Short And Sweet

Annoying

Something as minuscule as being seated behind him in class annoyed her. But, she guessed, it wasn't just the fact that she was sitting behind him. It was everything. Every little gesture, every little thing in his demanour, the way he would comb his fingers —very slender and pretty fingers— through his hair and stopped to play with the short ends at his nape. 

It was the way he would turn around to smile at her, so open and sincere that she couldn't help but smile back, while gripping her pencil so tightly that it broke in her hands.

It never fail to raise her temperature, making her a flushed and sweaty mess, never mind the fact that it made her heart beat so fast that it felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. It was annoying, and deeply disturbing, but the worst of all was the fact that those sparse days where he would miss a class, all what she felt was a dull noise.

She shook her head, trying to shake up the drawnsiness in her brain, which was new. But the action fail to make her feel any kind of relief, and instead she just felt dizzy and lightheaded.

“Are you ok back there, Miss Parker?” her homeroom professor asked, eyeing her warily from across the room, making the whole class focus on her, “You don't look so good.”

“Yeah, I'm—”

The words were cut off, because in that moment, Florence ‘Flo’ Parker passed out.

When she woke up, was to a splitting headache and to a bright light over her face. She closed her eyes, and rolled to her side, pulling the covers over her face with a groan.

“Can someone turn off the lights? I feel like my eyes are bleeding out.”

Someone chuckled, and Flo peeked from the cover to see who was it.

There, sitting on the chair where her uniform jacket was hanging was Elliot, better known in her head as the annoyance, although he had the gall to call himself a friend.

“Should've known the fever would make you even more bratty.”

Flo frowned, and immediately relaxed her brow. Even an expression as small as that one made her headache ten times worse.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, wincing internally at how raspy and drawnsy her voice sounded.

“You passed out in the classroom because of a fever, the teacher brought you here, and me and Cheryl are taking turns to watch over you,” then, a mocking grin appeared on his face. She hated how that expression brought up his dimples. “How didn't you notice you were sick?”

Flo scowled, turning her back on him and covering herself from head to toe with the blankets, it wasn't until then that she notices that she was shivering.

_Ah_ she thought, _so the fever hasn't broken yet_.

“I never get sick,” she answered, muffled by the layers of blankets over her. “You can leave now, I don't need you babysitting me.”

Elliot scoffed, walking over the bed to pull the covers from her and put a hand on her forehead. Her heartbeat spiked and so did her body temperature, and this time it has nothing to do with the cold. In fact, she didn't know where to put the blame.

So she placed on Elliot. He was always the one to blame for her mood swings.

“You're still hot.”

“That's why I don't like you.”

They spoke over each other, and because she had closed her eyes she missed the surprise in Elliot's face turning to something akin to hurt.

“Why don't you like me?” he asked, quietly, without removing his hand from her forehead.

Flo sighed, relishing in the calming feeling of his cold hand against her heated skin, shifting until that very same hand cupped her cheek and nuzzling into it.

“Because of things like this,” she said, eyes still closed and voice raspy with sleep. “Your hands always feel good when you touch me, and I hate when it happens but I hate it more when it doesn't. And you always call me, and even though I don't wanna answer, I do,” though her words sounded angry, the fact that she was still nuzzling into his hand, dragging her hot lips across his palm, making his tingle, said otherwise. “You really annoy me.”

“Do I really?” Elliot asked, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Yeah,” she replied, already half sleep. “This is your fault.”

At this, he actually chuckled, keeping his voice as low as possible because judging by her breathing pattern she was already sleep. Slowly, he tried to freed his hand, and when he did it, she stirred a little. Immediately, he uses that very same hand to comb through her head. She sighed again, relaxing her body on the bed.

“Don't leave,” she whispered, though it probably it was just her talking in her sleep.

He replied anyways.

“I won't.”

...

Yeiiii, I'm back again!!!

I know I was gone for a long time, but college is a bitch and so it's writers block.

Enjoy this little something, i have a few more of this short stories about characters that never sow the light, and I'm actually working on something new ***wink, wink***

Anyway, have a nice august everyone!!!