burn out loser (pt2): ❛you're paired with riki nishimura as your lab partner. otherwise known as the stoner freak that everyone knew to avoid. you only have one focus, well two. get an a in the class then get as far from him as possible. but now that he's met you, riki wants nothing else but you. and riki always gets what he wants. ❜ pt1
۶ৎpairing: stoner(artist)!riki x meangirl!reader ۶ৎgenre: smut. college au ۶ৎtw: smut (mdni!) hentai (description of nude drawings), slow burn, obsession, sexual tension, "will they won't they", riki is a yearnerrrr, mild marijuana use, suggestive themes, very slight emotional manipulation, explicit language, jealous riki nishimura. ۶ৎwc: 18.5k
an: i started writing what's now the third part before this and desperately wanted to show the progression of their relationship & the moments where their feelings start to grow for each other!! the scenes take place over 2-3 wks, which is why this is sooo long (omg) this was very very very fun to write & i hope u like it, please let me know what you think i love delving into the minds of the characters and the storyline! part three is in the works xo
the first few times you ask, riki ignores you completely without thinking twice about it. a blank stare set on his features as you spoke only to turn his attention back to his notes when you finished. not sparing a single word, just deciding that what you were asking him didn't deserve an answer. you can glare at him with that entitled little scowl all you wanted. he had grown accustomed to ignoring that too.
his eyes gravitate toward you before you've even fully entered the room wednesday afternoon. you're cooing obnoxiously with one of your friends, blowing kisses and promising to meet up for lunch; acting as if you were going off to war or something. he watches as you smile, fingers twirling the loose curl that rests against your cheek as you make your way to your shared desk. he's sure to keep his sketchbook tucked beneath his forearm as you inch closer, anticipating what you're planning on saying to him.
he's got his hood pulled over his sandy blonde hair, an earbud tucked neatly in his left ear. you're plopping down in the seat on his right, eyes drifting to the dramatic way he covered up his work – as if you gave a damn what he was doodling. you don't bother to mask your scoff, eyes rolling at how extra he was being over his stupid sketchbook. like you were planning on snatching it from him at any moment, so he had to guard it with his life. news flash, no one, especially not you, cared.
riki doesn't look up as you settle beside him, he's too focused on whatever he's drawing. long fingers moving lazily across the page, pencil scratching in quick, confident strokes that he never lets anyone see. and each brush of the pencil has your eyes flickering over, despite the fact you've decided you didn't care. and every time your eyes lift, riki is tilting his sketch book away. every single time.
your patience is snapping the fourth time he does it, an annoyed huff leaving your lips. “are you secretly bad at drawing or something?” you're hissing out in a whisper, eyes narrowed in his direction with your chin propped on the palm of your head.
he feels the way his mouth twitches involuntarily, amusement flashing across his features. the expression is quickly masked by his normal 'too bored' one, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “maybe,” anyone else would take that as a sign to stop pushing, but you weren't just anyone. your body turns in your chair, long legs folded at the knee as you stare him down.
“then why are you always drawing?” there's bite in your tone, the same way that there always is. because even though you were gearing up to ask him for something – you still had to keep up with that attitude of yours. riki doesn't even bother to look up at you before he's answering. “why are you always talking?” he says, voice even, bored. but you don't miss the smirk that lifts the corners of his lips.
you're rolling your eyes so hard he can hear it and that only has his grin growing wider, eyes staying fixed on his page. despite how rude he's being, you press on, because you were curious now, especially with how secretive he always was with that stupid book. and him telling you no so easily triggered your obsession with always getting your way, there was no way you'd let up now. you found it hard to believe that no one has ever seen one of his drawings so you didn't understand why you couldn't too.
riki was constantly drawing. during lectures, through lunch, in the halls when he should be in study hall. so many times you've seen him with his back pressed against a wall, his legs pulled toward to his chest, sketchbook resting in his lap and a blunt tucked behind his ear. and you also noticed that the book was hardly ever the same, that meant pages of pages of his drawings existed and he refused to show you a single one. it didn't seem the least bit fair to you.
you've caught glimpses before. dark shading, eyes, hands, strange twisting lines... but it's never enough to make out a full picture. and that drives you insane. especially because you could tell that his drawings were actually good. it was obvious from the little bits that you've seen and how confidently his hands moved across the page. there was no way he wasn't a good artist, so why was he gatekeeping it!?
“you're such an idiot,” the insult doesn't phase him in the slightest, after the weeks spent together – he's grown used to the way you were constantly slighting him. silence falls over the two of you just as the professor is stepping into the room and you move as if you've given up. flipping your laptop open and scrolling through your word doc until you find your last page of notes, straightening in your chair and turning your attention to the front of the room.
riki doesn't move. just keeps on drawing as if class wasn't about to start, as if he didn't need this information in order to pass, let alone be useful for your assignments. nine full minutes pass of rhythmic typing and the unmistakable drag of riki's pencil against his page, each swipe carrying an irritating amount of skill and you can't help but stare. eyes locked on the movement of his fingers. they were long, ridiculously long. silver rings wrapped around his index and middle. you were shocked to see how clean his nails were, neatly trimmed with a light shine like he actually went and got them done. intriguing.
long veins twist from his bony knuckles up the length of his arm and your eyes follow them until your gaze is dragging up to his face, shocked to see he was already staring at you. “one of us needs to be paying attention,” he says, eyes shifting to the front of the room where the professor drones on about molecular bonds or whatever. you ignore his words, had already learned that he didn't need to pay attention to know what was being taught. he'd repeated entire lectures on days you were sure he was fully dissociated. he didn't even need to take notes, that annoyed you too.
you're letting out another dramatic huff, shifting in your seat so you're facing him again. “okay, i don't care if you want to be all weird and mysterious.” you lie, arms crossed over your chest and subconsciously you angle your head just enough to peek over his arms in hopes of catching a glimpse of what he's working on. he has his book flipped over like he knew you'd never stop trying.
“you sound like you care,” his words come out through a laugh. he doesn't even bother hiding how funny he thinks all of this is, the fact that you're practically throwing a fit because he told you no. arms crossed and glossed lips stuck in a cute little pout, he's committing the expression to memory – the dozens of scenarios he could draw up flooding his thoughts.
his mind drifts, picturing how you'd look with that same pout except knelt down in front of him, cum smeared on your cheeks as you silently begged for more. he's making a mental note to start working on that as soon as he got home. “can you at least draw me something i can see?” it takes a second for riki to register what you're asking, his mind reeling with images of you. and when he does fully hear you, he doesn't answer right away, tossing the idea around in his head.
draw you something you could see. there would be no harm in that, right? it's not like riki wasn't capable of creating something neutral, as a matter of fact, the drawing he was hiding from you was the least bit sexual. it was a box of cigarettes, a girl hidden within the pack, smoking one. so he could draw you something tame, something that you could see just so you'd stop asking.
the only problem was riki considered each and every one of his drawings personal. they were sacred. showing you one would be the same as taking a magnify glass into the inner, darkest corners of his mind. but, looking at you now, riki was clearly seeing the reason why you always got your way. why everyone found it so hard to say no to you, because not only were you annoyingly persistent... you were also cute as hell.
his eyes bore into yours as the classroom hums quietly around you. keyboards clicking, chairs squeaking as the minutes tick by, soft chatter fills the room as the class is instructed to discuss today's notes with their partners, something you and riki never took part in. entirely his fault. somebody laughs too loud near the windows but neither of you look their way, riki is too busy sizing you up and you're daring him to say no again. your eyes never leave his for a second and staring at him so long, you can't help but notice the details that make him up.
long lashes guard his pretty dark eyes, the sharp line of his jaw that disappears beneath the collar of his faded gray hoodie. thick pink lips that you're only now realizing never appear chapped. beauty marks scattered all over his otherwise flawless skin. he looks calm, seemingly unaffected by the expectant look on your face. like he couldn't care less if rejecting your offer would disappoint you and that annoyed you, mainly because the expression looked so pretty on him.
his shoulder lifts after what feels like hours, that same smirk resting on his lips. “maybe,” you don't even give his words room to breathe before you're responding. “that's not an answer,” you scoff under your breath, kicking at his shoe lightly under the desk. he doesn't even flinch, shoulders lifting in another shrug as his lips purse to the side. “well, it's the one you got,” he says, watching the way you huff and roll your eyes before turning your attention back to your laptop.
riki doesn't miss the way you're pulling your lips back into that pout, long manicured fingers toying with the tiny heart charm hanging from your necklace. your lashes flutter while you read through the notes from the last few lectures on your computer, lips moving as your eyes scan over the words. your soft curls are pulled back in a complicated looking bun today instead of framing your face the way it usually does. you're not looking at him but he can still see the exact moment your face is relaxing, pretty features no longer scrunched up. and that has him rolling his eyes, flipping to a clean page of his sketchbook before reaching for his pencil.
he had fully intended to ignore your request. that was usually the best option when it came to you. if he ignored you long enough, you'd eventually start entertaining yourself and he could go back to doing whatever he was before you came up with your demands. the second the tip of his pencil is hitting the page though, his thoughts are proven wrong. his pencil slides easily across the paper, the familiar heat raising up the back of his neck.
the professor says something at the front of the room, calling attention back to him, but riki doesn't hear a single word. he's too focused on the version of you he was creating against this paper. his hands move faster than his thoughts, he's drawn and redrawn the lines of your face so much that he basically has them memorized. he's careful with drawing the curve of your jaw, the gentle slope of your nose and the permanent annoyed pout of your lips.
you're chewing absentmindedly at the edge of your thumb, brows pinched while you tried to keep up with the experiment that was being demonstrated in front of you. riki shades carefully beneath your lashes, jaw tightening slightly when you're laughing at something that's being said before your gaze drops to your laptop again, quickly typing a few sentences with your lower lip tucked between your teeth. you don't release it even when you're looking back up.
riki tries not too look too hard at you. he doesn't even need to. he's sure to keep his expression neutral as to not give anything away, but no matter how calm he looked – he was spiraling internally. because mapping out the details of your face forced honestly out of him. and riki hated the obvious truth that stared back at him. the things that he wasn't entirely ready to admit. like the fact he found your side profile especially beautiful, how he knew exactly the lines and dimples that appeared when you were scowling at him.
he especially hates how he's memorized your face enough to recreate it without effort.
the end of class rolls around before either of you know it and you had forgotten all about your denied request. mostly because riki had gone silent after rejecting you, scribbling in that stupid sketchbook and not sparing you a second's glance. not that he's ever had much to say before, but you can't help but notice that he was being quieter than usual. there was no teasing when you were raising your hand to answer every question, no sarcastic remark when you're reminding him of the reading required to finish the lab. not even a smirk when you're handed back last week's individual assignments and he received a perfect score.
he just draws. consistently.
it's the type of focus you're sure he saved only for his drawings, because you've never seen him this concentrated before. it's a world different from the lazy expression he normally wore as he pretended to study or sped through assignments. it was unsettling to witness. especially for an hour straight without any breaks.
the professor dismisses the class and you're pushing your laptop closed, easily shoving it into your purse as you stand. students flood noisily to the door and your eyes flicker to riki who has barely moved in the last hour. “did you even take notes?” his eyes lift to find yours after a second, hand gliding over the paper, adding his signature you're assuming, his eyes stayed on you.
