There was a gentle tug at your left earphone, pulling it from the curve of your ear and drawing your attention from the mess of textbooks and notebooks scattered about your bed.
Caramel skin and chocolate eyes met your own, one brow raised expectantly. "Brad?" You dropped the pen nestled between your fingers, turning to check the time. Seven o'clock flashed in bright red letters, a half hour past the time you were supposed to meet him at Dewey's Pizza.
"Oh, damn. I'm sorry! I lost track of time and..." Brad waved a dismissive hand, dropping his jacket onto the foot of your bed as he sighed.
"It's alright, love. You've got exams and," he paused and motioned towards the markers, the pens, the clutter scattered about. "The like."
"No, no— I want to go. I just.. I've got a handful of papers due by Monday and a speech I have to memorize and—," You paused, eyes falling at the realization of the amount of work you still had ahead of you.
The words slipped from your mind, unable to ignore the bite of dread that gnawed at the edges of your mind. How were you supposed to sleep? Eat? Think?
"Hey, hey." Brad surged forward, warm hands cradling your chin until there was nothing but him — his touch, his smell, his voice. "Forget about dinner. Forget about everything." Your eyes followed as he swiped everything from your bed, hushing the soft pleas you mumbled as the materials crashed against the wooden floor.
"Brad, I can't just—,"
He murmured a low, "nuh uh" and silenced your grumbles with soft pecks, gradually becoming a little more than soft caresses and touches. Your fingers snuck under his hoodie, fingertips caressing the soft skin as his attention fell elsewhere.
"Brad—," A faint breath fell past your lips, head falling back against the pillow beneath you. "I've got a speech—I can't—," He nipped the soft skin of your earlobe, pleased with the squeak of surprise you offered in response.
He pulled away then, falling against his side and unable to hide a smile as you followed. You tucked yourself against him, hands slipping around his waist and nose nuzzled into his sweatshirt.
You weren't sure how long the two of you were there, kissing and cuddling and touching. In all honesty, you didn't care. When those dark eyes met yours, especially paired with one of his stupid jokes... Who would care about statistics?
