𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕 | 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀

xander harris watched as you walked past, his eyes trailing over your figure. he stood abruptly, leaving buffy and willow confused and speculating. he jogged towards you, calling your name, as subtly as he could manage (not very subtle).

but as you turned to face him, the breath was sucked out of his throat. he admired your features in silence, the curve of your nose, the slight downturn of your lips, the judgemental look you were giving him. your eyes never got any less captivating— ew. what was he thinking? he didn’t even like you that much. even if the two of you had spent the last month skipping classes to, well, you know, in whatever spare space you could manage. but no one could know. certainly not buffy and willow.

“… uh, hey.” he said after a moment, shifting from one foot to another restlessly. “are you … busy?”