charity project // mischa bachinski (ride the cyclone)

27 - criminal record

That night, we were all watching a movie. It was a horror movie, much to my dismay. I was sitting by Mischa, naturally, and apparently, he'd 'figured out a way' to make me stop clinging onto his arm. This 'method', however, involved him talking every time something happened. The rest of the choir didn't appreciate it, and neither did I. On the tenth 'Are you actually impaired? Don't do that!' I finally turned to him.

"Mischa, babygirl, please shut up," I smiled, patting his shoulder.

He immediately stopped, visibly confused. "What?"

"Stop talking during the movie, please."

"No, no. What did you call me?"

"Babygirl?"

"Yes. I am not your 'babygirl'."

I stifled a smile. "I call everyone that. Ask Noel." I looked over to him and he nodded in affirmation. "If you're not my babygirl, then what are you?"

He pondered that for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. "Your... baby man?"

There was silence for a moment, and we both started laughing, which earned us a loud 'Shh!' from Ocean.

"Not baby man, then. Probably just your Mischa."

"Just Mischa? You're more than-"

Finally, Ocean let out a groan of frustration. "Can you guys leave if you're not going to be quiet? In case you couldn't see, we're trying to watch a movie!"

Mischa just shrugged. "Do not care. We will leave. Not because you said so, though."

He practically dragged me by my hand up to my room.

"Is there something you want?" I asked, a bit skeptical.

"No. I just don't like Ocean. Also tired."

"Go to bed if you're tired," I pointed out. "Your room is downstairs."

Instead, he flopped down onto my bed.

"Mischa." I placed my hands on my hips. "Get off my bed."

He closed his eyes and smiled, putting his hands behind his head. "Hm. I like this bed better."

I grabbed his shoulder and tried to shake him. "Come on!"

He kept his eyes closed and ignored me.

"Don't fall asleep on my bed," I pleaded. "I can't carry you to your room."

No response.

"Fine. I guess I should probably change into my pajamas now that you are closing your eyes and can't see me," I tried.

His eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright. "What?"

"So that works? You are the worst."

"You are not actually changing? I sat up for nothing? I know who is actually the worst here, and it is not me."

"I am going to get changed, just- you know, cover your eyes or something."

I was already in sweatpants, so I just needed to change my shirt. Did I trust Mischa to not look? No. Not at all. But I still had to change. I took off my shirt and glanced over to see him, clearly staring. I crossed my arms.

"Are you kidding me?"

He didn't even try to avert his eyes. "What?"

I pulled the other shirt over my head and sat down next to him.

"Fuck you. I told you not to look," I said. Only I was smiling while I said it, so it didn't quite have the effect that I wanted.

"Aw. I can't help it. How can I stop looking at someone so pretty?"