Stop Playing Innocent // COMPLETED

27 // Kiss

ya'll ever heard of Spanish pick up lines ?

like

"Si fuera superman te llevaría volando, pero como no lo soy te acompaño caminando."

uh it's kinda like, "if I was superman I would take you flying, but since I'm not I'll walk you home"

well you did now so 💅🏻
//

Three weeks.

Hiding.
Covering.
Changing the subject.
Plain lying about my relationship with a guy I used to call 'asshole' was... an adventure.

Yes, there was the adrenaline from almost being caught holding hands or standing suspiciously close to each other at school by classmates, but only almost. As the hard urge of running up to Damon in corridors and tell him what I thought about a certain song he recommended to was worse.

Thank fuck for living together.

But now, it was math class. Pissed off from the chattering, our teacher moved Kandy to swap with Damon and had him sit next to me in the very back instead while we silently watched a math video on the board. Talk about trying to keep a straight posture for forty minutes for 'no reason'.

Damon, on the other hand, didn't care, comfortably sat back slightly turned to the side and stared at me. Grinning like a child on Christmas Day.

I look at him once, then the front of the dark class, him, front, more at the front, and finally him.

"You're distracting me", I say as if half the class didn't already move closer to the board and it wasn't empty around our table.

"I'm not doing anything."

"Maybe not physically, but I'm trying to concentrate."

We sit shoulder-to-shoulder.
"You don't even know half of what's going on in this class."

"I do know, you rude peach."

"Alright then", it takes him five seconds to think when he points at the video, "Explain to me how the final value for n is 6 when the first formula wasn't even used?"

"With damn pleasure", I take off my glasses to write notes on my book as I explain, "You see, on the video, it showed that..."

Quietly speaking, I continued to draw out complicated equations. Only a shivering chill crossed my body. Damon's hand. On my thigh.

I ignore and carry on.
"But if you try the second formula ..."

Again.
His hand that was slowly moving, caressing along my leg and higher into the inside of my thighs made it exceptionally hard for me to concentrate but also thank myself for wearing jeans.

keep talking, just keep talking...

Finally, when he's dangerously closer to a part I was not capable of ignoring, I boldly underlined the final answer on the paper and swatted his hand away.

"What's wrong?", he softly asks, "Nervous?"

Yes.
"No."

"Then why'd you stop?"

Sitting back into the chair, I glance around the room in the hope that nobody noticed us.
And thankfully, nobody did.