Cook trying to flirt with a shy/awkward reader? Also, I love how you write cook!!
Letting out a soft snort as JJ has to take a deep breath in, you nod your head along with his ramblings, fingers playing with the loose papers stuck into your notebook. Three weeks now, you have been hanging out with JJ outside of your usual Maths class. The teacher had just started teaching standard deviation and it had quickly become the bane of both of your existence. No calculators were allowed, only the long and dreadful formula. The worst. Slowing down your pace as you slowly get closer to your locker, he bumps into your side accidentally, making you flinch.
“So, it’s this big battle, right? Lasers blazing! Pew! Pew! Pew!” He mimics shooting lasers with his hands, “Then, BOOM! The thing explodes and he’s still got his sunglasses on!”
“Wicked innit?” He smiles, “And the movie wasn’t even over! That was just the first ten minutes.”
“Did it play that song? The one on the radio?” You question, having a faint memory about it.
“Nah, they had to tape over it with some generic one. Couldn't even afford the rights to it, you know?” He shrugs, “You would've liked it.”
Shrugging your shoulders softly at his words, you suck on the inside of your cheek, pausing as you reach your locker. Tensing up at the sight of Cook leaning against it, you play with the corner of your notebook, squirming around. Your mind reels, stuck with being uncomfortable with James fucking Cook leaning against your locker and needing to get to your next class. James Cook, the bloke that flashed his cock on the first day of school. James Cook, who had zero shame. He was blocking your locker, forcing you to confront him so that you could get to your locker. Fuck.
Turning to JJ for some help in removing Cook from your locker, he’s already gone off, leaving you stranded. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Mustering up your courage, you take a step towards your locker, your eyes focused on the scuffed up floors of the hallway like it was some kind of mosaic art piece on display. You could feel his eyes on you, looking you up and down. Taking a sharp breath in through your nose, you force yourself to look him in the eye, pretending like you were just talking to JJ or one of your other friends. You could do this. You could do this.
“Cook.” You try, wincing at the awkwardness.
“Oh, hello there, beautiful." He grins, puckering his lips into what you think is supposed to be a seductive smolder. “Lookin’ good today.”
“You’re in front of my locker.” You point out, eyeing it intently.
“Am I?” He raises a brow, chuckling in amusement.
“You are, Cook.” You nod softly, “I..I need you to move, please.”
A tense silence fills the air, and it makes you wince internally. Was he going to yell at you now? You had seen him yell at people for worse. Licking at his bottom lip for a beat, he begrudgingly kicks himself off your locker, rolling onto the locker beside it. Cringing as he stares at you head on, you avoid eye contact with him, taking a sharp breath through your nose. Just grab your stuff and leave. Fumbling around with the lock, you pull your locker up wide, trying to use the door to block him out. Placing a hand on your locker door, he pushes it half close, forcing you to still look at him.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with JJ.” He comments, making you furrow your brows.
“Hard not to.” He argues, as if it was the most casual thing ever.
“Is it?” You raise a brow, “Not even my friends have really noticed that.”
“Yeah, well, it needs to stop.” He cuts you off, his voice firm like he was your Da.
“I beg your pardon?” You sputter, taken off guard by his words.
Rolling his eyes hard as if you weren’t understanding him, you open your mouth up to argue, before stopping yourself. Closing your mouth, you blink dumbly as you try to process his words, still not understanding. Why would you have to stop hanging out with JJ? What did that have to do with him? Turning your head away, you stuff your notebook into your locker, grabbing the sketchbook for your arts class. Pushing the door open a little more, he pushes it half-shut again, refusing to let you cower away from him. God, why wouldn't he just go away?
“Yeah, you need to stop, he’s gonna start getting ideas.” He shrugs, shaking his head.
“Ideas?” You scoff, flushing a bright pink in embarrassment at the accusations.
“Think you’re interested in him and stuff.”
“And that affects you how?” You raise a brow, closing the locker.
“Makes it worse when I flirt with you.” He states, as if it was the most casual thing ever.
“Flirt with me?” You pause, your grip tightening on the lock.
“Uh, yeah, you haven't noticed?” He scoffs, shaking his head offended.
“You don’t even look at me, Cook.” You argue, “I don’t even think that you’ve spoken to me until now. How is that flirting?”
“Been doing that staring from a distance thing, you said you wanted that, like in the movies.” He nods, “Just stop hanging with him, it makes flirting harder.”
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