super seniority [closededed]

He'd been holding his breath as she stirred, still fearful yet of disturbing her too much and half expecting her to roll away from him. Yet she didn't. She might have even seemed a bit comfortable there. And instead of shoving him away again, she was smiling, with the slow glow of the lights above them reflecting in her warm eyes. Preston grinned again. It was small, and crooked, and probably looked fucking stupid as all hell, but he couldn't help himself - not tearing his gaze away for a single moment.

"Not you," He murmured back, his voice like silk. Had it been anyone else in this situation with him, he would have been on his game ten miles ago. What was happening right then, whatever the hell it was, seemed far too precious, too valuable to even fathom anything else. He didn't want to fuck it up. The young man kept mostly still, thumbing away at the cotton of her shirt.

Yeah, yeah, bullshit. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't squash down the grin that cracked wider across her face. She reached up with her good hand and poked at his cheek, tiny sparks snapping between them at the slightest skin to skin contact. "Then what?" she asked, just holding back a laugh. Was there something behind her? Kayla didn't like that shit-eating smile he had on his lips. She cocked her head, searching that ocean-like gaze. "C'mon. Fess up, creeper." She pulled her hand back.

He could hear the snaps of the small sparks bouncing across his skin and quickly puffed his cheek out, scrunching his face up. It felt more like feathers tickling away at him. "Shit, the TV," He spat out through his smile, scoffing over-dramatically, blurting the first thing that came to mind. Peeking over her shoulder, it was clicked black, same as it had been all night. Well, fuck. "And maybe you too..." In petty revenge, he brought his hand up, nimbly pinching away at her cheek. "You got a problem with that?" Bitch. Ss he drew his hand away, a few fingers brushed up against her temple, pulling a few stray bangs out of her eyes.That didn't make him any sort of creeper. b-baka

Uh-huh. Kayla rolled her eyes, only scrunching up her face when he reached up to clinch her cheek. "Biiitch...!" she whinged, weak sparks popping around her face and tickling at her skin. She shot him a pointed glance as he drew his hand back, but her eyes softened at the lightest brush against the side of her face, and she couldn't hold his gaze. Her eyes flicked away, holding her breath in the back of her throat, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest underneath her. "So you really are a creep," she scoffed, turning her eyes up at him again with a lopsided smile. Yeah, that was a problem for most people. He couldn't even deny it. "You're not supposed to stare at girls."

A slight frown overtook him. He tried his best to put on that stern look she had mastered so well; for most of the time, anyways. It wasn't often he got to witness those harsh looks of hers crumble so easily. "That's bullshit," He chuckled. Creep was such a strong fucking word. "Someone has to keep their eye on you." While one hand continued to gently rub away at her back, he brought his free arm up, lazily tucking it behind his head.

It was such a soft, gentle, benign movement, but she couldn't help but feel over-conscious of his hand rubbing up the back of her shirt. Talk about a fucking creep. "And what? That's you?" she muttered back, resting her chin down on her hand held over his beating heart. There was a quickening light tension. "I think I'm old enough to watch out for myself."

And here he thought he was making some stupid, simple joke. Preston froze up, aside from the heavy rise of his chest as he let out a slow, heavy sigh. His grin retreated away to a small smirk. "Don't be stupid," the young man muttered under his breath. It was probably his own fucking fault the conversation had begun to derail so fast. After everything that had went and fucking happened, between them especially, was she really going to be so god-damned stubborn? Why?

He bit back the first sharp response that came to mind, the warm mood in the air well enough to drive it away yet. Maybe it was his turn to get a little worked up over bullshit. "You know, that's what are supposed friends do. Watch each-other's asses." He had to fight the urge to wrinkle his nose as the own words left his mount, if only because the utter sappiness of it left a weird taste in his mouth. "Dipshit."

And here she'd thought the same thing. She knew she could be a little blunt sometimes when it came to shit like this, but she could notice the change in the air between them the moment the words had left her lips. The change on his face was slight, subtle, but she knew him better than that. Was it something she fucking said? She'd just been responding in kind, and now she couldn't help but notice the tint to his tone, a little defensive, a little indignant. Kayla glanced away with a derisive snort and laughed under her breath. Jesus, fuck. Even she was feeling a little embarrassed by that, even if he was joking around. But something else hit her. At first, she almost didn't notice it, like it'd sailed over her head, until she replayed the sentence in her mind. She felt herself stiffen up, almost a little taken aback.

Kayla rolled off of him, not meeting his eyes. And we're friends? For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

"Yeah, whatever," she murmured, staring up at the drooping canvas ceiling of their pillow fort. "Dipshit."

She didn't have any friends.

A pang of disappointment struck through him once he had realized she was sliding off him, leaving him with awkward, open room to breathe and a slight chill in the room. His blue-green gaze flickered the otherwise, ignoring the slight tension between them. As if he hasn't been offended enough, she'd went and left him alone in the cold. "Am I fucking wrong?" He muttered stubbornly, doubling down on his cheesy-ass agenda. Fuck it. He'd already said it. Might as well stick his ground.

Preston's gaze fell inevitably back on her, thinking nothing to say as she seemed to stay content, looking up and away from him. "Bitch," He muttered under his breath. With little thought he turned and scooted closer to her, wrapping his arm around her stomach and pulling her back in. "Who said you could move away?"

Wrong. Maybe. Maybe not. She couldn't even say. Kayla blew him off without even indicating she'd heard him when he flopped over like the giant fucking lunk he was. "Hey!" she groused as he reached his arm around her waist. One, two, three, pinned. Fuck, she didn't even fight it, just sighed again, turning her head. Who said he could say where she could go? She could lie down wherever she wanted without him nuzzling on her like a god damn pet. "You're like a fucking cat," she grumbled, turning her head to the side and away from him, shifting onto her side to turn her back. It didn't space out any of the distance between them, or throw off his grip around her, but whatever. Kayla had already accepted she couldn't win.

Did he want something from her?

She could feel pinpricks up her back where he lied beside her, and her stomach churned behind his arm.

Fa҉m̛il͘iar̛.

Kayla chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Lay off the sap, will you?" she said lightly.

He laughed under his breath, the sound muffled slightly by her hair as she twisted around away from him, her face hiding away. Preston shifted around himself, getting comfortable amongst the mountain of pillows. "Not being sappy," He murmured back, his hand tucking in comfortably around her. "It's fucking cold in here. Survival 101, Pikachu." It wasn't as if it were the first time they'd shared a close tent together.

He was far more fucking comfortably than he thought he'd be, a hint of a warm smile touching his lips as he hid away himself, letting his eyes fall shut. Pres had truly just been messing around, and had jokingly rubbed his cheek up on her for good measure, if she was going to go and call him a fucking cat of all things, but shit, if just laying there didn't feel nice.

Was it...? Kayla just grumbled back, giving in. Fine, fine, fine, if he was going to grapple on her like a god damn gorilla, then fine. She'd get him back. Eventually. One day. Bitch. He didn't remind her of the tent. The scene went playing back through her mind like a movie reel the moment he said 'survival 101.' Shit, he didn't look too miffed about the cold then. "Whatever," she said, even while he rubbed his cheek up on her. A cat infuckingdeed. "You're a fucking idiot."

She let the smile return, but she wouldn't let him see it.