Drowning In Color | ✔️

Chapter Four

"You're kidding me, right? Are you actually kidding me?" I questioned.

We had been wandering around the supermarket just for a fucking cabbage. What's so cool about it? Other than the fact that it's purple. And why did he even have to drag me all the way here for it?

He tossed the vegetable lightly in the air and made sure to catch it. Otherwise, we'd have to pay for a splattered sauce. While waiting for the line to be shorter, he wore his headphones and turned on the music in his phone. Is he trying to ignore me?

I stood around in frustration. How could he just treat me like a pet? Tricking me into going on a long ride with him, then making me wait for something I don't care about. I shifted my body near his. Even his cologne was masked by the awful stench of the cabbage.

We rode back to our neighborhood. This time, I was more alert. We stopped before his front porch. After dropping me off here, he rode the bike to his garage, parking it against one of the walls. I guess I'm expected to walk home, even though he could have just dropped me there along the way.

As I turned around to head home, a voice called out, "Where do you think you're going?" I froze. He ran over to me to prevent my escape. "We're supposed to be doing the Chemistry project."

My eyes widened, as I wasn't pre-informed about it. He just said we're getting materials, not doing it on the same day. "Excuse me?" I said, elongating the 'e'.

He was still tossing the cabbage around like it were a basketball. And smirked when he caught it. "What, you don't wanna get it over and done with?"

Not a word after, he walked up to his door and unlocked it. I followed behind, knowing that bailing out on him after knowing his intentions would just be an asshole move.

The house was pristine, like it had just been cleaned recently. Lucky him. We headed to the kitchen, where he brought out three cups and bottles of vinegar and baking soda.

I looked at him doubtfully of his actions. Was the project just an excuse for him to make a weird ass juice? I questioned him. He handed the ingredients to me, as well as a paper. I read it, and things started to make sense.

"See, this is why you shouldn't fall asleep in class," he said in a playful, 'I told you so' tone.

I frowned at his mockery. Then I began to actually read the assignment. My eyes shifted to the word scribbled on the top of the paper in a dark blue ink. "Luka," I read out loud.

He responded, "What's wrong?" while I was still reading. Hearing his voice, I looked at him in a daze. Only then, did realization strike. "I see you figured out my name."

How could I have not known this for two years? Had I really just been that oblivious? Actually, the real question would be why I didn't ask for it after talking to him for the past few days. 'Luka'. It had a nice ring to it. And the spelling's unusual too.

I poured some water into three cups. After that, I added a portion of the liquids into two of them. Meanwhile, he chopped the cabbage into tiny pieces. It seemed as though he had been so used to being in the kitchen. I had to ask, "Do you cook?"

He made a low humming sound as he thought about it. "Sometimes," he answered. "Especially on days when Mom's too tired make dinner."

I looked at his appeared. He really didn't look like the kind of guy that would do chores or care about his parents. How stupid of me. Not everyone's like how you think in your mind. But as I watched him bringing out the pot and washing the purple-stained board, I started imagining how much of a boyfriend material he is.

His headphones played a beat, loud enough to hear without needing him to put it on. I'm sure he did that so that he could listen to me as well. Was there anything else he wanted me to do? He shook his head. What's the point of bringing me here then?

Bored, I explored the house. For the most part, it follows that of a stereotypical sweet home. Pictures of him as a toddler were hung along the walls. Brown hair, obviously. Light enough, that you can tell the color from afar, not dark that you'd just mistake it for black in dim lighting.

He must have been adored by his parents. That is, until he became a child, I suppose. No pictures beyond that age were openly shown.

I headed upstairs, curious about what there'd be up there. The doors were all left open so I could see what's inside. Nothing too special from what I saw at first. Until I came to what obviously was his room.

Black like his hair, the walls were littered with posters. It's hard to focus on any of it. On the plain white desk, books were stacked like building blocks. Not just textbooks, but actual novels as well. At any empty space he could find on the desk, papers were scattered. And in the far corner of the room, a guitar case was neatly placed at an angle so that it wouldn't fall over.

"Wow. Pretty nosy person, aren't ya?" a voice crawled into my ear. I spun around in shock. He shut the door and twisted the lock. "You should know what happens when a girl enters a guy's room."

"Wait, what? What are yo—"

He grabbed me by the waist and jerked me close to him. I couldn't stop breathing heavily as he used his fingers to guide my face towards his. Using his thumb, he pulled down my chin, holding my mouth open while he licked his lips.

I placed my hands on his chest, fumbling to push his body away. But my force was too weak against his magnetism. A gust of air warmed my face as his lips hovered barely a few inches away.

"Did I scare you?" he asked, his eyes locked onto mine. Even the one covered by his hair as we were close enough for me to see through it. He suddenly shied away and turned to hide behind that huge fringe of him. He blocked his mouth with his hand. "My god, you're so freaking cute."

I squeaked and shoved him away before he could advance any further. Then gave him a slap on the cheek. "Aren't you supposed to be looking after the stove?"

"Don't worry. Water takes a while to boil. And seeing your sexy face was totally worth it," he admitted. He rubbed his hand on his cheek, which glowed in a shade of red.

I sniffed and grunted, pushing him aside so that I could unlock the door. He followed behind me as I stomped towards the kitchen. Urgh! He's sick. He's absolutely sick.

So why do I wish for more?

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Admit it, we all act like we don't like it, but we all had that fantasy whereby a cute guy would just tease us like this. No? Just me? Okay QvQ"