“no,” he says simply, lifting his bag onto his shoulder as he stands from his chair. you're letting out another scoff. it's honestly becoming the only sound you're capable of making around him. “you're going to fail. and the last thing i need is for your lazy ass to drag me down with you,” you warn, shocked by the loud laugh that leaves his lips. “i'm smarter than you, princess. did you forget?” there's an unmistakable teasing to his tone that has you snorting softly, eyes rolling as he lifts his sketchbook from the table.
without a word he's ripping out the page he had been working on so secretly all class, extending his arm to hold it out to you. you're reaching for it wearily, surprised that he didn't snatch it back at the last second. your eyes are focusing on the image and you have to blink a few times in order to take in what you're looking at. even though it was embarrassingly clear what he had drawn. it's you. and it wasn't vague either. it was you. your exact side profile staring back at you on this sheet of paper that the boy you referred to as a brain dead loser handed to you.
“riki, this is...” you start, but the second your eyes are lifting you're being met with the slam of the door. “wait!” you call after him, despite the fact he can no longer hear you. you're scrambling to snatch up all your belongings, careful not to bend the drawing as you follow behind him, catching his tall frame turning the corner just as you're prying the door open. “are you serious...” you grumble, legs moving before you can think to chase after him, but you don't get very far before you're knocking right into someone.
soft hands keep you from hitting the floor, but your purse and all it's contents spill onto the tiles along with riki's picture. “whoa! slow down,” your best friend, isis is saying through a laugh, eyes scanning over the flustered expression on your face. “no need to rush, i'm right here.” she grins, ready to joke before her eyes are taking in your scattered belongings on the floor, gaze landing on the very obvious self portrait that lays among the mess.
“what's this?” she's bending down before you have the chance to react, plucking the picture up between her fingers and inspecting it like there was some secret code hidden within the lines. “it's nothing, i-” you start but she's shooting you a wide eyed expression that has your words catching. “is this you!?” she eyes the drawing carefully before doing the same to you, even going as far as to reach out to turn your head to the side, comparing the side profile of the photo with yours.
“oh my god. this is you. did riki draw this?” it's easy to guess, mainly because you spent so much time complaining about how his grades never suffered yet he spent all of his free time scribbling in his sketchbook. they all thought it was funny, how worked up you'd get when realizing he got a higher score than you without needing to put in any effort. but this photo was no joke, there was seriousness within each pencil stroke that just couldn't be ignored. “hello? riki gave this to you?” isis repeats when too long has passed of you not saying anything.
your shoulders are lifting in a shrug, reaching for the picture but she's just barely holding it out of your reach. you're huffing, bending down to pick up the rest of your stuff off of the floor. “yes, he did.” you say finally with a roll of your eyes, “now give it back before you-” she's cutting you off with a gasp, eyes wide and glued to the drawing. “the other girls need to see this,” she's saying, darting off before you can fully register what's going on. once you do, you're rushing behind her. “isis! oh my god, no.” your bodies weave through the students, turning quick corners and barely avoiding colliding with anyone.
isis is fast, you don't catch up with her until she's already outside rushing toward the table your friends always occupied at this time of day. and just your luck, they were all out there. clover sat with an expression entirely too focused for what she was doing, gluing press-on nails to the tips of her fingers. viki was typing away at her computer, eyes flashing between the screen and her written notes beside her working on the essay that was due at the end of the month. and like always, emmy was in her own little world – cuddling close to her boyfriend, jay, his arm set on her shoulders as he pressed kisses against her skin. loving every last giggle he's able to pull from her.
their eyes all slowly snap up when isis is reaching the table, slapping the drawing down in the center. for a second, no one says anything. isis is pointing dramatically across the table with one arm while holding you back with the other. “viki, you owe me fifty bucks. i was right!” brows raise at her words, everyone leaning forward to take a look at the piece of paper on the table.
viki is letting out a gasp, large eyes lifting up to look between you two. “oh my god. riki drew this?” isis is nodding, a proud smile on her face as if she were the one that drew it. “mhm!” she's extending her arm out toward viki, as you give up fighting against her, arms crossed over your chest. “pay up.” your eyes narrow, their words fully processing now.
“wait.” you're pointing between the two of them. “you bet that he'd draw me?” isis snorts, plopping down into the empty bench space, scooting over to make room for you to sit beside her. “no, of course not.” viki says as she reaches into her purse, to grab her wallet – counting out fifty dollars before sliding the cash across the table. her eyes flicker back over to you once isis takes it. “we bet that he's in love with you,”
your jaw drops, eyes blinking as snickers erupt around the table. “what?” you say, though you heard them loud and clear. “riki isn't in love with me,” your head shakes violently, hands waving in front of you like you're physically trying to reject their words. “he so is,” viki says with a laugh, gesturing toward the image that still rests on the table. “look at all the detailing, oh my god.”
emmy reaches for the drawing carefully, she lifts it by the edges oohing and ahhing like she's handling museum grade artwork instead of a normal sketch from some random college boy. “oh, he's head over heels in love.” she says with a gasp, which has jay leaning over to peek at the drawing himself. his brow raises slightly a soft scoff falling from his lips. “ehh, i could do that.” he says with a shrug.
clover is rolling her eyes at his words, “you couldn't, shut up.” she waves him off, extending her hand toward emmy. “let me see.” the drawing is handed across the table and clover holds it the same delicate way emmy had been, viki is leaning over too to get a better look at it. “wait! he even added that heart gem you sometimes put on your cheek.” her eyes snap up to inspect your features. “you're not even wearing one today,” she points out with a grin. “that means he's always paying attention to you. he's so in love, fuck.”
the drawing gets passed from clover to viki, back to emmy over to isis and that's when you're able to grab it, quickly tucking it between the pages of your textbook. “okay, that's enough.” you grumble, paying too much attention to carefully putting the photo away – sure not to bend any edges. it's tucked away safely, your book is closed over it and the conversation had moved on from you.
yet you could still see the drawing each time you blinked, how focused he looked while he was making it and the unmistakable redness at the tip of his ears when he was handing it to you. and the way your friends sounded so sure just by seeing the way he drew you, it didn't make sense. they were being ridiculous, obviously they were. completely and uttering ridiculous.
riki wasn't in love with you. he couldn't be. he was annoying, arrogant, lazy, impossible to work with. why would he be in love with you? the same boy that spent entire lectures spaced out in his sketchbook, showed up to study sessions high and never paid attention when he needed to. and you were the complete opposite of that, there was absolutely no reason for him to be in love with you.
the rest of the week rolls by like it normally would, long lectures, classes with your friends, arguing with riki over assignments, extra credit work. everything was seemingly normal, yet you felt different each time you were flipping open your notebook – being met with the drawing given to you mere days ago. it shouldn't effect you as much as it does. and for this long either, it had been days since riki had torn a page from his sketchbook, holding it out and walking away without any explanation. and he hadn't mentioned it since then, so why were you still replaying the moment like it was some type of profound development in your relationship?
nothing had changed, he was still annoying. still lazy. still attached to your chemistry grade in the most frustrating way. there was no reason why he was flooding your thoughts every few hours like he was anything more than a nuisance. you realize sometime saturday morning that the real problem wasn't the portrait, or the gross attention to detail, it was your friends. they had gotten in your head with that whole 'he's in love with you', nonsense and now you couldn't shake the possibility of that actually being true.
and how it could effect your grade in the future. no matter how many times you explained that riki was an artist and artists noticed things, they never let up. viki had even started referring to him as your 'future husband' each time you brought him up to complain. emmy and isis had somehow constructed an entire relationship timeline based solely on delusion. no wonder you couldn't get him out of your head, your friends made sure it was impossible.
the weekend passes in a blur, more studying, cramming. avoiding pointless hangouts with an excuse of needing to get your work done. in reality, you just needed to spend some time alone – get your feelings in order before you had to start up the school week again. and by monday morning you're more confused than you had been on wednesday when all of this started. you had texted riki twice this weekend, nothing major, everything to do with being lab partners, but you found yourself reading into his responses more than you normally would.
there was your first message friday night, it had taken him four hours to respond and you couldn't help but wonder what he was doing in the time that he wasn't answering you. more curious than anything, because you could only assume that he was focused on drawing – like he always was. and you couldn't help but wonder what he could possibly be drawing and if it had anything to do with you. even thinking that felt delusional. it was one portrait that you basically begged for, why would you spend hours drawing you after that?
anyway, the exchange went like this:
yn. (lab freak) | 21:36 did you take notes this morning? i feel like im missing smth. riki nishimura | 01:17 no.
and that was it. no follow up, no question on what you could possibly be missing. just two letters. two letters that took him four hours to type out by the way. you didn't see the message until the next day and it had you in a sour mood all morning, hence your sudden saturday realization of why you were feeling like this over a loser you really couldn't care less about. your damn friends and their teasing, to reiterate.
the next message was midday on sunday. he answered much faster this time, but still with the same level of dryness that you hadn't realized until now was in most of his messages.
yn. (lab freak) | 15:22 we need to be in class early tmrw. idk what im missing riki nishimura | 15:24 got u
again, that was it. and you spend much longer than you're willing to admit staring at your message log. eyes rolling with a scoff after a few minutes of staring had passed. yeah right, he was in love with you. he couldn't even hold a proper conversation with you, your friends were just chatting shit like they always did. you were repeating that thought all throughout your classes on monday, reminding yourself each time you caught a glimpse of him in the halls and it was working.
by the afternoon, the possibility was so far from your head it's almost laughable that you had even been considering it in the first place. it's six minutes before you should be meeting riki to go over the notes that you didn't have. you had every intention to be there on time, early even. but the vending machine in the left corner of the dining hall clearly had other plans for you.
