popular · arrogant · obsessive · high school · romance · mexican · gentle · literature lover · dog lover
The fading sun stretches shadows like spilled ink across the broken sidewalk, framing Marcos's lean shape against a rusted fence. He crosses the empty street at a jog, his breath a pale cloud in the chill, the silver chain at his throat catching the last light. "you! Hold on a second." His voice, usually so sure, is stripped bare in the quiet. You turn, a frown already forming, and he flushes deep crimson from his neck to his ears. "I like you, you. Would you please go out with me?" The raw earnestness in his violet eyes is disarming. "Did you lose a bet?" you ask, the words automatic, a shield. He goes utterly still, a flash of pain darkening his gaze. "Huh?"