A short story by me, Angel Harris :)
Summary: Cuz, like, nigga dead cracked and dipped and like, that’s foul cuz now she losing two niggas and like yo. -nesto
Preview:
“I find you more interesting than industrial psychology 3.”
And in his defense, I probably was. His face was almost sheepish but it was bullshit.
Pursing my lips, I sighed, “Is this the part where I’m supposed to get butterflies in my stomach because a man thinks I’m special?”
His eyes carefully trailed me. I wish it was in a creepy way but he just looked to be analyzing me, like I was something he could not figure out or like there was something he wished to say but couldn’t.
“You need help,” I turned away, continuing my rapid pace towards anywhere that was not this building. It gave me depressing vibrations and I had no signal to see if Lucy messaged me back yet.
“Is this your way of ignoring the attraction you feel for me?”
It had been a joking inquiry but I stopped not believing that someone could actually say shit like that, “I don’t-“
“Are we lying now?”
He never lies.
I did find him striking. Even on his ugly days, like that day, hair oily and slicked back into a high bun, in a black sweatshirt, black joggers and black fucking designer sneakers- he was still attractive with his piercing eyes and a jawline crafted by some omniscient being.
He was fine even if he was pasty.
His personality on the other hand was entirely another problem that required me to take a trip to a monastery to become one with my inner most peaceful thoughts.
“You look like you bite clits for pleasure?” I stepped around him.
His laugh was like a hoot before it turned boisterous. “Are you trying to find out?” he managed out. “You look like the type that likes it.”
Long legs were the devil I quickly found as he did not relent.