2p!AmericaxReader-Change (2)

(Name) entered the chatroom.

You: Hey Bea, How is it there?

Bea: Eh, I’m fine. A bit bored actually, got anything to say?

You: Well Finals are just around the corner and I’m stuck at home to study.

Bea: Yeah and you’re wasting your time chatting to me ^-^ Are you purposely procrastinating? Don’t make me as a scapegoat now.

You: No, I’m just a bit pissed off. Just letting out some steam or else I won’t be concentrating on studying.

Bea: Oh really. What’s the matter?

You: It’s a long story…

Bea: Tell me. I’ve got nothing else to do.

You: You sure?

Bea: Yeah.

You: So last night, I came home from school a bit late right around 9 in the evening. My mom had this 7 o clock curfew and she freaks out when I don’t come home at that time. Then when I was walking home I was checking my phone then suddenly this freak comes up and takes it off my hands so I chased him to an alley. He crossed off to the other side of this fence and ran away with my phone. Then this other guy comes up with a knife and concerned me. Then this other guy comes up, he was one of my classmates btw, then he stabs the man with the knife. I mean I was thankful that he saved me in all but I still wonder how he got there so quickly. So I got home pretty late then my mom screamed at me for being late and didn’t even mind the fact that I was in mortal danger. Then she grounds me a week. That’s so unfair Well at least my devil of a brother can’t bother me here.

Bea: Wow that is pretty long. Wait up I have to get a drink.

Bea: OMG, are you okay?

Bea: Who the heck is this guy He sounds like your knight in shining armor. Oh I smell a love story. (Swooning) I hope I have my own knight to save me

You: God Bea, don’t even think that he’s a knight. He’s nothing close to gallant, if anything he’s an arrogant prick.

Bea: Hehe prick

Bea: This is so a love story.

You: No it isn’t

Bea: Tell me more. Is he cute, handsome, how tall is he?

You: Well he is pretty han

(You retyped the message before sending it)

You: He isn’t cute. But fine I’ll try to sound as nice as I can. He’s fairly tall. He’s tanned, has red eyes, darkish brown hair that turns red when under the sun.

Bea: Sounds handsome actually. Can you be more specific about the height?

You: Well he’s average I guess around the height of a normal teenage boy.

You: Why would you be interested about height? I couldn’t care less if he was taller or shorter than me.

Bea: Height tells everything m’dear

Bea: How about personality wise? Is he good?

You: Ugh! Don’t start with that. He so damn persistent and I tell you it isn’t the good kind. He keeps asking me that I should be his girl or whatever. He’s a bad influence.

Bea: This is so a love story.

Bea: Tell me more, more. Place of meeting, time, weather anything

You: He transferred to my school around two and a half months ago.

You: Stop pestering me about him. Just thinking about him makes me cringe

You: This is not a love story. More like a murder story with the POV of the murderer. I swear if he calls me babe one more time. I will kill him.

Bea: It so is a love story~

Bea: Did it ever occur to you that maybe he genuinely likes you?

You: Nope. He’s pretty insincere

You: And so not my type

Bea: Hey don’t judge a book by it’s cover. Who knows maybe he just doesn’t know how to say that he likes you. A lot of people are a lot like that you know.

You: I guess. I’m just not used to people liking me.

Bea: I know what to do. Why don’t you ask him about why he likes you?

You: He’ll probably come up with something stupid

Bea: Hey you’ll never know till you try.

You: Okay fine, I’ll go ask him then.

