Plunge
Flirting
~Cassidy~
It was really weird studying him.
It was like I couldn’t tear my eyes away, no matter how much I wanted to; no matter how much I tried. His curly brown hair was swept up off of his forehead, secured back by a black bandanna, his eyes sparkling in the dull light that the gray clouds provided. Those eyes…whenever they pierced my own, I couldn’t help but to melt.
His lips were curved up into a wide smile, making me wonder if they would taste the same way they’d tasted four days ago. The kiss had been wild, explosive and passionate, something I’d never indulged in before, but I was glad that I’d shared that first experience with him.
He wore a red checkered shirt, the top buttons undone, revealing the chain of his silver cross necklace and the bit of ink—swallows. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, acquainting me with the few tattoos that littered the space around his wrist. He wore black skinny jeans and dark brown ankle boots.
A few rings adorned his long, spindly fingers, the same fingers that had pushed hair away from my face and had cupped my chin seemingly countless times.
The main reason he’d come outside was to greet his friends—the ones that had come to visit. They had mounted out of a car, and he’d walked out onto the porch and down the front steps, embracing each of them in a ‘bro’ hug. He looked genuinely happy, and I couldn’t help but to let a small smile creep its way onto my face as I saw.
“You’re doing it again, my dear,” Mrs. Jansen told me, snapping me from my thoughts.
My head whipped around to look at her, and subconsciously my feet pushed at the ground, rocking us forward on the small swing that stood on her porch. I smiled at her sheepishly, gripping my cold cup and taking a sip of my lemonade.
“Mm,” I hummed in appreciation at the sweet taste, “Sorry, Mrs. Jansen.”
She smiled fondly at me, her eyes then flicking behind me to land on Harry, “Don’t be ashamed darling. He is a very good-looking boy.”
I chuckled lightly, amused at how even she seemed slightly captured by his appearance. He was good-looking—so very much. I honestly didn’t know why he was wasting his time with someone like me.
“Don’t say that,” Mrs. Jansen scolded, and only then did I realise I’d said this out loud, “You are so beautiful Cassidy. He’s lucky to have you.”
Yes, I’d told her. Well, I hadn’t really. She’d just sort of guessed, and of course, it had been spot-on. I didn’t want to lie to Mrs. Jansen, but she wasn’t stupid; she knew how to put two and two together, and there was honestly no point in me trying to deny it—I would just be wasting my breath.
“I still can’t believe it,” she laughed—a sweet, tinkling sound, “My Cassidy has a boyfriend.”
“I don’t even know if you can call it that,” I mumbled, “He’s barely spoken two words to me in four days.”
Mrs. Jansen made a tsk-tsk noise, and I almost laughed. She was really stubborn—she hated to believe that things weren’t all peachy and right in the world. You’d think she’d be less naïve, considering she’d been alive way longer than I have, but she was still every bit as new to the real world as an eight-year-old girl.
“He’s probably just nervous, my darling,” she consoled me, “You’re a very hard person to figure out. I think he’s taking his time, trying to analyze you and figure out what you like and dislike, because he wants to do something for you that you will genuinely appreciate. It’s quite romantic, actually.”
She smiled tenderly, her gaze settling on Harry, who was still outside.
“I guess,” I admitted, and she looked up at the sky.
“It looks like it’s going to pour,” she chuckled, before standing up, and then looked expectantly at me, “Won’t you come in?”
“I’ll be there in a second,” I replied, shooting her a smile, which she returned. She sighed as she passed me, hobbling inside and closing the door lightly. I closed my eyes briefly, still gripping my lemonade and taking another sip, hoping to distract myself from everything right now.
I took a deep breath, emitting a soft sigh, before taking a risk to glance at Harry.
His friends had gone inside now, but he was still standing on his terrace. He was staring right at me. I forced myself to maintain the stares being traded between us and not to look away and blush tomato red.
