Exo Imagines

69. Kris (cute)

You swung your arm to let your palm collide with your face, groaning frustratedly to yourself and your black biro fell from your fingers to bounce against your work book several times before rolling and making an escaped for the shade under neath the low coffee table you were sat before.

Your legs were crossed against the carpet, your elbows propped up on your knees and you let your head hang low, letting your long, slender fingers twine with your messed fringe. Letting out a deep, annoyed sigh you let your shoulders relax, only to have them tense up again ever so slightly when a large, strong and comforting hand was placed against your bare shoulder.

With tired eyes you twisted your head to look over your shoulder into a pair of dark loving eyes. "Having trouble?" Your boyfriend's deep, voice spoke gently, his soft words soothing you. You didn't speak, just nodded your head limply, to which made Kris take a seat on the floor at your side, working one of his long arms around your small waist, pulling you along the carpet to settle on his lap.

"Need any help?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Even if I wanted help you couldn't do anything," you spoke weakly and looked down at your lap, letting your fringe fall across your eyes like a curtain.

Kris tilted his head to get a better view of your sorrowful eyes through the black strands of hair. reaching his free hand up, he leg his delicate fingers trace the shape of your forehead, moving your fringe from out of your eyes and tucking it behind your ear. "Now, now, ________," he whispered. "I can at least try to help my beautiful girlfriend, can't I?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you refocused your eyes on his flawless face, letting your gaze wonder over his defined features, thinking to yourself, *I can't believe he's mine*. You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head quickly, getting the bright gummy smile of Kris' you adored so much.

"What are we doing here, anyway?"

"French," you answered, clenching your jaw to help hold back your laughter when Kris' eyes squinted, his lips pouted and his eye bites merged together. You knew he couldn't speak The language, his French vocabulary reaching no more advanced that the simple words like "bonjour," and "wi".

You let him read through your class notes, your eyes focusing on the way his eyebrows merged together through his willed concentration, finding it harder and harder. It to laugh whenever he made a silly mistake and resorted back to cursing in Mandarin. Finally, after ten minutes of attempted showing off and calmness he complete lost his cool and slammed your French dictionary down on the table and folded his arms across his chest, pouting like a child. "French is a stupid language anyway," he moaned and you lost control of your giggles.

"Stop laughing at me!" Kris complained and his childish pout only got worse. Reaching up with your small hand you cupped one of his cheeks and let your lips press against the other, smiling against his skin when the apples of his cheeks heated to a hot shade of crimson.

"I appreciate the help, Kris," you mumbled softly and you pressed your forehead against his. "But I think you're best sticking to the things you know."