Being Pansexual

73. A snapshot

Here's a Snapshot.
Picture this.

I'm sitting on a plastic chair, one leg crossed over the other. We're inside an art classroom. It's large and bustling with at least 10 other students.
It's lunch break, our friend is finishing off her art assessment, I'm eating a bag of chips.
You're in a chair right next to me, scrolling on your phone. Your legs are resting on mine, as though a footrest.
The entire classroom is busy, alive with people rushing to finish what they started before the bell signalling next class goes.
I begin telling you a story. It's slightly funny, embarrassing and very ridiculous.
You turn your phone off, putting it down, and lean forward, towards me.
It's a true story, somethings that happened a year ago. You join in, adding small parts that you remember.
Occasionally I stop, leaving a slight cliff-hanger for you. You are annoyed by it, laughing and shoving my shoulder.
I continue again.
And when it gets towards the end of the story, the ending you don't know, I stop talking altogether.
You lean forward again, like you do every time I stop. You try to look up into my eyes, smiling your brightest, goofiest smile.
I'm hiding a smile, looking away, but not leaning away.
You're begging me to tell you, I'm shaking my head, saying no.
You lean forward even more, pouting and begging, smiling and looking into my eyes. You're giving me the biggest puppy-dog eyes I've ever seen. (The cutest too).
I shake my head, and as soon as I do, you lean forward even more, so your legs are almost entirely overlapping mine, so you're so close. You wrap your arms around me, resting your face against my shoulder.
I'm laughing now, I can't help it.
You demand I tell you.
I'm in your arms, you're shaking me from side to side, I know you're grinning your face off.
So I say okay and you pull back. And I tell you the end of the story.
You tease me.
The bell goes. 

That's the Snapshot.
Picture it...

That's happiness~