F O U R

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┌─────── ∘°∘♡∘°∘ ───────┐

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┌─────── ∘°∘♡∘°∘ ───────┐

I love you,

because every little thing you do,

drives me crazy.

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.

.

.



Click. Click. Click.


Frustration was boiling inside your stomach, just waiting for the perfect time to explode into real anger. You had to endure the urge to go bitch mode at your seatmate, known as the culprit, who constantly clicked their pen during class.


But like, who the hell even clicks their pen like that?!


All the damn time you sat beside him, the noises of 'click, click, click' could be heard from your side. This started on the first day you entered this class, and only a week had passed. Yet, you already couldn't handle the crawling sensation of wanting to choke him and strangle him. Anything vulgar that could make him shut up and stop his fingers from approaching the pen.


You wondered how his classmates even managed to put up with his actions. It was so distracting to you, because one part of your ears was hearing the clicking sound, and the other ear was listening to the teacher's teaching.


Pinching the bridge of your nose, you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to ease the upcoming tension tempting to approach your face, making it look like a red mad tomato.


"I hope you all understand today's topic. This is very important, so do make sure that you understand it not only by ninety percent, not ninety-nine percent, but a hundred percent!" Your homeroom teacher placed both of her hands on each side of the table, leaning forwards as she gazed at each and every one of you.


Suddenly, all the clicking noises from your seatmate finally came to a stop when he noticed how serious the teacher was being. Obviously, he didn't want to get in trouble, nor get humiliated in front of the class. No one would ever want to experience that embarrassment! Not even you.

reaching you || oikawa tooru x f!readerWhere stories live. Discover now