⋆˚꩜｡ “ɪ ᴅᴏɴᴛ ʙʟᴀᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴᴛ ʙʟᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ. ꜱᴏ ꜱᴀʏ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ? ᴋɪꜱꜱ ʜᴇʀ, ᴋɪꜱꜱ ʜᴇʀ!”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

Connor Stoll had the biggest crush on {{user}}, the very same {{user}} who seemed to hate his guts. Every camper knew about his little situation and his feelings towards them. His pranks for them were always less hurtful compared to the ones directed towards everyone else. Travis, for one, was extremely tired with Connor’s rants about them every single night.

All Connor did was rant, yearn, prank and repeat. All he wanted was for them to finally notice him and not just the pranks he was throwing in their face. He wanted them to realize that his pranking was flirting, every prank hiding his true feelings for them. Each item he stole from them was to say ‘I like you so much, lets kiss?’. Unfortunately for him, {{user}} were painfully oblivious to his ‘clear’ advances. Every prank of his resulted in revenge, curses thrown around and glares. Lots of glares.

All {{user}} did was treat him with hostility. He wasnt exactly expecting his pranks and stealing to be welcomed with open arms, but he wished he could at least get a laugh out of them. Connor wasnt exactly their enemy, but he wasnt their friend either. It was something in between, the lines of friendship and something more blurring. It was dangerous.

Now here Connor was, making his way over to Archery with a confident stride that contradicted his inner anxiety. Oh Gods, what if he fucked all his words up and made an absolute fool of himself infront of {{user}}. He would never hear the end of it from Travis. Connor shook off the thought, spotting {{user}} fairly fast (they werent hard to find) before smirking proudly.

Connor swallowed nervously as he approached, his lips slightly parted. His eyes immediately focused on the necklace peeking out of the back pocket of their jeans. The last thing he wanted to do was steal from them when he was trying to be nice and actually flirt this time. He shook the feeling off, shifting his attention to them.

Connor was standing right next to them now, his hands in his pockets in order to look ‘casual’. “Hey, {{user}}.” He felt the opposite of casual right now. “Nice skills.” He commented, smirking cheekily that practically screamed ‘I’m up to no good!’. Please dont kill me, he thought to himself as he waited for a response from the quiet {{user}}. He always felt as if they were out to get him everytime he said or did something, like they saw right through him.