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✯ E V E L Y N ✯
"Hey."
I let out a quiet yelp, whipping my head around to see a girl with red-brown hair. It's Lio. "Oh, h-hi," I stammer out in surprise, my cold mac-and-cheese meal from the cafeteria forgotten.
"C-can I sit?"
I flinch a little, nodding. "Uh, sure. G-go ahead." I grimace at my attempt at nonchalance, cursing myself for turning into a stammering mess. Lio takes a seat opposite me, and I'm glad that we have a table to ourselves. Around us is a loud ruckus, but somehow when I look into her eyes everything quietens down.
She's dressed in an off-the-shoulder baggy shirt, slim legs encased in a pair of leggings. I can smell her sweet perfume from where I'm sitting, and I look around at everyone else. A few people watch us intently while a couple of jocks throw glances at Lio, jostling each other as they make some sort of joke that is most likely demeaning on her part.
"So . . . new hair," I comment, dropping my eyes down to my plate of food when hers meet mine. I push around my food, not in the mood to eat.
"Yeah." She clasps her hands before grasping a strand of her newly dyed hair. "Is it bad? I'm not sure if it suits me, I think it makes my skin look pasty. Maybe it was a bad ide—"
"Lio," I interrupt her, stopping her rant. Something shifts in her eyes as she stares back. "Your hair looks beautiful. You look beautiful."
Lio's cheeks turn pink, and she rubs a hand over them, trying to cover her blush. I shift in my seat, knowing we look strange to other people watching on. Me pushing my food around with my plastic fork and stealing glances at Lio while she looks at anywhere but at me. We are polar opposites.
"We should talk," I blurt out, and Lio nods, sitting on her hands.
I push my food aside, taking a small sip from my milkshake. "What about?" she feigns cluelessness, but I can tell she knows exactly what I'm talking about. After all, that's the reason why she came to sit opposite me.
"About . . . that night on V-Valentine's Day."
"O-oh." There's a silence between us. "Well, I don't know about you, but I don't regret it. I know it probably wasn't my best idea to show up at your place high, but . . . if i could, I'd do it a thousand times again."
I let out a sigh, my eyes absently sweeping over faces in the cafeteria. "Okay, then. I–I don't regret anything either," I admit, and she casts me a small smile. God, she's beautiful. Silky hair flowing past her dainty shoulders, eyes expressive and wide, lips pink, plump and utterly kissable . . . My cheeks catch fire, wondering where these thoughts are coming from.
