dancing in the grass

558 8 5
                                    

╚═════๑♡๑═════╝

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

╚═════๑♡๑═════╝

"okay, put your hand on my waist."
"i said waist, not ass."

Summary: miles and you haven't talked in a while so miles takes you to his backyard and dances with you in the grass with romantic music ofc

I groan rather loudly while plopping my head on my desk. My French essay wasn't good and I have to rewrite it. During. Break.

I hated it. Especially since miles wants to do more together since we both don't have school in the way now but I have to write a whole three chapters french.

Damn I should quit languages class.

"Dinner!" A loud shout was called for me by mrs Grose. I huff and go down the grand staircase and open the door, seeing miles and flora both already sitting down.

"Good evening all of you." I smile. I haven't talked to them since school break, I still had allot to do and my French essay was just a small part.

"Hi, y/n!" Flora squeels, slicing a piece of her sausage and smiling at me. "Hello, flora." I giggle at her excitement.

"How's the essay going?" Miles asked, looking up at me. "It's fine I guess. I'm at chapter two so that's atleast further then half." I smile at him.

I feel really guilty for not giving him any affection. "Sorry we had to cancel the picnic." I say just above a whisper.

"It's okay, maybe we can do something after your essay? You only have some math after and you're done." Miles gave a knowing smile. He understood. Miles always understood.

"Yeah sure."

Time skip brought to you by miles' amazing sweaters (i want one)

I sigh loudly, before writing;
'Le fin.'
I smile exhaustedly after finishing chapter three and ending my misery by finishing my essay.

I put the essay into a binder to make sure nothing happens to it. Then I heard a weird noise from my doorstep. I look to my doorstep to find a letter slipped from underneath my wooden door.

Miles' doings.

I giggle at the thought and grab the letter, opening it after.

Dear Mrs Fairchild.

Holy shit he called me mrs Fairchild.

【𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 】ᶠⁱⁿⁿ ʷᵒˡᶠʰᵃʳᵈ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉˢ ⁺ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᶜᵉˢ Where stories live. Discover now