Shameless Preferences/Imagines

13 Lip Dirty Imagine:

   "That's disgusting." I mumbled.

  He chuckled and pulled a piece of paper out of his binder with a bunch of notes scribbled on it. "Here, I picked the Merchant of Venice for our project." He shoved the paper at me and I took it, glancing down at his notes.

   "You just went ahead and decided what player were doing?" I asked. "Why the hell would you do that?"

  "I didn't have the patience to sit here with you and decide," he said, ignoring my eye contact. "Besides, it's my favorite one."

  "You don't even read Shakespeare!"

  "Where'd you get that impression?"

  He smirked towards the front of the class and I groaned, pushing the page back towards him. "As if I'm stuck with you," I muttered under my breath.

  Lip looked at me and raised his eyebrows. "You mean to say you're not happy? I think we make a great team."

  "Sure." I sighed.

   "What? All I've ever been was nice to you!" His mockery was as evident as the scent of his cologne surrounding him.

  "Oh please, you live to subtly undermine me with your stupid sarcasm and hissy fits in the middle of class. In case you haven't noticed, Lip, we're not in fourth grade and it's not funny when you whisper pènis jokes to me."

  Around us, the classroom was filling up with students and the teacher was shuffling paper on his desk. Lip glared at me before shrugging. "You're right. I don't really care though," he said. "So let's get on with this, okay love?"

    My teeth clang together when he said the word love and I had to resist slapping him. This is what Lip does; his pure sarcastic, vulgarity gets my skin crawling with hatred and I have to try my hardest not to throw me own temper tantrum and beg the teacher to let me do this project alone. "Okay seniors," Mr. Williams yelled out, his hair piece almost falling off. I felt myself struggling not to laugh at it, and noticed Lip laughing as well. I stopped, refusing to find the same things humorous. "Today you'll be planning out which Shakespeare play you'll be presenting to the class. You'll need to make a power point of some kind and write a joint essay."

  I groaned and stared down at the page. "The Merchant of Venice is so boring!" I whisper-yelled to Lip.

  His eyes caught mine as he muttered back, "Welk what else do you have in minds, princess?"

   Glaring at him, I tried to make a point that I despised the nickname princess. "I like Macbeth."

   Lip rolled his eyes while the teacher continued to explain the project. Once again we seemed to not be paying attention. "Of course you like Macbeth, aren't here witches involved?"

  "You're and àsshole."

  "How about Romeo and Juliet?"

I thought about it. "That's been done a million times."

  "So have all his other plays, genius," Lip began scribbling down notes about Romeo and Juliet on a piece of paper. "It's fine; we can compare the feud between the Capulets and the Montagues to our own loving relationship."

   Lip smirked and me once more, his eyes holding mine, waiting for an answer. I noticed the teacher glaring at us from the corner of his eye and sighed, "Fine, Romeo and Juliet it is."

"Fantastic."

The rest of the class dragged on, with Lip and I attempting to work through an outline for an essay, and what our main topic would be. I frequently had to stop myself from groaning and sighing angrily; it was becoming one of my worst habits around him. Lip had continuously been antagonizing me with sly comments about my choice in reading material (i.e, Macbeth) and often wondering what drew that to be my favorite. I refused to tell him why, instead making fun of him for choosing Shakespeare's most romantic play for our assignment.