The left corner of his lips quirked up in a small, lopsided smirk, such a small action, but it made me swoon.
I shot him a small smile, both of my hands now circled around my lemonade cup, gripping the glass tightly. I could see his body shake with a small chuckle and he smiled down at the ground before he looked back up at me and winked.
He fucking winked. I thought my heart would hammer right out of my chest.
I should go.
He mouthed the words to me, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the door. I couldn’t help but to smile at his adorableness.
You should, I mouthed back, nodding solemnly, but I grinned.
I’ll see you later? The next words formed by his mouth encouraged surprise to arise in my body, but it was quickly replaced with a sort of warmth. He wanted to see me again?
In response I simply nodded. He returned it, beaming at me before staying there, seeming to watch me. We just stayed like that for a few moments before I cocked and eyebrow and tilted my head to the side, indicating that he should’ve been inside by now.
He seemed to snap out of it, and he ruffled the back of his head, smiling sheepishly, before turning away and disappearing through the door.
As soon as he was gone, I turned back to the front of the porch, realising that small drops of water had begun to fall from the sky. I sighed lightly, staring up at the cloudy sky in distaste, hoping that there would be no thunder or lightning—and clutched my cup, standing up and walking back inside the Jansens’ house.
~*~
Later that night, I was perched on my bed, reading Harry Potter. My phone was lying on my pillow beside me as my eyes swept across each page lined with words, willing myself to get lost in the world that J.K. Rowling had created and slapped onto paper.
Suddenly, my phone dinged, and I set the book down, using my thumb as a bookmark, and grabbed the tiny device, opening it and unlocking it. It showed I had a text, so I quickly set the book down and sat up, sifting through my messages. It was a random number I’d never seen before, but the contact was labelled ‘Curly-Haired Sex God’.
He didn’t.
Hello gorgeous, the text read.
Holy fuck, he did.
How the hell did you get my number? I texted back, my eyes slowly widening. I waited a few agonizing moments before my phone lit up again, and I hurriedly read over the text hungrily, feeling so desperate.
I have my ways ;) you look stunning, by the way.
My eyes widened again, growing to the size of fucking tennis balls, and I gasped. I knew that my face was totally pink.
The Harry Potter book lay forgotten on my pillows as I scrambled up off of the bed, never failing to bang my leg on the edge and curse. I hurried over to my window and peeked through, only to find him lying on his bed, his phone held in his hands.
And then, almost as if he could sense my gaze, his head slowly turned towards me, and his eyes slowly crinkled, the corners of his lips curving up into a small smirk, which later grew into a grin. He lazily wagged his fingers at me in a greeting.
I shook my head disapprovingly but couldn’t fight a small smile. Looking down at my phone I quickly typed back: Perv.
My gaze slowly drifted back up, watching him. He looked intently at his phone, read the single word, and threw his head back onto the pillows, laughing. It finally gave me an opportunity to take him all in.
He was in the same clothes he’d worn today, minus the shoes, of course, and he was lying on his back, facing up at the ceiling. His legs were bent; the bottoms of his feet resting on his mattress, and the sight alone made my brain become all giddy for some unknown reason.
My phone lit up again, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked down at the screen.
You love it, he’d sent. Those three words were enough to send my mind spiralling into another pit of thought, doubt and worry.
Desperate not to let the overreaction take control, I looked back up at him, sending him a mock-glare, accompanied by my middle finger.
He laughed again, exposing his perfectly straight white teeth, his jade eyes glinting playfully. He cocked his head to the side, resulting in my confusion. I stared at him with a knit brow and he chuckled again before turning back to his phone, his thumbs flying over the small keyboard.
You really do look beautiful, you know.
I looked away after reading the text, my face turning the lightest shade of pink. Most people wouldn’t’ve noticed, but Harry was the farthest thing from most people. I had a feeling he was looking at me right now and smirking, his eyes holding that little twinkle that I found cute and endearing.
