everything's fucked// james cook

part 30: fucked

I dropped my pencil down on the table triumphantly, and took a look at the clock. I had just finished my English A-level with five minutes left, my last A-level I would ever have to take. Standing up and stretching, shaking off the anxiety and nerves that had swum around my head for the past week, I strutted up to the front of the classroom and dropped my test on the pile, waving goodbye at the rest of my classmates, their weary heads still bent over their desks.

I pushed the door open, and stepped out into the hall. As soon as the door swung closed behind me, I let out a sigh of relief and screamed happily. 

Finally done with school, done with Roundview College, almost done with Bristol. Not that I minded Bristol so much any more, though. It had grown on me, slowly but steadily. 

I ran through the hallways, bumping off people and shouting a hasty sorry behind me. Pushing open the doors of the college, I walked outside, breathing in the fresh air. 

June in Bristol is wonderful; not too hot or too cold. The sun shined steadily down upon me as I pushed my green hoodie off my arms, and tied it around my waist. 

Pulling out my phone, I flipped it open and hit the first number on speed dial. 

"You close by?" I asked.

"On my way, love, calm down," Cook said. 

A familiar brown head appeared around a corner, and I ran towards it.

Cook grinned as he saw me running towards him, and scooped me up in a big hug as I jumped into his arms. 

"So, how'd you do?" he asked. 

"Who cares!" I said, throwing my arms up, almost causing the both of us to fall over backwards. "Good enough."

"Come on, princess," Cook said, setting me down and wrapping an arm around my waist. "We've got four hours before the party, let's go have some fun."

He smirked and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

"I love that you think you're funny," I said, patting him on the head. 

"That wasn't a no, was it," he said, looking at me expectantly.

Cut to Cook flinging open my bedroom door, pulling me in and locking the door, before pushing me up against it. 

"Yes or no, princess," he said, caging me in with his hands. 

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" I said, raising my head to his, eyeing his lips.

"So I'm hearing a yes," Cook ventured. 

"Yes, now shut the fuck up and kiss me, fucker," I said, and I smashed his face into mine.

♕⋆♕⋆♕

Cook lay in bed, tracing circles on my hip as I lay next to him.

"I'm going to miss this," I said suddenly.

"We'll still have sex in London, love," Cook said. "Hopefully."

"No, I mean this," I said, gesturing around us. "You and me, in my room, just, I don't know."

"I know," he said softly. "I get it."

He turned his attention to the princess crown on my ribcage, softly touching it with the tip of his finger. 

"I should get one of these," he says.

"Don't copy me," I said, pointing my finger at him jokingly. 

"Something, though," he said absentmindedly.