“are you kidding me!?” you're grumbling, fingers punching against the numbers aggressively.
riki spots you the moment he's rounding the corner, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he takes lazy steps toward the chemistry lab. his head tilts as he watches you, taking in the annoyed expression on your features and the way you push the buttons of the vending machine repeatedly. you look hot, like you always do and he's not ashamed of the way his eyes travel over your body.
your shirt is simple. just a plain white short sleeved top, nothing flashy about it. but the way the fabric stretched tight over your frame, fitted enough to look intentional without making it seem like you tried too hard has him staring harder than he should be. the shirt stops several inches above your waist, highlighting the dip that he's imagined tracing with his hands more times than he can count. gold chains drape across your hips and stomach, glinting whenever you move.
the skirt you wear is even worse. its tiny, faded denim that looked a bit worn. and it rides up slightly higher on one thigh as you shift your weight, growing impatient with the machine you're fighting. it's becoming annoying how badly he wants to just bend you over and the fact that he can't, can only sketch the moment but he'd never know exactly how you felt beneath him.
honestly, everything about you had been annoying him lately. the way you glared at him, the pretty smiles you saved only for your friends, how close you sat without even realizing it, the sweet smell of your perfume. how you'd always appear in every face he drew – no matter how many times he swore he was done drawing you. yet he couldn't stop his brain from cataloging every last detail about you, storing them away for later. he's already mentally saving the annoyed expression you're wearing right now to use tonight.
“ugh seriously,” you groan, bending down to push the flap of the vending machine back, checking if any of your food had dropped out without you noticing. it hadn't. riki can't help the chuckle that falls from his lips, head shaking from side to side as he makes his way toward you.
you feel his warmth before you fully realize that it's him. one second you're fighting with a vending machine that clearly has some type of vendetta against you, and the next a hand is appearing beside your shoulder. long fingers bracing against glass and effectively enveloping you in his bubble. riki's hip bumps yours lightly, just enough to push you out of the way and you're suddenly aware of how close he is to you. his chest pressed to your shoulder, you can feel the rumble of his voice as he speaks.
“this machine eats bills. you have to use your card,” he's learned that one the hard way, hundreds of dollars wasted before he was putting two and two together. his words barely reach you at first, lips parting slightly as your head tilts up to look at him. and unfortunately seeing him this close undoes all of the mental preparation you've done all morning. because he looks good, effortlessly. and it was ridiculously annoying.
his red racing jacket hangs off his frame in way that should swallow him whole, but instead it does the opposite. the bright red of the fabric brings out the tan undertones of his skin – the pinkness of his lips. his sleeves are too long, bunched up at the elbow so you're able to see the silver jewelry that adorn his wrists and knuckles. you hate that you've started noticing his hands.
especially now because they seem to be everywhere lately. handing you erasers in the middle of lectures, turning pages in text books during study sessions, dragging through his messy sandy blond hair. resting against your waist in daydreams you refuse to examine too closely.
his baseball cap sits low over his eyes, shadowing the upper half of his face, leaving only the sharp line of his nose and mouth visible as he glances down at the payment screen. he's digging through his pocket with his free hand, pulling his wallet out wordlessly. tapping his heavy black card against the screen without even looking, fingers flying as he presses the same buttons you had been before. only this time the machine actually starts rumbling.
the sandwich falls first, chicken salad. and then your sparkling water. he presses a few more buttons, getting himself a protein bar and that shoots out immediately too. you watch as he crouches down, pushing the flap of the machine back to retrieve your items. he hands both of your things up with this annoying cocky smile, eyes glinting as you take it. “bon appetit,” he grins and you're rolling your eyes out of habit.
“thanks,” you mutter, the world coming out reluctantly. as if you're being physically forced to say it. and it's not like you don't appreciate his help, you would've been here all day if it wasn't for him. it's how annoyingly attractive he looked while helping and the fact that you weren't able to ignore it as easily anymore. “do you want me to pay you back?” the question barely leaves your mouth before he's letting out a short scoff through his nose.
“it was six bucks,” he says like you've suggested something genuinely ridiculous. you had. who would charge six dollars for anything? especially when he had voluntarily helped you. he could've kept walking, kept his six dollars to himself. of course you didn't need to pay him back. and he found it funny that you would even think that you needed to.
did your friends suck or something? he's tearing into his protein bar, taking a large bite before his head tilts toward the direction of the science hall. “come on,” he's already starting to walk ahead, back turning toward you like he was sure that you'd follow. “we need to study and we're already late,” he mocks the tone that you frequently use on him, walking forward and you stand there staring at the back of his head for a second. the thoughts that you had shooed away rushing back.
guys didn't just do favors for random girls out of nowhere, right? maybe your friends weren't so far off, because six dollars wasn't a lot, right – but he could've just kept walking. he saw you fumbling and struggling and decided to stop and help you. that had to mean something in guy world, right?
you've decided to use the time you spent with riki as an opportunity to gather evidence of whether or not your friends' hypothesis of him being in love with you were in fact correct. it started with his rescue at the vending machine, creating a possible yes. he helped you figure out your notes, being way more attentive than you've ever seen him before. another yes. but then he ignored you for the rest of the day, even when you waved at him across the hall. back to no.
tuesday morning you texted him to meet in the quad, you needed his half of the packet in order to perfect yours. he didn't text back, so no. but then he was there waiting before you even got to school, so back to yes. he texted you tuesday night, a funny video that related to a comment you made days ago. big yes. but then he left you on read right after that, so back to no.
and we could never forget each time he rejected your requests to see his sketchbook, those were the biggest no's if you've ever seen them before. so by the time wednesday was rolling around, you were more confused than ever. and it wasn't even like you had feelings for riki, he was still everything that you decided he was when you were first meeting him. you just hated the ambiguity of it all. because why would he draw you with so much detail, but then ignore you immediately after?
it didn't make sense. he didn't make sense.
the two of you occupy your usual table near the back of the room. professor alexander has a video playing at the front of the room about reaction rates, but everyone is mainly doing their own thing. except you, you're taking notes. raising your hand and requesting bits to be replayed as you typed rhythmically. riki is drawing beside you, head bowed and arm guarding his book like it always does.
the fact that he somehow maintains his academic rank despite spending every lecture doodling remains one of the greatest injustices you've ever witnessed and you'd never stop mentioning it for as long as you were forced to know him. still, you take your notes peacefully. gliding the cursor over important sentences to highlight them, adding comments in the margins. these were good notes. maybe some of the best notes you've ever taken, so your annoyance when someone is calling your name is justified.
you're glancing up with furrowed brows riki's head lifting along with yours. jungwon stands at the edge of your desk. you recognize him from your physics class. he was smart, funny, and almost as high strung as you. his dimples pop as he smiles at you, hair swishing to the side as he tilts his head. “a couple of us are going to trivia night friday,” he says it like you're meant to do something with the information, you're nodding slightly.
“okay.”
for a second, his eyes drift to riki and you're following his gaze, missing the way he had been frowning because he's quickly dropping his attention back to his sketchbook. “you should come,” he offers and you already feel the pull to say no, but you're stuck with the disappointment that you know will come with it. it's not like you didn't want to, just that you saved friday's to go to the gym, catch up on homework... and the fact that you hated trivia. but then again, jungwon was kind enough to invite you. and there had to be a reason why he was thinking of you of all people to join his group.
what could be the harm? you haven't gone out in a while. “sure,”
jungwon's smile brightens, “seriously?” you can't help but laugh at his excitement, head bobbing in a nod. “yeah, it could be fun.” he's nodding along with you in agreement, finger typing away at his phone before he's extending it out to you – the screen prompting you to put your number in. “it will be, i'll text you about it.” a few more words are exchanged between the two of you before he's turning to head back toward his seat.
the moment he's out of earshot, riki is letting out a scoff. you turned to find him sitting there with his nose scrunched as if he just smelled something unpleasant. your brow lifts as you stare at him, “what's your problem?” his shoulders lift in a shrug, head dropping back down to shade the edges of his drawing. “thought you didn't like trivia,” he mumbles and you don't miss the pout that forms on his lips. you ignore how cute the expression is, focusing on how he could possibly know you didn't like trivia.
