"Come on, we're going to be late!"
You screamed, dragging your best friend along. And even though he was a guy, you were just friends. No, you did not like him. At all. Maybe you liked the physical contact he gave you, and maybe there was a chance that your heart would flutter every time he would get really close, but no, you did not like him. Maybe you just had a heart problem. Yeah, that's it. And maybe you read Y/n Wattpad fanfics about guys with the same name but it's only because Wattpad has good writers that you wanted to learn from and the names just happened to coincide, alright?
"Y/n, there is absolutely, definitely, no way in hell that I am going to walk any faster. We have 3 whole ass hours before it opens. Hakuna your tatas, ok?" Y/c/n pulled back on your intertwined hands. It was definitely him that held your hand first, not you. Because you absolutely, definitely, did not enjoy physical contact.
(Unless it was with him.)
"This is a brand new Nike store. Everything is 75% off for the grand opening, and you expect me to 'hakuna my tatas'?? I think my tatas are going to fall off!" you started pulling him along again. This time, he gave in. He knew there was no arguing with you once you made up your mind, and especially when you made up your mind to go into hypebeast mode.
Soon enough, it was just you two running through the streets towards the mall, laughing when the both of you tripped and nearly fell due to your *still* intertwined hands. Smiles never left your faces as you sprinted through the warm summer air, and by the time you arrived at the mall, both of you were out of breath from the exercise and laughter. You didn't think you could ever be happier than you were right now.
It really wasn't going well with your whole "I don't like him" image.
Clearing your throat, you composed yourself and strolled into the mall. You were still holding hands with Y/c/n because if he started it then goddamnit I'm not letting go until he does.
"Why do we even have to go to the actual store? We could've gone thrift shopping, where everything is always 75% off," Y/c/n whined again. He coughed slightly, and you took the opportunity to divert the conversation from your "slight" obsession with anything that could be labeled as "hypebeast material."
"See, if we go to the store, we can get brand new shoes and apparel, which means we can get you set to exercise. How are you so out of breath from that short jog?"
"First of all, bitch, neither of us has exercised since sophomore year P.E. Second of all, that was not a "short jog," that was nearly a whole ass mile! And finally, I play basketball on the weekends. I highly doubt I'm any less fit than your golf-playing ass."
"Hey, golf is an actual sport!"
"Y/n, you swing your club once and then saunter to wherever your bad hit took your ball."
"I do not saunter, I power walk! And my hits have more aim than the shots you take in your stupid game, and may I add that my target is significantly farther than yours, so how do you miss more shots than me?"
"Me? I don't "miss shots," I'm the power forward, the most versatile scorer, HELLO? Yeah, that's me! I can score shots from both..."
His voice faded away as you observed him walking alongside you, ranting about something that you didn't give two shits about. But you liked it when he did this, because he lost all attention to everything else and only focused on what he was talking about. The passionate glint in his hazel orbs, his exuberant hand gestures, his smile as he recalled some of his best moments on the court; man, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.
"...and I was awarded MVP of our weekend club!"
With that, you snapped back to reality. Glancing around, you realized you had already reached the store, which, surprisingly, had no line yet. You also realized that your argument had gotten some stares from the passerby. You chose not to mind, until an elderly woman came up to you.