Thanks, I replied simply, not looking up at him right away, hoping that my embarrassment would lessen somewhat. Finally I allowed my gaze to lift, and found him staring at his phone, lips pursed, as though he didn’t know how to respond to that. I didn’t blame him. How could you respond to a text that simple?
I supposed he found a way, because his fingers suddenly flew over the keyboard, tapping what I assumed to be the ‘Send’ button with a finality that I could sense even from here. A moment later, my phone dinged, and I peered at the message.
You’re welcome.
I couldn’t help but to snort, and I looked up at him, rolling my eyes. He stuck out his tongue playfully before turning back to his phone and typing something else. I leaned against the windowsill and waited.
What book were you reading? He’d asked.
I couldn’t help but to smirk lightly and send back: You’re quite the disturbing little shit, aren’t you?
Once again, he looked down at his phone and laughed, setting the small device down and covering his face with his hands. I couldn’t help but to chuckle as well, watching his amusement at my obviously engaging and charming sense of humour.
I waited for him to pick the cell phone back up and text me back, but then immediately scolded myself. I’m so desperate, God. What the hell was happening to me right now? I liked it—I liked being attracted to someone, in a weird way—but at the same time I found it extremely annoying. I felt as though I was somehow betraying myself.
I didn’t really know if I actually was, but it sure as hell felt like it. And while the feeling of liking someone did feel nice, I was scared at how needy I seemed all of a sudden.
My phone lit up, indicating that I had a message, finally snapping me out of my internal brawl with myself. I subconsciously braced myself, staring down at the tiny device in my hands before opening it and unlocking it.
The message popped up on my screen, and as I read over it, I couldn’t help but to allow my breathing to speed up.
Come outside.
It was really weird studying him.
It was like I couldn’t tear my eyes away, no matter how much I wanted to; no matter how much I tried. His curly brown hair was swept up off of his forehead, secured back by a black bandanna, his eyes sparkling in the dull light that the gray clouds provided. Those eyes…whenever they pierced my own, I couldn’t help but to melt.
His lips were curved up into a wide smile, making me wonder if they would taste the same way they’d tasted four days ago. The kiss had been wild, explosive and passionate, something I’d never indulged in before, but I was glad that I’d shared that first experience with him.
He wore a red checkered shirt, the top buttons undone, revealing the chain of his silver cross necklace and the bit of ink—swallows. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, acquainting me with the few tattoos that littered the space around his wrist. He wore black skinny jeans and dark brown ankle boots.
A few rings adorned his long, spindly fingers, the same fingers that had pushed hair away from my face and had cupped my chin seemingly countless times.
The main reason he’d come outside was to greet his friends—the ones that had come to visit. They had mounted out of a car, and he’d walked out onto the porch and down the front steps, embracing each of them in a ‘bro’ hug. He looked genuinely happy, and I couldn’t help but to let a small smile creep its way onto my face as I saw.
“You’re doing it again, my dear,” Mrs. Jansen told me, snapping me from my thoughts.
My head whipped around to look at her, and subconsciously my feet pushed at the ground, rocking us forward on the small swing that stood on her porch. I smiled at her sheepishly, gripping my cold cup and taking a sip of my lemonade.
“Mm,” I hummed in appreciation at the sweet taste, “Sorry, Mrs. Jansen.”
She smiled fondly at me, her eyes then flicking behind me to land on Harry, “Don’t be ashamed darling. He is a very good-looking boy.”
I chuckled lightly, amused at how even she seemed slightly captured by his appearance. He was good-looking—so very much. I honestly didn’t know why he was wasting his time with someone like me.
“Don’t say that,” Mrs. Jansen scolded, and only then did I realise I’d said this out loud, “You are so beautiful Cassidy. He’s lucky to have you.”