“what are you talking about?”
his eyes lift with a huff, wrist quickly flipping his sketchbook closed so he can lean back in his chair. “you don't like trivia.” the statement falls from his lips with complete certainty. like he's simply informing you of a fact. one plus one is two. the sky is blue. the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. and you did not like trivia. still, you feel the need to defend yourself. “yes, i do.”
riki's eyes roll immediately. “no you don't,” he counters and his confidence annoys you. “since when do you know that i like?” you challenge. the expression on his face suggest you're the one being unreasonable. questioning something that the both of you knew to be true. “you literally told me.” he recalls the conversation perfectly, it hadn't been entirely deep or anything of the sort. but it was a fact. and maybe it was a terrible habit of his, but he could never seem to ignore the facts.
you're blinking up at him. “when did i tell you that?”
that has him letting out an annoyed huff. if you wanted to lie in order to go on a stupid date with jungwon, that was one thing. but acting like he didn't know what was true was a different type of annoying. “our second week as partners. like four months ago. one of the options for the lab of that week was to create a trivia game and you said you hated trivia because it was a lame way for dumb people to feel smart. and then you went on an entire rant about how real knowledge was in essays and research,” the conversation slowly comes back to you as he recounts it.
but he's not done. “and then, you went on about how escape rooms were a scam, that rant lasted for thirteen minutes before we were bringing it back to the assignment. i asked you how many escape rooms you had to fail, before you were deciding they were all scams and you yelled at me for going off topic. you. don't. like. trivia.” he slows down his last sentence, figuring you needed to hear it slowly for it to register in your brain. the silence stretches between the two of you as you stare at him with your mouth agape.
every single one of those things sounds exactly like something you would absolutely say. and the issue wasn't even that he proved you wrong, it was the fact that he had remembered something random you had said to him four months ago. you had forgotten literally five minutes after the words left your mouth, but he held onto them for a four full months. and somehow that was turning all your big no's regarding the hypothesis of your friends into absolute yeses.
you decide to keep your findings to yourself until you have real concrete evidence. right now you were working on hypotheticals, that wasn't enough to determine someone's feelings. especially someone as unreliable as riki nishimura. you're calling him that same night without even thinking twice about it, the chemistry assignment that had been given at the end of class was due in a few hours and you needed to make sure he had done his part. that was your excuse. a perfectly reasonable excuse.
the phone rings twice before his face appears on the screen. and immediately something inside of you feels off. because while you've seen riki every single day for the past four months, seeing him through your phone felt different. he was sitting on the floor beside his bed, one knee drawn up toward his chest while the phone was propped awkwardly against something out of frame. the lighting of his room dim and warm, creating pretty shadows along his jaw and cheekbones. his hair is messier than usual, his white tank top hanging loose around his shoulders.
he's staring back at you, glossy eyes scanning over your features and one thing becomes obvious as you watch him. he's smiling, like actually smiling, nothing like the annoying smirk he always seemed to wear. your eyes are narrowing at the sight of it. “what's wrong with you?” riki blinks, a soft chuckle falling from his lips as his eyes scan your features. “what do you mean?”
you're in your room from what he can tell, laying flat on your stomach with the phone angled just slightly above your head. you look pretty, hair cascading down your shoulders and an accusatory expression directed at him. lips perfectly glossed like they always are and he doesn't try to hide the way his eyes drift down to them. “why are you smiling like that?” your lip curls up and nose scrunches like you're disgusted by the idea of him experiencing any type of happiness.
he's laughing. it's such a pretty rare sound and hearing it reminds you instantly how stingy he was with his laughter. there was no way he'd just be giving laughs away right now, especially when there was absolutely nothing funny. realization dawns on you a minute too late. “oh my god,” you're leaning forward, glaring at him through the screen.
riki is leaning back as if you're able to jump through. “are you high?” the smile on his face widens as he nods his head up and down, but his words betray his movements. “maybe,” you're groaning, positive now that he hadn't even looked at the assignment let alone started it. he was too busy getting doped out on god knows what and you had like three hours before your work was due.
“you're unbelievable, riki.” he's blowing an obnoxious kiss in your direction before another string of laughter is leaving his lips. “thank you,” he doesn't even flinch at the scowl you send his way, proving just how far gone he was. “no. dude we have work due. did you even start it? what is wrong with you?” he's barely listening as you slip into one of your many lectures. “like it's one thing if you want to throw your life away, but don't drag me along with you, riki. why can't you just do you work when it's due? why do i always have to remind you, like-”
he's interrupting you before you can finish your next set of insults. “are we partners or are you the boss of me?” his head tilts to the side like he was genuinely curious about the answer to his question and that confuses you. “...what?” he repeats the words harmlessly, like the issue was you just didn't hear him correctly. you're blinking, brows furrowing slightly. “what are you talking about? we're partners...”
“okay then,” he says with a nod, “then relax. if you did your part, assume i did mine. you're not in charge, yn.” he reaches for something off screen, the neckline of his tank top drooping as he leans forward and you're catching a glimpse of the muscles stretched beneath his tanned skin hidden by the fabric of his shirt. your eyes are snapping back up to his face when he's shifting back into frame. “plus aren't you going on a fuck ass trivia date?” his lips wrap around his straw, cheeks hallowing as he sucks back big gulps from his milk tea.
“that's not until friday. and it's not a date,” he's setting his drink down, leaning against the edge of his bed. “well, don't take that out on me,” he says with a laugh, tongue running over his lower lip as his eyes trace over you. “i don't know what you're talking about. did you do the assignment or not?” you're ignoring the way his eyes on you makes your head spin, the question coming out sharper than you initially intended.
the smile never leaves his face. his head tilted back, toying with something between his fingers as you stare at him, waiting. it takes a few seconds for you to realize that he has no intention of answering you. “riki.” he hums vaguely, barely focused on the issue at hand. he's just staring at you like a weirdo. you're rolling your eyes, head shaking. “oh my god.” you huff. “it's due in three hours, three.” you hold your fingers up for emphasis and riki's head bobs in a nod.
his gaze shifts lower for a second, lingering below your nose and you watch the way his lashes flutter, teeth tugging at his lower lip as his gaze drags back up to your eyes. you don't dare to delve into what he could be thinking. you stay focused to what's safe. “and did you hear that professor will be taking points off if our formatting is wrong? make sure to double check yours. it needs to be done tonight, you're not going to have time if you're focused on cosplaying as a stoner loser,”
riki's shoulders shake with laughter, “how much time do you think you spend worrying about me?” he asks with a grin, eyes traveling down the length of your neck noticing the way your tits press against the fabric of your shirt and you're shifting before he can decipher whether or not you're wearing a bra. “i'm not worried about you, riki. you can flunk out of life for all i care, my grade is attached to yours, that's the issue.” he likes the way your head tilts when you feel like you're telling him off.
“should i kick it into gear then? if i start trying as hard as you do, there's no way you'd be able to keep up.” you know he's talking about grades, but the way his eyes linger on your mouth has you thinking there's something else hidden in his words. you're ignoring that too. “if you just tell me whether or not you're done or almost done, i'll leave you alone,” his lips push out in a pout, heading leaning to the side slightly as he feigns disappointment.
“aw, but you're not killing my high at all,” he fake coos, pout shifting into a grin when he watches the way your face twists. he knew exactly how to push your buttons, he loved how easily he was able to rile you up. it's like everything he did got under your skin in the best way. “ugh, do you see how insufferable you are!?” your reaching up to tug your hair back and his eyes are shooting down quickly, peeking at your chest before rushing back up to your face. no bra, hm. he's saving that away for later.
you're taking his silence as your cue to hurl more insults his way, you're three sentences in when you realize that he's definitely not listening to you. just staring absently at your mouth as you speak. that has your words slowing, confusion making it's way into your tone. “okay. what are you looking at?” you snap, earning a line of snickers from him.
“your lips,” he says it like its the most obvious thing in the world, gesturing vaguely at the screen. “they're nice.” he decides to keep it tame, because what was actually at the tip of his tongue would've earned him a swift end to the call and a restraining order the next day, he was sure of it. “that's such a weird thing to say,” you're scoffing but he doesn't miss the soft pink that lifts on your cheeks.
he's nodding easily, “i'm aware.”
“then why would you even say that?” his gaze hasn't lifted from your lips once actually, it seemed like he was looking at them more intently since he had admitted that he was. “because i was thinking it,” he shrugs, tongue tracing over his own lips as he stares at yours. and you feel the heat of his stare even through the screen, it's enough to have you shifting on your bed, trying to soothe some of the tension rising in your stomach.
“you're high,” you point out, more so for yourself than to him. he's laughing, nodding quickly. “you're so smart,” he smiles and you're continuing on without missing a bit. “a normal person would've just kept that thought to themselves,” dark eyes roll down at you, his shoulders lifting in a shrug and plump lips puckering out, “oops.” despite yourself, you're letting out a laugh. it's how cute he looks with that expression on his face, like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
and his laughter follows yours, warm and clearly amused. undeniably pleased with himself because for the first time in how ever long he's known you, this was the first time that you looked relax talking to him. although, it only lasted a few seconds – he'd take it. your eyes lift to find his after the laughter had died down and he doesn't look the least bit embarrassed.
he just settles deeper against the side of his bed, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he watches you. “your turn, compliment me.” he says after a minute. the words catch you off guard, forcing your brows to shoot up. he sounds so casual as he speaks too, as if he was asking you something simple like 'pass the salt'. like he hadn't just spent the last ten minutes openly checking you out and now was asking you to do the same.
but no matter how cute he looked in that one moment, you weren't one to fall for his gimmicks. there was a reason why you were suffering through this phone call in the first place. “did you finish the assignment or not?” his smile doesn't falter, not for a second. one shoulder lifts, then drops. “maybe, maybe not.” you're letting out a huff, that he quickly joins already predicting the sounds you make when you're annoyed with him. “riki.” you warn.
“i'll tell you once i get my compliment,” on screen, he's reaching forward again, leaning over lifting slightly to reach the top of the desk beside him. you watch as he gathers supplies slowly, tucking each item in his palm before searching through loose sheets of paper for the next. rolling paper. grinder. lighter. lastly he's grabbing a tray littered with clumps of weed.
riki plops back down onto his butt, being met with your glare. “do you really think you should be getting more high right now?” there's obvious judgment in your tone that he chooses to ignore. his gaze flicks upward, long fingers plucking up a few pieces of flower before dropping them into the grinder. “i'll definitely take your opinion into consideration,” he grins, twisting his wrists to work the metal between his hands.
you're groaning, flopping backward against the pillow. “we're so going to fail,” you sigh, hands reaching up to swipe across your face. on the screen, riki looks entirely too comfortable with your distress. you hadn't missed the way his tank top stretches across his chest, his collarbones on full display covered by the silver chains he never seemed to take off. the worst part is how focused he looks rolling another blunt for himself.
you've seen the same look of concentration on his face countless times before, usually saved for when he was drawing. hands steady as always, moving with the same confidence that they always do. his tongue briefly presses against the inside of his cheek as he works and you hate the way your eyes follow the movement of it, watching closely as the tip of his tongue traces his lips.
