word count:
‣ 1595
warnings:
↳ awkward teens back at it again, OVER-EXPLAINED STUFF IM SO SORRY I LOST TRACK, maybe swearing i don't remember it's natural at this point 😪
summary: ❝ fake dating isn't always just fake ❞
a/n: part three is here!! and it's THAT time again, i'm taking requests 😌😌 i'll be writing some of your requests either after this series or as a break point for me, so please MESSAGE me your requests ✨ (i would allow you to comment them but they get lost in all my other notifications on wattpad and i try to read through them but there's so many that it's hard)
{MODERN AU}
✧✧✧
The next day, Mike was awoken abruptly by the loud ringing of his alarm. His body had been in such a relaxed state that the shrill noise of the device was enough to startle him off the bed.
Blankets tangled around his lanky limbs, his hair a mess and covering half of his vision, his eyes still adjusting to the morning, he let out a long groan.
"Fuck." Mike whispers, untangling his legs from the intertwined blankets.
He rose from his spot and threw his blankets back onto the bed sloppily. Running a hand through his curly and bedridden hair.
A quick glance at the retro clock on his bedside table made his eyes widen comically.
"Shit, shit, shit." Mike mumbles, quickly rushing to the bathroom to get ready for school.
After a rushed schedule of skincare, brushing his teeth, spraying deodorant, and attempting to tame his mane of hair, he ran back into his bedroom to assemble an outfit that was at least slightly presentable.
Taking off his sleep wear and slipping into a button up white shirt, buttoning it, and then slipping a cyan sweater over the shirt, making sure to pull the collar out of the sweater. (we love a man with style)
Next he stepped into his cuffed beige jeans, making sure to zip his fly up all the way (he had made that mistake too many times), and finally putting on his white converse and hastily tying the laces.
Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he rushed out of his room and down the stairs, skipping a few steps at a time.
"Hey, hey, hey. You're not leaving without eating something." Karen's voice stopped Mike in front of the door, sighing loudly.
"I'm running late, mom."
"Eat it on the way there." Karen shrugs, gesturing to the waffle she had on a plate.
"Fine," Mike mumbled, grabbing the Eggo off the plate and shoving it in his mouth. "Happy?" Small flakes of his waffle flew from his mouth at his words, and Karen grimaced.
"Sure. Now go!!"
Mike rolls his eyes, rushing out of his house and getting onto his bike, making sure to ride faster than usual.
✧✧✧
"Can anyone tell me the historical meaning behind Lincoln's words in this passage?"
History.
Mike and El's third period of the day. They only shared one class outside of History, which was Gym, but since the boys and girls were usually separated for different games, they didn't have the chance to talk. However, since Mr. Jones, their history teacher, had re-assigned seats for the class, Mike was secretly elated but at the same time nervous to be sitting next to El.
