𝗠𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 {Obito Uchiha}

Chapter 11: Hello 911, I'm catching feelings for a f@ck boy

(A/N : okay, this chapter is dedicated to my biggest deadly sin which starts with F.

It's food you pervs.

But I like the way you think so I may write something within the following chapters which is gonna be matching to your primary thoughts 'cause guess what, my mind is not that innocent either, lmfao. Bon appétit)

(Jun)

Autumn chill wasn't something to take lightly. That was my exact thought the moment I exited the school's front entrance as I wrapped my hands around me in a tight embrace. My outfit consisted of a short floral dress, a pair of black stockings underneath paired with my edgy ankle boots and a red knitted scarf which I had thrown over my leather jacket. I hopped to the side a bit clumsily to avoid some slippery dead leaves lying on the street as some kids ran past me to jump onto the bus, but I didn't feel like taking the bus today.

I was walking on the sidewalk, finally a day I could laze around town and relax. Did I just say relax?

The sight that greeted me failed to encourage a sense of relaxation. A matte black Audi R8 approached me from behind, roaring down the street. The driver pulled over beside me, rolling the window down in the meantime and who should be greeting me with his smug face but Obito.

"Did your license get suspended for driving all these people crazy?"

I rolled my eyes at his pick-up line and kept walking down the sidewalk.

His teasing smile didn't fade at the slightest as he continued to follow me "Where's your car? Wait, let me guess. Nagato's working his ass off to fix it once again."

I blew a huff of irritation, boy, he surely knew how to make me quite worked up just with a single sentence, didn't he? "What do you want?"

"Today's the essay's deadline, I need to pass it to my friend later on, remember?"

How could I possibly forget the damned history essay which had been such a pain in the ass for over a week? I had already written it, not that I'd had much of a choice, but couldn't care less to inform him about its process. He could take it, eat it, or shove it far up his ass, for all I care.

"Get in the car," he motioned me with his head.

I gave him a sideways glare "The hell I will."

"I don't like repeating myself."

I tugged the strips of my backpack and turned to face him "Can I just ignore you some other time, please? I'm pretty busy right now."

He lifted his sunglasses up his head and eyed me up and down "Doing what?"

My teeth gnashed together to the point I felt my molars on the verge of breaking "Well isn't it obvious? I'm doing nothing. Which is far better than talking to you."

"I said. Get. in. Now," he ordered dryly like I was his servant or something. When he realized I wasn't going to respond to his demand, he suddenly started honking repeatedly "I'm not gonna stop if you don't hop in."