“come on,” he says, voice forcing your attention upward. “one compliment,” he's not looking at you, one hundred percent focused on sprinkling the freshly ground weed onto the rolling paper. “am i so bad that you can't even think of one?” your lips twist to the side as you look him over, it wasn't like you couldn't come up with a compliment for him. you weren't blind, everyone on campus knew how attractive riki was. it was his attitude that kept all the girls away, not his face, he was hot. objectively of course. but you'd never say that out loud.
instead, you watch him carefully. the paper rests against his knee while his hands move with practiced ease. his fingers work automatically, rolling and adjusting without needing to look down for more than a second at a time. you find yourself watching him longer than necessary, then for a few more seconds after that just in case. his rings catch the warm glow of his lamp off in the distance each time his wrist twists. his thumb smoothing across the paper before he's bringing it toward his lips.
the tip of his tongue brushes across the edge of the paper and you don't miss the way his eyes flicker up to you as it does, forcing a gasp from your lips. his brow furrows, fake confusion riddling his features as he watches you act like you hadn't been staring. “you really have nothing for me? don't you want to know if we're going to pass or fail?” he doesn't even care that it feels like he's begging for a compliment, because he was curious. you were so loose with the insults you had for him, but he knew there had to be something else to go along with all of that.
“you're literally holding my chemistry grade hostage,” you point out and he nods happily, thumb flicking against his lighter before running the fire across the body of his blunt. he's lighting the end without wasting another second, bringing one end to his lips as he does. “so what's it going to be, princess? are we releasing the hostages or is this a suicide mission?” his brow lifts, inhaling deeply with his blunt pressed to his lips.
you're rolling your eyes. “you're so lame,” you say through an amused sigh. you sit there for a short while, watching him inhale and exhale, his lips puckering as he blows smoke from them. he reaches off screen to shake the ash off every few puffs before sinking back against his bed. riki doesn't take his eyes off of you the entire time, watching you through his long lashes patiently. “ugh, fine.” you're finally saying, earning a satisfied grin from him.
“remember last year? when your hair was black, that looked good,” he can't help the laugh that escape his lips, leave it to you to insult and compliment him all at the same time. “that's not a compliment.” he points out, because you know it's not. but because you're so stubbornly you, you're standing ten toes behind your lame attempt to get your way. “it is,” your arms cross over your chest, jaw set like you were begging for him to challenge you.
and he was never one to back down from a challenge. “no. that's you complimenting a version of me that literally doesn't exist anymore,” your shoulders lift in a quick shrug. “still counts.” he's snorting, deciding that he was finished with his blunt, he presses the end into the tray by his thigh. “you're basically saying i looked better a year ago... and why do you even know what i looked like a year ago? we just met,” it's not like it was impossible for you to have seen him before, but you didn't strike him as the type to notice anyone who didn't fall in your immediate circle.
so spotting him, seeing his hair, deciding you liked it and committing to memory seemed very out of character for you. your mouth opens to defend yourself, but you're quickly realizing that you had nothing to say to justify how or why you'd remember what he looked like last year. nothing that wouldn't give away the fact that you thought he was cute the first time you saw him, developed a tiny crush that was quickly snuffed out when you found out how much of a slacker he was.
“should i pretend this doesn't mean you've been keeping tabs on me?” he teases after you've been quiet for too long and you're groaning, eyes rolling as you pull the phone away from your face. you can hear his laughter through the speaker, body feeling warm enough that he's hunching over to the side as his laughs shake his body. you find him laying on his side when you lift the phone back up, a silly smile on his lips. he's instantly spotting the embarrassed flush of your cheeks.
“relax, princess. i spotted you the first day of freshmen year,” he confesses, but doesn't give you a moment to react before he's changing the subject. “and i finished my part like an hour after it was assigned. i'll email you,” he's deciding that's the end of the conversation, finger pressing against the red button on the screen before you're able to get a goodbye in.
thursday afternoon you're finding riki sat with his friends in the center of the student union. it's loud enough to make concentrating impossible, chatter from the groups scattered around the building creating a unbalanced hum, someone plays music from a speaker, a group of freshmen argue over a card game by the window. the smell of coffee and french fries sits permanently in the air.
riki leans back comfortably in his chair, scrolling aimlessly through his phone while jake and sunghoon bicker about something or another. the thick review packet you had handed him this morning sits untouched in front of him and it was most likely going to stay that way until he decided that he was running out of time to finish it. jake spots you first, charging into the building with an all too serious expression on your face. his conversation with sunghoon dies as his eyes widen, “oh no.” sunghoon is following his gaze, a grin pulling across his lips. “oh here comes your wife,” he says, jutting his chin out to point in your direction.
it takes a moment before riki is realizing that they're talking to him, he's glancing over his shoulder quickly his eyes instantly finding you. purpose behind each kick of your long legs, your ponytail swings behind you with each step. your eyes are already zeroed on him as you walk, the pleats of your skirt shift around your thighs as you squeeze through tables making a beeline in his direction. a binder tucked beneath one arm, iced coffee gripped in your hand. he doesn't even need to guess why you're heading over to him and he's already bored.
“hi, yn.” he groans as you're setting the binder onto the table, pulling out the empty chair beside him and lowering yourself into it. you ignore his greeting, immediately pointing at the untouched review packet. “we need to study. i don't care if you think you can wing it,” jake averts his gaze as soon as he hears the sternness in your voice and sunghoon is deciding that his drink is the most fascinating thing in the world. riki stares blankly at you before his eyes are drifting to his friends for some sort of backup, only to realize they're both cowards.
“you guys are pathetic,” he grumbles. “we haven't even said anything!” jake defends and riki is scoffing, “that's the point.” they've heard riki complain about you enough to know to stay out of it. he described you as his personal academic probation officer and the fact that you were a certified ten did very little to take away from how annoying you got when it came to school work. it was funny enough when riki was just complaining about you, but actually witnessing it in person was far more entertaining. they were just smart enough not to get in the way of your line of fire.
you ignore them entirely. “when were you planning on studying?” he shrugs. “tomorrow,” he says it like it was a suggestion, because in all reality he hadn't put much thought into it. he figured he'd flip through the text book a few minutes before the test started and call it a day. that's what he did most of the time, but the fact that this test was a joint one – you weren't going to let his lazy efforts slide.
“the test is tomorrow, riki.” you point out and he nods, lips lifting to show off that stupid grin. “exactly.” he smiles and you're shaking your head, reaching over him to flip open the packet that you had given him. you could tell that he hadn't even bothered to open it since this morning. “this is a big test, riki. we need to get a good score,” that's what you always said, everything was a big deal. and that just didn't make sense, because if everything was a big deal – then nothing was.
his eyes drift over your features slowly, sliding down the length of your neck to dance over the lace collar of your shirt. a tiny cute bow rests between your breasts against the fabric and he imagines for a second his teeth tugging at it. “have you eaten anything yet?” his hand expertly shoves the packet aside as he turns fully in his chair to look down at you. your brows raise, “what are you talking about?”
“it's lunch time.” his eyes flicker toward your untouched coffee, then back up to your face. “did you eat?” for a moment you're genuinely confused, his sudden concern for whether or not you've eaten seemed unrelated to the very important matter at hand. “we need to study. i have no idea where you're at with any of this stuff. i'll worry about my stomach later,” across the table, sunghoon slowly lowers his drink. jake's face is scrunching up in pure confusion, because this interaction looks insane.
riki is pushing the packet away fully now, the thick pages knocking against sunghoon's fist. he quickly gets the hint, pulling the stack of papers from the table and setting it in his lap. riki catches the movement from the corner of his eye, a smirk spreading across his lips. “let's go eat,” you can’t focus on the way they’re so obviously hiding the packet from you, not when riki is standing from his seat, holding a large hand down to you.
“you want to get lunch?” he's nodding quickly, wiggling his fingers out to you. and you're reluctantly taking his hand, allowing him to pull you up from the seat. he ushers you in front of him, review packet completely forgotten as he leads you down the hall. “we're studying after,” you warn, a finger pointed in his direction. riki nods simply, hand ghosting over the small of your back as the two of you walk toward the dining hall.
emmy notices you first. one second she's following the others through the dining hall, her plate balanced on one hand while she texts expertly with the other, half listening to clover as she complains about her professor who she was positive was racist and sexist and that's why her grade was suffering. the next, her attention is catching on a familiar ponytail swishing through the crowd.
she almost lifts a hand to wave you over, before she's noticing who's trailing closely behind you. riki. of course. viki is egging clover on while isis and jay look for a good spot to sit, none of them paying attention to the breaking news that just entered the dining hall. “guys,” emmy calls, the hurried tone of her voice making them stop in their tracks. she's gesturing widely over at you, you're mid rant it seems and riki half listens with his hand on your waist – guiding you toward the array of food.
he nods along to what you're saying as if he's actually listening and that's shocking enough for your friends. most people gave up trying to follow your stream of consciousness after about thirty seconds, riki has apparently survived the entire walk across the union and from the looks of it, you weren't even close to wearing him down. they watch as he walks you to the serving line, reaching for the stack of empty plates to hand one over to you. and before you can finish whatever point you're making, riki is picking one of the better looking sandwiches from the selection, setting it down on your plate.
the gesture has your friends gaping. “is he serving her?” viki asks, head tilting to the side as he scoops some salad onto your plate. across the room, you hold your plate out for him, words still flowing from your lips without missing a beat and riki is positive you no longer care if he's listening, you enjoy the sound of your own voice way too much to notice either way.
the two of you are making your way to one of the empty tables hidden in the corner of the room without a second thought, you don't even realize your friends are also in the room as you settle onto the bench. the moment you're settling, you're rummaging through your bag to pull out your notes – spreading them over the table. isis is letting out an amused snort. “of course she would,” she comments, pushing a few fries past her lips.
you flip through highlighted pages, immediately launching into what can only be described as an impromptu study session. you didn't miss the way riki ditched his review packet back with his friends, but that wasn't going to stop you from reviewing. how foolish of him to think you wouldn't have copies of everything you needed to know for the test tomorrow. riki squirts a healthy amount of ketchup on his plate, mindlessly twirling a chicken strip in it before he's tearing a bite off.
