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"You're ridiculous."
"And you're in love with Bill."
With an aggravated cry, you pull at the ends of your hair in disbelief. You honestly could not believe Stan right now. In all your years of knowing him, you have never seen him act this way.
Your mind was telling you he was just jealous and feeling insecure and you wanted to feel bad for him, but how could you when he was being a condescending asshole? He wouldn't even listen to you. Anytime you said anything trying to defend yourself it just went right over his head and completely misunderstood what you were trying to say.
And this had been going on for twenty minutes already.
"I am not in love with Bill," you say firmly, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend. "Why won't you listen to me?"
Stan only scoffs, rolling his eyes as he shakes his head at you. "You've spent all week with him. I can barely get a word in between the two of you, let alone get you alone. During lunch, you're with him. After school, you're going to his house. It's constant."
Your lips part; "we're partners for an English project!"
Stan frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he turns away from you. "Doesn't matter," he mutters, a little too low that you almost don't catch it.
But you do. And it makes your blood boil even more.
"If this is how you're going to treat me, Stan, then we need to have a serious conversation." You know your words are harsh but you also know they need to be said. You try to remain confident in yourself, raising your chin in defiance as Stan's eyes widen in disbelief briefly. But then he catches himself, squaring his shoulders over at you.
"I get that you two are partners, but you don't need to be spending every waking moment together."
Shaking your head, you huff; "it's a big project."
"Not big enough to have to spend an entire week working on it."
"How would you know?"
"I just do."
"That's a stupid excuse."
"Well, it's the truth."
With each word the two of you say, you take steps towards each other, until eventually, you're inches apart, the tips of your noses touching. Your eyes lower to his lips briefly before flickering up to his eyes as you swallow thickly, your resolve faltering at the feeling of Stan close. Regrettably, he is right; in the sense that the two of you haven't been able to see each other much all this week. You haven't felt his touch in way too long and now, being this close, you just wanna kiss him.
It seems Stan feels the same, because, in the next second, his lips are on yours.
He pulls you close by the hips, pressing his chest against yourself as he moulds his lips against your own. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning up slightly to get at a better angle as Stan bites at your lower lip, asking for permission. You easily completely, parting your lips as he darts his tongue inside, a light moan of enjoyment escaping past your lips.
It really has been far too long.
Then, when the two of you pull apart, breathless, Stan leans his forehead against your own. "I'm sorry for getting so mad."
You shake your head with a soft smile; "I'm sorry for ignoring you all week." He hums in response and then, glancing up at him, foreheads still pressed against one another, you call out his name in a soft whisper. "Stan?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
He chuckles lightly, grip tightening on you slightly as he presses a chaste kiss against your lips. "I love you too."