No really, I'm okay. I'm also a great liar.

i deprive annabelle of beebo's voice through a rolly chair

"Haze, can I give you a tattoo?" Jenna asks.

I blink at her, surprised. That's not really a question I get a lot.

"Why?"

"One, I think you'd look super cool, and two, I'd like to exercise my extreme talent on you."

I pause, and look at her for a second. Her brown eyes are twinkling with excitement.

"Stop looking at me like that," I whine. "You know I'd literally build you a castle if you asked. That's not fair."

She doesn't stop.

"I already let you dye my hair," I continue, as if that'll actually stop her.

"You'll look even more like Frank," she sings persuasively.

"Stop teasing me about my height!" I whisper-yell at her. I'm not mad at her, though. I could never be mad at her. And you get used to the short jokes after a while.

"Sorry," she grins. We both know she's not. "I just think you'd look really cute with a tattoo." She climbs onto my lap and pinches my cheeks.

I sigh. "What and where?" Jenna looks down at me, so fast I can hear her neck crack. "Hypothetically!" I add quickly.

"Well, if you got a tattoo, what and where would you want it to be?"

"I don't know ... I've always liked those ones behind the ear. I might want a tiny dragon there."

Jenna's eyes widen. "Aw, that's so cute!" I just roll my eyes in response.

"Would it hurt?" is my next question.

She just shrugs. "Probably."

"I don't know, J-babe," I sigh, leaning forward so my head is resting on her shoulder.

"I'd get you cookies," she sings. I shift back so I'm against the wall instead. She looking at me all doe-eyed and it's really not fair.

"Ugh," I groan, sliding down. "Why are you so persuasive?" I close my eyes.

Though I can't see it, I know Jenna shrugs.

"J," I whine again, drawing it out. "Would it cost a lot? You know I'm basically broke from buying all that band merch. And I'm going to the bookstore tomorrow."

"I'd give it to you for free," Jenna says, poking at the soft skin where my torso meets my neck.

"Not right now," I say. "Maybe -- maybe! Later."

"That was not a no," Jenna observes happily. I nod. She leans forward and pecks me on the cheek, then rolls off the bed and onto the floor, then stands up and swings out of the room.

I kind of just stare at the door for a little while, mentally preparing myself to not give in the second she asks again. (It's really hard to say no to her.)

English class comes around again, and Professor Clark is intent on giving us partner projects again. As soon as he gives us our assignment, Annabelle lazily rolls her chair over to mine. She's in a dark blue skirt with a black tank top and her beat up sneakers.

"Wanna be my partner?" she sings. I nod and beam at her, then open my phone, play Girls/Girls/Boys, and start writing. Annabelle tugs one earbud out and pops it in her own ear. She leans over the sentences spilling out of my pen and doodles on the margin of the page, filling it up with maroon daisies.

After a while, she just starts playing with my hair.

When my hand starts to hurt, I push the paper over to her and assess the damage to my aching left hand. It's covered in ink. Ugh.

I want to spin around in my rolly chair so badly, but we're sharing earbuds. Ugh.

I'm hungry. Ugh.

But Annabelle's here, and she's got the softest little smile of her face as she reads my writing, so it's okay.

And Brendon Urie's voice is like liquid gold and makes me feel like I'm wearing a fabulous brand new outfit.

Oh don't you wonder when the light begins to fade?

And the clock just makes the colors turn to grey?

I lean my head on Annabelle's shoulder while she writes. I watch as the maroon pen fills up the margins again, but this time with words. Annabelle's beautiful, beautiful words.

I end up just kind of staring at her. Not in a creepy way, but just taking it all in. The curves in her nose. The scattering of freckles across her dark, rich cheeks. How her eyebrows slightly furrow. How her lips turn up just a little bit at the corners when she wrote something she's pleased with. How her curly hair kind of obscures her face.

She's like a cool breeze on your face in the middle of August, or getting into your pajamas after a long and uncomfortable day.

She's turning your music up to the volume of not hearing anything else and being hugged by the beat and the bass and the voices.

I start spinning in my chair. Not all the way, so I don't tug Annabelle's earbud out.

Well, that was my intention. But I don't know if you've ever been in a rolly chair and a really good mood, but it's hard to resist. So I just end up spinning around and around.

Annabelle looks at me once I've slowed down. She's still got that smile on her face, but her eyes say something like "You nerd, I love you."

But her lips move and she says "Gimme back the earbud. That was my favorite song on the album."

Eh. They're practically the same thing.

When class is over, Professor Clark waves me over. I tell Annabelle that I'll meet her when I get out, and walk over to his desk.

"So," he begins, looking at his computer. "You and Annabelle?" He looks up at me, running a hand through his blond hair and scrunching his nose to push his glasses up.

I blush. "Yeah. Good job with the matchmaking."

"It's one of my gifts," he sighs, leaning back. "You two will make six successful attempts to match my students up."

I smile. It feels kind of weird to think that if Professor Clark hadn't put her next to me, we might have not met at all. "Are the other five still together?"

"I'm going to one's wedding next month," he says proudly.

"Thanks for, y'know, sitting her next to me."

"Hey, I'm really happy for you. My God, the entire class was shipping you. Y'all are like everyone's OTP."

"We were --"

"Honey," Clark puts up a hand. "Honestly, you should see the way she looked at you. She really loves you."

"I really love her."

"Well then don't waste any more time with me! Just make sure to invite me to your wedding!" he calls, ushering me out of the room with a grin.

I blush and skip out of the room, swinging around the doorframe and almost crashing into Annabelle, who promptly trips over her foot in surprise and falls backwards.

I catch her by her waist, and smoothly pull her real close.

"Aw, darling. Did you fall for me?" I say, my nose squishing hers.

She starts to laugh, and I start to laugh, because this is why we're in love, isn't it?

a/n: is that how you spell rolly chair? idk man

have a good day