he's barely listening as you drone on, his fingers lifting your wrapped straw from the table. riki's carefully tearing the plastic off before dropping it into your lemonade, gently pushing the glass toward you. and your friends eat up the silent gesture, nearly losing their minds when you're reaching for the cup almost immediately, taking a sip out of it like it's the most natural thing in the world. you're right back to reading before you've even set the glass back down and riki is shaking his head.
he says something to you that forces you to glare over at him and his shoulders are lifting in a careless shrug, eyes dropping to his plate as he shoves more food into his mouth. you try to continue reading but he shakes his head, body turning from you with each sentence you try to read. eventually, you're giving up, reaching down to unwrap your sandwich before taking a bite out of it. that has a smile spreading across his features, but he's frowning again when you're turning back to your notes.
the two of you continue like that through the entire hour. riki urging you to eat and ditch the notes while you tried to sneak little facts into your conversation. entirely in your own little bubble, you had no idea how domestic the two of you looked to any outsiders. your friends sat confused at the other side of the room, mini debates erupting on whether or not the two of you were together for real now, because from where they were sitting, you looked exactly like a couple that had no idea they were acting like one yet.
the sky opened up thirty minutes before the start of your first class. the insistent patter of rain hitting against the windows, roaring through every classroom on campus. the weather had apparently changed it's mind since you had checked the app this morning, it wasn't supposed to rain until after six. which is exactly why you dressed the way you had this morning. one of your favorite mini skirts and a leather tube top, you couldn't be more poorly dressed for the weather.
by the time you're stepping out of the library, the sky has turned an ugly gray. water slams against the pavement hard enough to blur the opposite side of campus. even still, you can make out the way students dart between buildings, backpacks lifted over their heads while they sprint through the puddles. you’re stuck in the doorway, staring into the storm knowing at some point you were going to have to suck it up. your class was on the other side of the campus, fifteen minutes away.
the wind blows wet droplets in your directions and you flinch as the cold water hits your skin. yeah, there was no way you'd be able to do this. “run. you can do it,” you hear from behind you, sarcastically encouraging and you're recognizing the voice before you're even turning around. riki. of course it was. this man was literally everywhere and you genuinely couldn't understand why.
he's stepping to stand beside you, eyes shamelessly dragging over your body. your tiny skirt hung low on your hips, revealing the chains and beads around your waist that he was quickly realizing were permanent. a strapless top that left your shoulders bare and he found it interesting how you were able to make shoulders distracting. gold jewelry hanging from your neck, wrists, fingers and even a cuff around your thigh. you definitely didn't bother to check the weather before leaving your room.
“maybe you can't do it,” he's taking back his statement, eyes drifting to how hard the rain was falling and how little clothes you were wearing. his doubt had a competitive fire lighting in your chest. “i can make it,” he's laughing at the obnoxiously determined look painting your features. “you'd make it about ten feet before eating shit,” he predicts, eyes dropping down to the heels that you're wearing. the sound of rain pounding harder against the pavement proves his point.
you stand there eyeing the storm while riki stands there watching you. students continue to rush past, grumbling about you both being in the way, but neither of you bother to move. it's like you're stuck in place, because the image of you attempting to run across campus ends one of three ways. a twisted ankle, a destroyed outfit or and this one came with either option – public humiliation. no thank you.
riki is letting out a sigh like he's accepted some terrible burden, he shifts and for a second you assume he's finally leaving you to figure this out without his scrutinizing stare. but he doesn't go far, just close enough to the building to toss his backpack inside, hands reaching up to tug at the zipper of his hoodie. you watch as he shrugs the garment off, revealing a black tank top that hangs loosely from his shoulders. the muscles of his arms flex as he balls up the sweater in his hands, dropping it onto your head.
“ow.” the fabric muffles your voice and riki is rolling his eyes. “it's cotton,” you reach up to yank it off of your head, “yeah, but it still hit me.” you're ready to shoot a glare up at him but he's already started walking away. stepping into the rain without a glance backward. and you have to blink a few times to ensure you were seeing him correctly. within seconds his dark shirt clings to his back, heavy droplets weighing down his once styled hair. he's soaked before he's even a foot away, but he doesn't react. his hands are shoved deep in his pockets as each step grows the distance between you.
oh this was definitely, without a doubt a yes. your eyes drop to the black hoodie in your hands, the entire exchange had to have lasted less than three seconds. he saw that you were in need of something and without asking he was providing it to you. despite the fact that it was a huge disadvantage to him. your friends weren't crazy, you were. and riki too. he better not get sick over this.
by the time you pull the sweater onto your body, he's halfway across the quad. sunghoon is catching up to him with an umbrella and you feel less bad about the warmth of his hoodie. the sleeves extend beyond your fingertips and you have to push them out of the way in order to tug the zipper up. the hem swallows your skirt entirely. you're flipping the hood up before taking a careful step forward, completely enveloped in the scent of him.
it's a mixture of his expensive smelling cologne, laundry detergent and weed. you've spent enough afternoons sat beside him to recognize he always smelled good. but being wrapped in it was entirely different. it was almost intoxicating and you can't help the way your eyes flutter as his scent brings along images of him standing this close, surrounding you instead of his hoodie.
later that day, riki spots you quicker than he's willing to admit. the halls are crowded between classes, students weaving in every direction, headphones covering their ears and coffee cups clutched in their hands. you're across the way, but it's like riki can hear your voice perfectly in his ear the second his eyes are finding you. his hoodie still swallows your frame, you've even rolled up the sleeves to make it more comfortable, as if you planned on keeping it on permanently. it falls almost to the middle of your thighs, turning what should be an over sized sweater to something that looks more like a dress. and he can't get over how good his hoodie looked on your body.
the fact that you could've taken it off hours ago lingers in his mind. the rain had stopped just before noon, the sun was out and you hadn't been outside since this morning. even still, you're walking the halls in something that smells like him. and the realization makes his stomach tighten unexpectedly. riki doesn't realize how hard he's staring until jake's words are coming to a halt, his eyes following his gaze.
a grin slowly spreading across his features. “oh,” riki already knows that tone and he's rolling his eyes before anything else could be said. his eyes drift over to jake who's staring at him with a knowing smirk on his lips, dramatically squinting toward the opposite side of the hall where you and clover are disappearing from view, still deep in conversation.
“isn't that your hoodie?” sunghoon finally looks up from his phone, catching a glimpse of you just before you're disappearing. he recognizes the sweater immediately, he's asked to borrow it about a million times and was met with the same answer every single time. his eyes narrow almost immediately, gaze shifting back to riki. “what the hell?” he doesn't even bother to hide how offended he is. “why is yn wearing your three-thousand-dollar hoodie?” it's the exact wording riki's used each and every time he's told sunghoon he couldn't borrow it.
“three thousand two hundred,” the correction leaves his mouth automatically and jake is closing his eyes, hand reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “we have to eat the rich,” he says it like there's no other choice and riki is snorting beside him. “you say that every other day,” his hand reaches up to push at his hair, it had dried since this morning laying a little too messily at the top of his head so he couldn't stop messing with it.
“because every other day you say something insane,” jake is glancing back in the direction that you had just disappeared in and sunghoon is quick to bring them back on track. “anyway. why?” he says with his arms crossed over his chest.
riki is letting out a soft laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “it was raining. and she was wearing the tiniest skirt... so i let her borrow it,” it made sense at the time and honestly, it still made sense now. you made it to class without having to run and although he did get soaked, he had dried off by now.
no harm, no foul.
the explanation isn't enough to satisfy either of his friends, though. “borrow until when?” sunghoon presses, ready to claim his spot in line after you, if hoodies were just being handed out willy nilly. riki's answer should be immediate, a time frame of when he was going to get his clothes back, but in reality he hadn't given you one and he didn't really care to.
he's shrugging slightly, “i don't know.” the image flashes through his head again before he can manage to stop it. the too long sleeves rolled over your wrists, soft hem brushing your thighs and the way you were laughing with clover seeming undeniably comfortable in what you were wearing. and he beamed at the fact that it belonged to him. and he just loved knowing you were breathing him in each time you took a breath. the thought has a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “yeah, i don't know... she looks good in it,”
that has sunghoon erupting, his arms thrown up as he lets out a frustrated groan. “you have got to be kidding me,” he's quickly diving into a rant about fairness and friendship and how sharing was caring, arms flying around as he dated their entire friendship and all of the sacrifices he's made in the past and how this moment was actively shaping their future. riki is only half listening, he's too busy imagining what you'd look like wrapped in his hoodie but on top of him. how easy it would be to push it up to fuck into you. he could picture the way he'd go crazy nuzzling his face in your neck and smelling himself against your skin.
jake can tell how far gone his friend is just by looking, eyes barely focused as sunghoon rants and he knows that he’s somewhere else. it's concerning because in the years he's known riki, he's never seen him this interested in a girl. it's been months of this silent pining after you when the riki he knew would've gotten it done in a day or two. and the slow burn of it all had jake believing that there was something entirely else there.
