|Blame It on the Pheromones
Author: Songes PM
"I didn't mean to accept his offer, but I did it anyway for two reasons: 1) He's hot as hell; and 2) I'm a fucking idiot." m/mRated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Words: 873 - Reviews: 2 - Follows: 1 - Published: 11-24-12 - id: 3077304
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Same story, but with a slight edit. Enjoy :)
Blame It on the Pheromones
I hated to admit it, but damn did his ass look fine in those skin-tight pants he was so fond of. There was very little room for imagination. Although I was quite enjoying the scrumptious view, I couldn't help but have a concerned thought for the blood flow in his legs. I wondered whether he could still feel them. Had they turned purple underneath the thin fabric?
As he turned around, I quickly pulled out a book at random from the bookshelf on my left, pretending to peruse it with the utmost interest. From the corner of my eyes, I saw him coming in my direction. I expected him to walk past me, but he halted at a few inches from my personal bubble.
"Hey," he said with his typical husky voice that made girls and boys go nuts.
I pretended I just noticed his presence. "Hello," I managed to say nonchalantly. What did he want from me? We had chatted a few times throughout the semester, but we weren't exactly friends or anything. Plus, he had the reputation of being a real player and I didn't want anything to do with that species. It was a pity though, because he was easy to get along with and not at all unpleasant to the eyes. But I knew how weak I could be sometimes so I'd rather be safe than sorry.
"Didn't know you were interested in weaving," he said with a lopsided smile.
I looked down at the book I was holding, noticing for the first time that it was indeed about how to master the art of weaving serapes.
"Yeah, it's a... new hobby of mine," I improvised.
"I hear it requires good manual dexterity," he commented.
I nodded. "Totally." The smirk of his face made me pause for a second. What the fuck did he mean by that?
"Are you on a break right now?" he asked casually.
"Um, yeah?" I answered warily, trying my best to read between the lines. Did someone just call me paranoid?
He chuckled softly. "You're so cute it's unreal."
My brows shot up before quickly knitting back together. That was subtle as hell.
"I'm not cute," I countered indignantly. What guy would take cute as a fucking compliment? I'm no sissy, for Buddha's sake.
"Right, you're a badass," he said, rolling his eyes. "A fucking cute badass, though."
Did he get tired of his current toy and was now considering replacing it with me? No fucking way.
"Are you hitting on me?" I queried, annoyance permeating my voice. "'Cause insulting me won't get you anywhere, just FYI." Even if he played it all gentlemanly, wooing me with flowers and shit, I'd still say no. He was the kind of guy with 'trouble' tattooed on his forehead. With neon ink.
"Chill, man," he said. "Let me make up for my rudeness by buying you a drink."
"In the middle of the day?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Whenever you feel like it," he replied. "In the meantime, since we're both having a break, how about we head out for some snacks?"
He made it sound like no big deal, but my mama didn't raise no fool. If I accepted his offer, it'd imply that I also agree to let him buy me a drink later. Not gonna happen.
"No, thank you," I declined. "I'm not really hungry." Actually, I was and a lot. I had skipped lunch to finish a stupid paper on exchange rates and hadn't eaten anything since. Besides, before he came to bother me, I'd been thinking about leaving the library to get myself some food.
"You sure? I thought we could try out this diner on Ste-Catherine Street that just opened a few weeks ago and already got massive praise on Urbanspoon," he pleaded.
"Yeah—no," I said.
"Alright," he sighed. I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other as he scrutinized me with his piercing hazel eyes. "You're uncomfortable," he stated abruptly.
"You're a real genius," I replied, rolling my eyes.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, looking somewhat sheepish. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uneasy or anything."
"It's okay, I'll eventually get over it," I reassured him.
He gave me a little smile and I found his sudden coyness highly suspicious.
"But you don't mind if I buy you that drink eventually, do you? Just a guy's night out without any hidden agenda, yes?" He had somehow turned off his predatory aura and was now staring at me with genuine expectation. Why did he have to look so damn hot?
"Okay," I said before my brain could stop me. For a brief second, his eyes twinkled with something I couldn't identify before returning to normal. With a final hand wave at me, he went away, his slender frame disappearing behind a bookshelf. A strange feeling sank in the pit of my stomach. What the hell had just happened?