You: What kind of stories do you read anyway?

~~~~~~~

You could feel someone tug at the end of your sleeves but you were too preoccupied with reading through your notes to pay attention, again. People always did say, you were pretty bad with multitasking. You twisted your head to your side, immediately locking into cerulean colored irises. “What is it Artie?”

Your good friend, Arthur had a sullen look in his eyes, said, “Poppet, I want to go home.”

“Huh, it’s not even that late yet.”

True, it was just around 4 in the afternoon. About half and hour had passed since you had invited Arthur to go with you to the library to study for the upcoming student’s omen a.k.a finals. It’s not that you were addicted to studying but since summer break is approaching as well, you wanted to butter up your mother with good grades. And the only way to do that was to study like there was no tomorrow.

Arthur whined, “B-but I want to bake…”

“Then why did you come with me in the first place then?”

“I’ll be a bad friend if I didn’t go with you,” he pouted.

A pang of guilt surged within the bowel of your heart. ‘Great, now I’m the bad guy?’ You let out a sigh and set your notes down. You know how much Arthur loves to bake, in fact that was his favorite hobby that at times he just needs to do it to breathe. “Okay then, you can go if you don’t want to study. You could have just said so. I mean I could understand you know.”

Blue eyes that seemed to glitter widened. “Really, you would. Oh thank you?” Arthur wrapped his thin noodle arms around you and nearly squeezed the air out of you. What can you say, the guy’s a hugger, not that you were bothered.

“But then you’ll be alone again, I don’t want that,” Arthur said with contemplation.

“No it’s completely fine. I can study on my own.”

He shook his head. “Wait right here.” He shot up of his seat and rushed out through the doors of the library.

‘I’m fine on my own.’

You took up your notes again and leafed through the pages, recalling all the lessons you learned.

Between rests, your eyes caught something red. You blinked, ‘maybe it was just your imagination.’

“Look who I found, (Name),” a cheery voice called out, stealing your attention from the words in the pages. As a reaction, you craned your neck up.

“Hey, babe,” ‘he’ said.

Just what I need, you mumbled under your breath and ignored him. Arthur was just beside him. Both Alfred and Arthur were classmates during their middle school years so it wasn’t much of a surprise when you saw the two of them buddy buddy with each other.

“Al, why don’t you help with (Name) with studying?”

The offer just made Alfred’s smirk more smug than it should. “Oh no. I don’t need help. Especially not his help,” you made sure to point it out.

“Oh come now, (Name). You should give Al a try. You know he’s pretty smart, even smarter than me,” Arthur proclaimed proudly.

“I’m fine. I work better when I’m on my own.” Translation: I want to get away from that guy.

“See you.”

Both of them had disregarded your words and still, Alfred stayed behind.

“What’cu studying?” He asked.

You paid no mind to him and got back to your books. “Trigonometry, go away.”

“Meanie, I just want to help.”

“Well I don’t need help.”

“Then, I’ll go study on my own.”

When you peered over your book, you saw him taking out a few things from his bag. A pencil, a notebook and a textbook. He set down the things on the table. Well at least he’s shutting up, you thought.

“Hey can I borrow your notes? I did take any during the class ‘cuz teach was boring me to death.”

“No, now go away.” Without even noticing it, Alfred had already placed your notebook in his hands and started to leaf through them without your consent. You tried to take it from him but he held it above your head and out of reach. “Fine, just go away after reading them.”

“Sure!” He began to copy things down while you were just waiting for him to be over.

Feeling bored, you finally asked him, “Hey why do you like me?”

“I dunno I just do,” he said dumbly, a wide smile on his smug face.

“What do you mean, you just do? There’s gotta be a reason.”

“Why do you ask, anyway?”

“Isn’t it rude to answer a question with another question?”

“Girl, you know I’m rude.”

You shrugged. Just talking to this guy makes your blood boil.

“I’ll give you one reason, right now, you’re talking to me and letting me copy your notes.” You looked up, puzzled. What does he mean by that? “Here,” he slides your notebook back to you. “Thanks.”

“W-wait, what do you mean by that?”

He collects his things from the desk and packs them in his bag. He smirks, “Means your nice.”

“N-nice,” you mumbled. He thought you were…nice? Weird, no one you knew called you nice (except for Arthur and Bea).

He had already left leaving you to wondering and recalling what you had done for him to say that.