Read the first chapter love. Just for right now, requests are closed in this book, because as you all know, I have a lot to catch up on, and I don't want it to pile up even more. Thank you! Requests will open up again once I get caught up.
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𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬
"Hey, Y/n," you hear that arrogant voice say from behind you. You feel your whole body tense up, and you stop walking, clutching the strap of your backpack.
You don't want to turn around to face the brown eyed boy, but you know you have to. It is smart to always have your eye on the enemy, because the moment you don't, disaster strikes.
He is wearing a black t-shirt, a silver chain necklace, and an expensive looking watch on one of his wrists. So, in other words, fashionable. As usual. Just his ability to always constantly look good with his nice clothes and his bronze smile annoys you to death. Because that image of a perfect, handsome guy hides the real way he acts. It makes him look charming. And that's the annoying thing. Despite being horrible, he is charming. Very charming.
"Dybala, what the hell do you want from me?!" you snap, taking a step back from him.
"Dybala?" he asks with a snort, taking a step towards you, studying your whole face like he always seems to do in the beginning of your encounters. "Why is it Dybala now, and not Paulo? You've always called me by my first name, Y/l/n."
You feel your face scrunch up in annoyance, and you say, "Saying your first name sounds a little too endearing, considering the way I feel towards you. You always treat me like crap."
"Pfft, you always treat me like crap, too. Just the other day you stopped me in the hall with my friends just to freaking flip me off and tell me to shut up and grow up! I wasn't even talking to you!"
"You're not over that already?" you ask in annoyance, rolling your eyes. "How sensitive are you? Dybala, I just want you to know, I only say crap to you because you give it to me! The other day you said I looked like an idiot in the talent show and when I got upset about it you told me to stop taking you so seriously! I just give you what you give me! You can give it, but you can't take it!"
His nose scrunches up in annoyance, and you study him, and just for a split second, you think that's cute, but then you forget that, thinking of it as a disgusting thought to think Paulo Dybala is cute. No, never. You will never think that. "I can take it," he mutters in annoyance, and then glances away from you. For a second, he stands there, his regularly tall and confident stance just for a moment looking smaller. You look at him doing this, but then suddenly you gasp, when you're shoved up against the lockers behind you. He is pressing his arm on the metal of the locker behind you, just above you shoulder, and on the other side, he has his hand on your shoulder.