Yes, I’d told her. Well, I hadn’t really. She’d just sort of guessed, and of course, it had been spot-on. I didn’t want to lie to Mrs. Jansen, but she wasn’t stupid; she knew how to put two and two together, and there was honestly no point in me trying to deny it—I would just be wasting my breath.
“I still can’t believe it,” she laughed—a sweet, tinkling sound, “My Cassidy has a boyfriend.”
“I don’t even know if you can call it that,” I mumbled, “He’s barely spoken two words to me in four days.”
Mrs. Jansen made a tsk-tsk noise, and I almost laughed. She was really stubborn—she hated to believe that things weren’t all peachy and right in the world. You’d think she’d be less naïve, considering she’d been alive way longer than I have, but she was still every bit as new to the real world as an eight-year-old girl.
“He’s probably just nervous, my darling,” she consoled me, “You’re a very hard person to figure out. I think he’s taking his time, trying to analyze you and figure out what you like and dislike, because he wants to do something for you that you will genuinely appreciate. It’s quite romantic, actually.”
She smiled tenderly, her gaze settling on Harry, who was still outside.
“I guess,” I admitted, and she looked up at the sky.
“It looks like it’s going to pour,” she chuckled, before standing up, and then looked expectantly at me, “Won’t you come in?”
“I’ll be there in a second,” I replied, shooting her a smile, which she returned. She sighed as she passed me, hobbling inside and closing the door lightly. I closed my eyes briefly, still gripping my lemonade and taking another sip, hoping to distract myself from everything right now.
I took a deep breath, emitting a soft sigh, before taking a risk to glance at Harry.
His friends had gone inside now, but he was still standing on his terrace. He was staring right at me. I forced myself to maintain the stares being traded between us and not to look away and blush tomato red.
The left corner of his lips quirked up in a small, lopsided smirk, such a small action, but it made me swoon.
I shot him a small smile, both of my hands now circled around my lemonade cup, gripping the glass tightly. I could see his body shake with a small chuckle and he smiled down at the ground before he looked back up at me and winked.
He fucking winked. I thought my heart would hammer right out of my chest.
I should go.
He mouthed the words to me, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the door. I couldn’t help but to smile at his adorableness.
You should, I mouthed back, nodding solemnly, but I grinned.
I’ll see you later? The next words formed by his mouth encouraged surprise to arise in my body, but it was quickly replaced with a sort of warmth. He wanted to see me again?
In response I simply nodded. He returned it, beaming at me before staying there, seeming to watch me. We just stayed like that for a few moments before I cocked and eyebrow and tilted my head to the side, indicating that he should’ve been inside by now.
He seemed to snap out of it, and he ruffled the back of his head, smiling sheepishly, before turning away and disappearing through the door.
As soon as he was gone, I turned back to the front of the porch, realising that small drops of water had begun to fall from the sky. I sighed lightly, staring up at the cloudy sky in distaste, hoping that there would be no thunder or lightning—and clutched my cup, standing up and walking back inside the Jansens’ house.
~*~
Later that night, I was perched on my bed, reading Harry Potter. My phone was lying on my pillow beside me as my eyes swept across each page lined with words, willing myself to get lost in the world that J.K. Rowling had created and slapped onto paper.
Suddenly, my phone dinged, and I set the book down, using my thumb as a bookmark, and grabbed the tiny device, opening it and unlocking it. It showed I had a text, so I quickly set the book down and sat up, sifting through my messages. It was a random number I’d never seen before, but the contact was labelled ‘Curly-Haired Sex God’.
He didn’t.
Hello gorgeous, the text read.
Holy fuck, he did.
How the hell did you get my number? I texted back, my eyes slowly widening. I waited a few agonizing moments before my phone lit up again, and I hurriedly read over the text hungrily, feeling so desperate.
I have my ways ;) you look stunning, by the way.
My eyes widened again, growing to the size of fucking tennis balls, and I gasped. I knew that my face was totally pink.
