04 | repeat

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r e p e a t


Declan's mood swings didn't get better. In fact, they got worse – alternating between grumpy one moment and immature the next. So it was for that very reason that he chose to stick with me for the rest of the day, instead of with his usual bunch of friends.

"I might scare them off with my mood swings," He informed me seriously, when I asked him why he wasn't showing any signs of leaving. "I'm worse than a girl on her menstrual cycle."

I rolled my eyes at him. Honestly, I didn't know if I liked the fact that he stuck with me only because he didn't want to show his irritable side to his friends. Then again, I couldn't complain. I had basically made him quit smoking.

"The second I master the art of kissing," He said, interrupting my trend of thought. "I'm smoking again. I'll buy ten packs of cigarettes and smoke myself to death."

Shielding my eyes from the afternoon sunlight, I gazed up at him. "Why do you smoke anyway?"

"I don't know. I just picked it up, I guess? It stuck ever since."

I stared at him, finding nothing suitable to say, and he glared at me. "What?"

"Stop psycho-analysing me," He accused, his lips twisted downwards in a scowl, his mood taking a hundred and eighty degree downturn. "There doesn't have to be a reason for me to start smoking. Not everything happens for a reason."

"You didn't have to stop smoking just because I said so," I reminded him, at last. "After all, I'm not the girl you're going to be snogging. Maybe your future girlfriend will like the taste of tobacco."

"Tell me," He said, turning his gaze towards me. We were heading out of school then, since lessons were over, and Declan had suggested holding the second lesson at his place. "Was kissing me that bad?"

I flushed and avoided his gaze. "Well...t-there's lots of improving to do, I guess?"

"But it wasn't horrible, was it?"

I bit my lip. "No, it wasn't."

The knowing smirk that played on his lips almost made me want to smack myself for answering in the negative and boosting his ego to the highest heavens.

"So," He mused, in a self-congratulatory, triumphant sort of tone. "I do have potential. And the kissing-professional thinks I'm not a complete hopeless case. And, and maybe, if I'm lucky enough, I can get her to lay one on me again – "

"One what?" I asked, my voice dangerous.

He cast a side glance at me and winked. "A kiss, of course."

He was incorrigible. He was too immature to be true, but oddly enough, I found myself wanting to laugh at his antics, despite being rather annoyed. Before I could stop myself, I was swatting him with my textbook. "Shut up."

"But you didn't deny it!" He crowed, triumphantly, laughing at my flabbergasted expression. "You have it bad for me, El, just – "

"Shut up," I hissed, for his voice was attracting the unwanted attention of several passers-by. "Shut up, will you?"

He grinned. "You get riled up so easily. It's cute."

To my utmost mortification, I felt my cheeks flame even more at that comment. "Don't call me cute!"

"Fine. Adorable, then."

"I am not adorable," I declared, hotly. "Stop that."

"But you are," He continued, smoothly. "And funny, and amazing, and gorgeous and – "

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