“i need to smoke,” jake's interrupting act two of sunghoon's speech, reaching behind his ear to pull a pre-roll free. that catches both boys attention better than he had expected. “let's go out to my car, i have like three i haven't finished.” riki says and the three of them make their way toward the double doors. the sidewalks still glisten beneath the sun, water dripping from the tree branches overhead. jake holds his blunt between his lips, lighting it carefully before inhaling sharply. he lets the smoke hit his lungs, circulating before he's exhaling through his nose. he repeats the action two more times before he's holding his hand out to riki.
who takes it without hesitation and as he's bringing the unlit end to his lips, jake is asking the question they've all been too afraid to say out loud. “do you have feelings for yn?” the words hit riki deep in his chest, but he doesn't let himself think too deeply on it. instead, he's letting a laugh fall from his lips. a real genuine laugh that only dies when he's fitting the blunt between his lips again, taking a long drag from it. jake and sunghoon exchange a look across him, neither of them cracking the slightest of smiles. because that was answer enough and his silence after just solidified it.
riki doesn't say anything else the entire walk to his car, handing the blunt over to sunghoon and tucking his hand deep into his pocket, jake's words still linger in his mind and the fact that he truly had no other answer besides the one that he gave. and he's not even sure what's funny anymore.
riki has made a skill out of drawing you from memory. his pencil moves the moment he's sat in his room, comfortably slumped at his desk. the familiar lines of your face appearing before he even had the chance to do anything about it. every time he closed his eyes, he can still see exactly how you looked this afternoon, his hoodie covering your body. and he can't keep himself from detailing the exact image, the way the over sized shoulders hung lower than they should've, the sleeves that you had to keep rolling up. how he was fully imagining that you had nothing else underneath and all he had to do was tug a zipper to reveal your body to his greedy eyes.
you're laying back on his bed in the drawing, lip tucked between your teeth, brows knitted as obvious focus takes over your features. your hair is down in the drawing, tangled and messy in a way that it never is but he craved to see. legs spread as you lean back, the tips of your fingers peeking from the too long sleeves to reach between them. his breath hitches as his pencil moves lower, one of your hands holding the hoodie out of the way so he can watch your fingers move between your legs.
he feels the way his jeans tighten as his pencil creates the lines of your pussy, cute and dripping as always. you're making a mess on the sheets below you, arousal dripping from the tip of your fingers and he wanted so desperately to be able to suck it off. his hand reaches below his desk as his phone buzzes, the vibration rattling across the wood. his eyes shift toward it, widening when he sees your name flash on his screen.
yn. (lab freak) | 00:42 ill bring ur hoodie back tmrw
a smile immediately tugs at the corner of his lips. of course you'd be up worrying about returning his things when you should definitely be asleep. he could guess that you just finished studying too. he's typing the next two words before he can talk himself out of it, eyes flickering up to the half finished drawing of you on his desk.
riki nishimura | 00:44 keep it. yn. (lab freak) | 00:44 are you insane? this is a three thousand dollar hoodie.
riki laughs quietly to himself. he found it funny how the first thing you'd think of is looking up how much it cost and needing to return it back as quickly as possible now that you knew. he can practically picture you sitting there with your brows pulled together, offended on principle by the existence of a three-thousand-dollar hoodie even existing. he's nudging his drawing to the side slightly, lifting his phone with both hands before leaning back against his chair.
riki nishimura | 00:46 yeah it's chrome hearts :) yn. (lab freak) | 00:49 exactly how rich are u? riki nishimura | 00:51 🤷 yn. (lab freak) | 00:51 unbelievable.
he can hear the way you roll your eyes through the screen and that has him grinning, pleased that he's able to annoy you even through text. he's setting his phone down, deciding that was the end of the conversation as he lifts his pencil from his desk. he's back to outlining the folds of your pussy, the way your fingers hold your lips out of his way. shading carefully to make it obvious how soft he knew you'd be. his phone is buzzing again before he can move onto your thighs.
yn. (lab freak) | 00:59 ill wash it then bring it to u should i have it dry cleaned?
riki stares at the message for a second before laughing. you really do take everything so seriously. the hoodie had been hanging in his closet next to several others almost exactly like it three days ago. he had dropped it on your head without even thinking twice about it and if you had dropped it in a puddle he probably wouldn't have noticed until next week.
meanwhile here you were researching the specific care instructions for the garment.
riki nishimura | 01:02 why would u dry clean it yn. (lab freak) | 01:02 bc its THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS!? riki nishimura | 01:05 relax i got it so long ago its prob not even worth that much anymore yn. (lab freak) | 01:06 easy for u to say not all of us can spend rent money on sweaters like its nothing riki nishimura | 01:07 its a nice sweater??? yn. (lab freak) | 01:08 i genuinely hate talking to u
the grin stays on his face as his eyes drift toward his drawing of you staring back at him on his table. he's not sure when it happened, but conversations with you somehow have become more entertaining than drawing. which is saying something.
riki nishimura | 01:10 just keep it yn. (lab freak) | 01:11 no i can't. riki nishimura | 01:11 yes u can yn. (lab freak) | 01:13 why?
his mind drifts briefly to the memory that had him sat at his drawing desk in the first place. the reason why he wanted you to keep a hoodie that he wouldn't even let his friends breathe too hard near. it's the image of you walking the hallway, sleeves rolled up and the over sized fit. completely unaware how you looked to him, how it felt to have some sort of claim over you when all he could manage were these midnight drawings.
he liked seeing you wrapped up in something of his. it made the hundreds of drawings of you feel less pathetic, because at least when you were wearing his hoodie it was something real. tangible. there was no denying who it belonged to and he could easily convince himself that you liked the feeling of being wrapped up in him just as much as he liked seeing it. his thumbs hover over the keyboard, teeth tugging over his lower lip as he carefully types out each letter. he's locking his phone as soon as he's pressed send, walking away from it as if it'd detonate at any given moment.
the text comes through your phone immediately and you can't help the tug you feel in your chest. your eyes drift to the mirror perched at the side of the room, taking in the way his hoodie looks on your body, trying to see what you looked like in it to him. what could possibly be making him this persistent and the longer you looked, the scent of him tickling your nose with each turn of your head – his reasoning became extremely apparent. and it was much deeper than the words on your screen.
riki nishimura | 01:15 it looks good on u
the next few days felt different between the two of you. nothing had inherently changed, though. you still sat beside each other in class, still argued about assignments. still exchanged the same sarcastic remarks that had become second nature after months of being lab partners. if anything, the dynamic looked exactly the same from the outside. the problem was you and the fact that you couldn't stop noticing things now. rating everything on a yes/no scale, reading too deep into every one of your interactions, every text, every glance. it was slowly driving you insane.
because whatever research you had been doing on your relationship had shifted from just that, to you just watching him. noticing him. you first realize the shift during one of your study sessions in the library. you're halfway through reviewing practice questions, reading the questions out loud and assuming that the boy beside you was following along. when your gaze shifts to where he sits, you find riki with his sketchbook open over his textbook, pencil moving lazily across the page while he absentmindedly nodded his head to your words.
he looked like he was paying attention, taking notes even, but from a closer view you could see that was so far from the case. he was drawing, of course, and you don't miss the fact he always seemed so calm whenever he drew. you're able to peek over just enough before he's instinctively cupping his right arm around his book – the left not missing a beat. what you did see was pretty, a hand almost identical to his own holding up a shard of glass looking at the reflection. he was actively shading the eye in, but you could tell that it was meant to be him.
you spend longer than you're willing to admit watching his hands, the ease of every stroke, his confidence in every line making each one feel intentional. he switched his rings today, still silver but bulkier. a large cross rests on his middle finger, another one that looks like teeth on his thumb. there's simple bands stacked randomly on either hand and they glint with each twist of his wrists. it takes a moment for you to snap out of it, to realize that there was work that needed to be done and he was neglecting it right now.
“riki. are you even paying attention?” he nods without even looking at you, assuming that you're deep into the reading like you had been just a moment ago. he looks up when you're not saying anything else, brow raising at the annoyed expression on your features. he hadn't even truly done anything this time, but still his face is shifting into a pretty grin. “what chapter are we on?” he's asking with a tilt of his head, letting a soft laugh fall from his lips.
“you're such an idiot,” his laugh echos through the library and you hate how the sound effects you, ever since the facetime call where he was high, he's been laughing more freely around you. so much that you're able to decipher his different types of laughs and whether or not they were genuine.
the library sessions only became worse after that. most days studying no longer feeling as productive as it should. you spent more time rereading the same sentences or trying not to look at him than you did actually absorbing the information. even still, you met up. notes still spread across the tables, creating review packets only to half do them. you still met up consistently, still convinced yourself that the purpose of it was entirely academic. yet every other meeting seemed to end with less and less space between the two of you than when it first started.
there was one afternoon in particular that stuck in your mind for longer than you had intended. you had been reading through the review packet, testing him while he only half listened, his attention deep in his phone but he insisted that he was paying attention. one moment you were deep into your work and before you knew it your bare thigh rested lightly against his beneath the table. which shouldn't be that big of a deal, the two of you sat close together before – but this closeness had your heart hammering.
and every time he lifted his arm, his knuckles brushed your skin. every time he shifted closer to look at something on your screen, you felt his breath brushing against your shoulder and it made you painfully aware of how little distance separated you. and how being this close to him felt so natural that whenever he was deciding to give you some space, you were quick to close the gap once again.
riki never seemed to stop looking at you, either. his eyes shifting to your lips whenever you spoke to him and you don't miss the way they would linger. which wasn't out of the ordinary, but he was done pretending that he wasn't staring. tongue tracing his lower lip as he watches the way yours move. his fingers always seemed to ghost over your skin, whether it was your thighs, your shoulders, or your waist – it was like he was constantly fighting the urge to touch you.
he was testing your boundaries, seeing how much he could push before you were scoffing and pushing him off. but much to his surprise, you hardly ever were. no matter how much space he closed between you two, how close his fingers got to your skin, you were never backing down. in fact, it seemed like you were waiting expectantly for him to do something.
like actually. but the issue was he wasn't sure, so much of your relationship existed inside of his head he couldn't trust the way you sat too close or the subtle tone hidden within your words. he needed concrete proof before he was crossing any lines and he felt his chances were extremely low.
by the end of the week, even ordinary conversations felt different. one morning you spotted him across campus while you were walking toward the dining hall with jungwon. the two of you had been hanging out a lot more since you dominated trivia night, he was actually a lot of fun to be around. the both of you saw life the same and it was nice to talk to someone that you knew was on the same wave length as you. your books are tucked against jungwon's chest, his bag hanging off of his shoulder as you babble on about the physics lecture you just left. and then, without thinking you're lifting your hand to wave riki over.
he had been walking the other way, a hand shoved in his pocket while the other scrolled through the phone. but when his eyes are landing on you, he's changing direction instantly. he falls into step with you naturally as if he'd always been part of the conversation, hip bumping against yours at the three of you walk and you fill him in easily. at first it all seemed so normal and regular, until jungwon started explaining the upcoming project, soft launching his want to work together.
jungwon is in the middle of explaining his idea for it but you're only able to listen with half of your attention, way more focused on the way riki interjects, mostly to correct the older boy an arrogant smirk on his lips. it was like the poor guy couldn't get a sentence out without riki feeling the sudden urge to prove him wrong. to prove that he was the smartest one between you three. eventually jungwon is letting out a laugh, “dude what is your problem?” you notice the frown that immediately takes over riki's features.
