine," I replied.

"Oh c'mon. What did you eat for dinner?"

"Nothing, but I'm fine for now. You don't have to–"

"Exactly. You're eating this spaghetti. I made it for you."

Seriously? Didn't he understand that this was just supposed be like a few minutes? "Demanding much?"

"Hey, I worked friggin hard on this. I want you to enjoy it."

I decided to comply, realizing how hungry I actually was.

I sat at the table and he leaned over to set a plate of delicious looking spaghetti with the whole sauce, mushrooms, tomatoes deal on it too.

"Eat up princess," he said, sitting across from me.

I ignored the annoying nickname and picked up my fork. "Well, surprisingly, this looks amazing."

"Surprisingly? I'm insulted. I'm an amazing cook."

"Im sorry...I guess I just didn't expect it based off of your...vibe."

His tone changed to serious. "Don't judge off of appearances."

Then he started to eat, so I did the same, unsure of how to reply.

But as soon as the food hit my tastebuds, I had to talk. "Oh my glob...I didn't even know spaghetti could taste this good!"

"I know right. I'm pretty much good at everything."

I rolled my eyes and continued to scarf the food down.

"Wait," I said, thinking of something, "are your parents home?"

He grinned and made eye contact with me. "Why do you ask? Looking to do something...promiscuous?"

Crap. I didn't realize the sexual innuendo until it had been said.

Before I could choke out a reply, he laughed at my panicked expression and said, "I live alone. I moved out when I turned 18 last summer and got this place from a friend."

"Oh." I replied, praying that my blush wasn't as obvious as it felt. "But...I thought you were a junior like me."

"I am. I just started school later than most kids."

He reached out to grab my clean plate, stacking it with his own and putting them in the sink. I took the chance to stare at his impossibly muscular back. It looked like a picture strait out of tumblr. Lord help me.

Then his hand was grabbing my own and pulling me up from my seat. "I like your outfit," he said.

I looked down to see the sweatpants and red tee-shirt I have on. I thought he was making fun of me, but he had a strait face.

He lead me into a room that I assumed was his.

Wait...his room? Calm down, I told myself, suddenly remembering the actual reason I was there.

I let go of his hand and cleared my throat. "I'll uh go get my backpack so I can start."

When I got back, he was sitting on the foot of his bed looking at me intently.

I sat down next to him and got out a notebook and pencil.

I cleared my throat again. "So, what do you do in your free time? And no smart-ass answers this time please."

He chuckled, still staring at me as he answered. "I play guitar and sing. I'll play for you sometime. I like video games and messing with people. Especially you, as of late."

Wait...did he just say that he'd "play for me sometime". I must be hearing things. No. He actually said that. Oh. my.

I continued, avoiding eye contact. "Favorite color?"

"Red. Blood red."

"Okay. Umm...I know one of your favorite bands, any others?"

"Oh, heck yes..."

And it went on like that until my entire page was full.

"Okay, umm, I'll just get going now," I stood
up to leave.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me back down, "Oh, no you won't, it's my turn."

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