the stereo was playing radiohead, but francis was barely listening— instead he was watching you.

to most, francis dempsey was known as the cocky flirt— who flirted because it was more natural than breathing to him.

but around you? he could barely form sentences.

you were the little sister of hannah grant, the cheer captain. and everyone’s favorite girl to ship francis with. but he didn’t agree.

he only had eyes for one girl. which happened to be her little sister.

seriously— he was smitten. he would write a poem to this girl, if only she would let him. which was unlikely, considering she still didn’t believe that he actually only had eyes for her.

but that was fine with him, because he knew deep down— that the two of you were meant to be. for better or for worse, he didn’t care.

especially when he’s laying on your bed. with no purpose at all— except for ‘emotional support’ as he called it, while you studied for exams.

this is exactly what he wanted. he never even wanted to be known as the arrogant player— but with you it was just.. natural.