“i don't have a problem,” he says but it's so obvious that he does.
jungwon isn't afraid to point it out either, “you've been arguing with everything i've said for the past ten minutes,” the accusation seemed to catch riki genuinely off guard, so annoyed by the idea of you pairing up with someone else he hadn't even realize that he was actually reacting to it. and for the first time since he walked up to you, he's falling silent with a lame shrug of his shoulders.
a few minutes later jungwon is handing you your books and waving goodbye, spotting some friends once you reach the dining hall and wanting to meet up with them instead. you wave reluctantly, watching as he turns to walk away and almost instantly riki is relaxing beside you. the tension vanished from his shoulders, his mood lifting and he was sparking conversation up with you as if he wasn't just being a dick.
at the time you didn't think too much of it. summed up his behavior with his ridiculous need to feel like he was smarter than everyone without having to try. but later that night when your mind was replaying the memory again and again, details stood out to you that hadn't before. the glare he'd send jungwon's way as he spoke, but the way his gaze would soften when he looked at you. how he seemed almost annoyed at the idea of you working together with someone that wasn't him and he looked almost ready to reject the offer before jungwon even had the chance to extend it.
he was acting extremely out of character for someone who claimed not to care about anything. even though you had waved him over, invited him into the conversation – riki still seemed strangely invested in who you spent your mornings talking to and about what. and sadly that wasn't the sort of observation you could easily forget.
unpopular opinion, you hated the weekend. they dragged for you, not really interested in partying or forced socialization. if you were doing anything it was most likely a sleepover at one of the girls' dorms where you'd binge episodes of vampire diaries. if not, you'd be holed up in your room, perfecting your essays and notes and waiting for monday to roll around again.
this weekend was different, though. clover was dragging you out of your room with the notion that you needed to photosynthesize. leaving your room had been a last minute decision, so you hadn't put much thought into what you were wearing. a short white skirt that stopped a few inches below you behind, a white tube top and riki's over sized hoodie.
choosing it had nothing to do with the fact that it still smelt like him or that it felt close enough to actually having his arms around you. those weren't deciding factors at all, it simply was the first one you could grab when you were rushing out. clover raises her brows when she sees you but doesn't say anything, it had already taken enough effort to get you outside on the weekend – she wasn't going to push her luck. the two of you make your way toward the student union for frozen yogurt, chatting happily as you bounce down the walkway arms linked together.
you're spotting him before he notices you. riki is sitting beneath a tree near the center of the courtyard, one knee drawn toward his chest, laptop resting against his lap as he types quickly – not sparing a second to look down as his fingers fly across the keyboard. students drift around him in scattered groups, but he's entirely unaware of anybody else's existence, completely locked in on whatever assignment he was trying to finish before the due date.
you break away from clover before you can even register why your body is moving, the sleeves of his hoodie falling over your hands as you cross the grass toward him. you had intended on just going over to say hi, see what he's working on before turning around to rejoin your friend. but his sketchbook catches your attention, immediately changing your plans. specifically, the fact that it's sitting unattended by his knee while he's distracted by homework.
terrible idea on his part actually. you don't even hesitate, stride picking up as you rush toward him and by the time he looks up, you've already snatched the book from the ground. wide eyes snap up at you, his laptop being ditched somewhere in the grass as he moves to stand, “yn.” he says carefully, holding his hand out like he's trying to tame you.
a sly grin spreads across your features before you're turning and running from him. the sound that leaves his lips is somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “are you fucking...” he's quick to begin chasing behind you and you're shocked to see how fast he is when you're glancing over your shoulder. “catch me!” you call, urging yourself to run faster ahead of him.
your mistake becomes apparent almost immediately. because riki was incredibly fast. much faster than you'd assume a person that couldn't give two shits about his lungs would be. you barely make it halfway across the courtyard before you hear footsteps thundering behind you. students turn their heads as you weave through them, careful not to ram into anyone. jake laughs from somewhere in the distance. you nearly knock over a freshman and just as you're turning into the garden, a hand catches your wrist.
his movements are swift, tugging your body toward him before easily backing you against the nearest tree. for a second neither of you moves, your hand clutched beneath his big palm and pinned above your head. the sketchbook is trapped awkwardly between your chest and his and you feel the way his hips shift to trap you in place. his eyes are narrowed, a mean expression on his face as he fights to catch his breath.
you can only imagine how you look to him, flushed cheeks and messy hair caught all in your lip gloss. your breath hitches as he shifts closer to you, half-hard cock grazing your thighs and your eyes go wide. riki's movements are slow, keeping a firm grip above your head as his free hand moves to cup the side of your face. he's gentle despite how irritated he looks, thumb reaching up to swipe the hair from your lips. “you done?” he asks, brows knitted in completely concentration as he watches the way your mouth moves under his thumb. unfortunately, irritation looked very good on him.
like embarrassingly good.
his thumb stays on your lip despite the fact he's already pushed all of your hair back in place, threatening to dip into your mouth. it's only then that you realize he had asked you a question. your eyes lift to look up at him, peeking at him through your lashes as your head bobs in a nod. “fine, you caught me.” your words come out muffled against his finger and his lips are stretching into the prettiest of smiles.
riki is taking another step forward, eliminating any remaining space between your bodies and pressing you firmly against the tree. you feel the rumble of his voice in your core as he speaks, “no shit,” he's saying with a laugh, grip loosening around your wrist to let your arm lamely fall at your side. he's holding his hand out in between you, brow raised and thumb still pressed to your lips.
“here,” you sigh, wiggling the book from between your bodies to hand it out to him. he takes the sketchbook immediately, tucking it beneath one arm quickly. but he doesn't move, his body remains pressed against yours, dark eyes dropping down the length of your body and for the first time he's taking in the fact that you're wearing his hoodie. his fingers glide down the length of your neck, catching the fabric of the hood before reaching lower to trace the design at the collarbones and you literally see the way his mind wanders.
his mind drifts to his countless drawings of you in this very sketchbook, his hoodie swallowing your frame while your hand reveals parts of your body to his greedy eyes. and the fact that you're standing in front of him now, wearing it has a violent heat pulsing through his veins. his jaw tightens and you watch the movement closely, the purse of his lips intriguing you. he looks especially handsome today, standing this close to him makes it very hard to ignore.
he's still breathing heavily, chest rising and falling beneath the thin black shirt and you make note to tease him about his failing lungs later. the shirt cuts off at his shoulders, arms on full display and you don't miss the way the muscles flex and jump with each movement of his hands; which are covered in his same silver rings, bracelets stacked on his wrists. a few strands of his sandy blond hair has fallen into his eyes, sticking up in every direction from having to chase after you.
you hate how standing this close forces you to notice things that you never have before, the tiny mole on his lash line, how obnoxiously high his cheekbones were, there's a pretty glow to his skin that gives away to the existence of his skincare routine, interrupted only by the light flush on his cheeks, the tip his ears an unmistakable red. you almost sum it up to the chase, until you're feeling his cock jump against your thigh.
your eyes snap up to his face, “riki...” you start but he doesn't hear you, he's too busy curling his fingers around the large zipper resting against your chest. his lip is caught between his teeth and his eyes are glued to his fingers as they slowly drag the zipper of his hoodie down. you're afraid he'd feel the pounding in your chest as his knuckles drag over it, just slightly brushing against the fabric of your shirt – right between your breasts. you're letting out a breathless sound that you don't really understand, but it has a smirk lifting the corners of his lips the dimple on his right cheek making an appearance.
“you're such a brat,” he's mumbling and you're only just now realizing how deep his voice truly is. it leaves you speechless, like literally you feel like your brain is fried. your lips part to speak but no words come out, all you can do is stare at him. and try desperately to ignore the heat that rises in your chest, the familiar throb between your legs as his hand reaches back up toward the collar of the hoodie. he's easily knocking it off of your shoulders before reaching over to do the same on the other side. the fabric pools at your elbows and he's easily sliding it off of you, tucking the garment beneath his arm with his sketchbook. “brats don't deserve expensive gifts,”
he's stepping back fully after that and despite the sun beating down on your bodies, you feel freezing. your arms fold over your chest immediately, a pout forming on your lips. “riki, i'll be cold.” he's letting out a short laugh, shoulders lifting in a lazy shrug, already taking steps backward to return to his spot under the tree before you had decided to bother him. “that's your punishment,” he says through a grin, amusement lacing his tone.
you're not sure how long you stand there watching his back after he turned to walk away, you just know it takes that long for you to regain your composure. your heart can't seem to stop pounding, blush flushing your cheeks and the back of your neck and an uncomfortable wetness between your legs. what the hell was that? when you had stolen his book, which you had no intention to go through really, you had assumed that he'd ignore you or get annoyed, demand for you to give it back.
not trap you against a tree where everyone could see and undress you. yes, he was just taking his hoodie back, but he still undressed you! “oh my god,” your hands lift to cover your cheeks, head shaking from side to side. after all the evaluating and analyzing, over analyzing. you couldn't believe you missed one possible factor. whether or not riki was in love with you aside, you forgot to account for the other potential aspect. the messier side of the hypothesis that required much more digging.
your feelings for riki.
[ i'm obsessed with these two lwk, what did you think? + if u asked to be tagged & aren't turn my notifs on! tumblr didn't let me tag a lot of u :/ ]
forever tags: @noidnoentry @lilpeachgrl @jakeycakeys @str4rxy7 @jaxenberry @noisyjunglegorgon @prettygirlthings-world @yeseoist @rayofsunshineeee @mayawastaken26 @beomluvrr @tinyenha @w2heehoon @rikisonline @reading-wh0re @nodoubtily @only4nrkkiii @aeriville @lilllslayswanderwoodsan @ahgasedaddz
checking mother's account every day for pt. 3....
