^Carter, played by Eduardo Bernardi ❤️
Brown Eyes by Destiny's Child was such a cute song to listen while writing this chapter.
. * .
Sometimes, I push you away because I secretly hope you'll pull me closer.
. * .
The moment the red-head stepped through the door to the place Randall occupied in the place of his uncle, the latter's heart began beating on a speed he hated to the core of his very being. Suppressing it with a groan, he masked any remnants of his true feelings as he disconnected his earbuds from his ears. He did this all in advance because he knew all too well what was to come.
"Ei, Randie." Carter zealously greeted, closing the distance between them before Randall could even blink. Like pink bands of elastic, his pierced lips had already expanded across his face, showing off those dentures that had girls swooning too many times to count. Eyes bluer than the ocean, they bored right into and straight through Randall with their artificial make-up, housing the mischievous twinkle that always sat inside. At that moment, his hair was jogging off in differing directions, falling mostly to one side of his flawless face, giving Randall the impression that either the wind did that, or perhaps was his infamous just-had-sex hair. Subconsciously, Randall tugged at the rim of the hat he wore, stomach churning with disgust.
Disgust at the thought of Carter having sex with someone.
I mean ... that's obnoxious.
Masking his feeling of disdain with annoyance, he released the exasperated sigh that always made Carter pout. "What do you want this time?"
As predicted, Carter's rosy lower lip poked forward, and he batted his dark lashes in a somewhat feminine fashion. In a flash, he'd tossed his bag to his feet, spinning the vertex of the chair on his side of the desk between his fingers to straddle it. "Now, now, man. That ain't no way to greet me, after I came in with all this motherf*ckin' pizzazz."
"Carter, leave. I'm working. Can't you see that?" Randall snapped, tearing his eyes from the perfection before him to focus on finishing up a business report for his uncle.
"Eh..." Carter drawled, tapping his index finger to his chin and acting as if he was thinking hard. His eyes switched back to his perturbed victim, then his lips stretched. "...nope."
Randall ignored him. He absolutely despised how gawky his writing became all of a sudden, worsened by the feeling of an intense gaze focused on them. Knowing that Carter would eventually get bored and leave, Randall put his best foot forward in ignoring him, something he was in the process of perfecting.
"You should definitely get a lip ring, Randie. It'd be hot as fuck." Carter mused. Disregarding the heated glare aimed in his direction, he resumed speaking before Randall could curse. "Anyways, I don't wanna disturb you or anything, so I'ma make this quick, alright?" he said in his vulgar way of speaking, preoccupying himself with the task of shuffling through the assortment of books in his bag. Upon finding the math book belonging to them both, he popped it out, slamming it on the table in a way that made some papers elevate. It irritated Randall to abnormal levels.
Of course. "Okay. What's the problem this time, Mr. Al-Balawin?"
"Well," Carter started, drawling. Randall found himself subconsciously biting his own lip as Carter nibbled on his lower lip as part of his habit whenever he was thinking. "Here. This question. Don't get upset, alright? Ya'know I suck balls at math."
YOU ARE READING
Conflicted Eyes, Confusing FeelingsTeen Fiction
"Listen, just because ... that ... happened last night doesn't mean we're friends now, a'right? And I don't expect you to go blabbing, yeah?" The blond tried to step back, but the realization that he was against the sink didn't make his intention f...