rivals.

that's what we are. like two eggs dropped on the same bowl beaten together in the same level of class and standard but was scrambled crisped on north and south pole heat of the pan. like the sun is beating down our skin, kissing it with warmth as the cold water from the saltburn lake still clinging to our body, making goosebumps appear as he shiver the slightest bit.

your eyes are closed, a content smile rests on your bitch face, and he despises it more as he makes his way from the edge of the creaky old dock, cursing a few times. eyes locked on your figure laying on the pink towel, a sight like dumbbells on his body, like he's wearing two layers of hoodie as he does so, heating up his insides and making him feel something he shouldn't. probably constipation from disgust.

more so when you open your mouth.

and we're arguing again, as usual.

this bitch. he rolls his eyes. even so, there's still this one certain energy radiating off you that makes him squirm. filling him with curiosity and the urge to cross that invisible line, strangle you or something, maybe make you pay for beating him on tests ranks or make him fall on a cake tower— which was your payback from him filling your room with fireworks at your birthday, causing major fire at the little side of saltburn manor.

"ooh, boo-hoe." teeth sinking down on that biting smirk, tying the knot strongly and then, hooks his finger around the strap. pulls it back and let it snap against your skin, making you jolt in place.

"i dare you."