The Harry Potter book lay forgotten on my pillows as I scrambled up off of the bed, never failing to bang my leg on the edge and curse. I hurried over to my window and peeked through, only to find him lying on his bed, his phone held in his hands.
And then, almost as if he could sense my gaze, his head slowly turned towards me, and his eyes slowly crinkled, the corners of his lips curving up into a small smirk, which later grew into a grin. He lazily wagged his fingers at me in a greeting.
I shook my head disapprovingly but couldn’t fight a small smile. Looking down at my phone I quickly typed back: Perv.
My gaze slowly drifted back up, watching him. He looked intently at his phone, read the single word, and threw his head back onto the pillows, laughing. It finally gave me an opportunity to take him all in.
He was in the same clothes he’d worn today, minus the shoes, of course, and he was lying on his back, facing up at the ceiling. His legs were bent; the bottoms of his feet resting on his mattress, and the sight alone made my brain become all giddy for some unknown reason.
My phone lit up again, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked down at the screen.
You love it, he’d sent. Those three words were enough to send my mind spiralling into another pit of thought, doubt and worry.
Desperate not to let the overreaction take control, I looked back up at him, sending him a mock-glare, accompanied by my middle finger.
He laughed again, exposing his perfectly straight white teeth, his jade eyes glinting playfully. He cocked his head to the side, resulting in my confusion. I stared at him with a knit brow and he chuckled again before turning back to his phone, his thumbs flying over the small keyboard.
You really do look beautiful, you know.
I looked away after reading the text, my face turning the lightest shade of pink. Most people wouldn’t’ve noticed, but Harry was the farthest thing from most people. I had a feeling he was looking at me right now and smirking, his eyes holding that little twinkle that I found cute and endearing.
Thanks, I replied simply, not looking up at him right away, hoping that my embarrassment would lessen somewhat. Finally I allowed my gaze to lift, and found him staring at his phone, lips pursed, as though he didn’t know how to respond to that. I didn’t blame him. How could you respond to a text that simple?
I supposed he found a way, because his fingers suddenly flew over the keyboard, tapping what I assumed to be the ‘Send’ button with a finality that I could sense even from here. A moment later, my phone dinged, and I peered at the message.
You’re welcome.
I couldn’t help but to snort, and I looked up at him, rolling my eyes. He stuck out his tongue playfully before turning back to his phone and typing something else. I leaned against the windowsill and waited.
What book were you reading? He’d asked.
I couldn’t help but to smirk lightly and send back: You’re quite the disturbing little shit, aren’t you?
Once again, he looked down at his phone and laughed, setting the small device down and covering his face with his hands. I couldn’t help but to chuckle as well, watching his amusement at my obviously engaging and charming sense of humour.
I waited for him to pick the cell phone back up and text me back, but then immediately scolded myself. I’m so desperate, God. What the hell was happening to me right now? I liked it—I liked being attracted to someone, in a weird way—but at the same time I found it extremely annoying. I felt as though I was somehow betraying myself.
I didn’t really know if I actually was, but it sure as hell felt like it. And while the feeling of liking someone did feel nice, I was scared at how needy I seemed all of a sudden.
My phone lit up, indicating that I had a message, finally snapping me out of my internal brawl with myself. I subconsciously braced myself, staring down at the tiny device in my hands before opening it and unlocking it.
The message popped up on my screen, and as I read over it, I couldn’t help but to allow my breathing to speed up.
Come outside.
Notes
Let me apologize for taking so long to update! I was going to do it over the weekend, but yesterday was my birthday, so I couldn't. Sorry!I really liked writing this chapter for some reason :p VOTE, COMMENT, SUBSCRIBE, and all that jazz! Let's reach 100+ votes, shall we? Comment too! I love hearing you guys!
Random fact: Shakespeare invented many words, including "assassination", "bedroom", and "bump"!
~Stay perfect~
I haven't forgotten about this story. Please update soon!!
10/25/15