Stop Playing Innocent // COMPLETED

13 // Valentine's...

Friday afternoon and I'm sitting on the cold floor of my room, having a rough difficulty of opening a dried up bottle of watercolor paint.

At least, the cloudy weather outside matched my mood. 

I inhale a deep breath and attack the lid for the fourth time, but still - no progress.

"Ah, screw this!", I throw the red bottle across my room and it somehow lands on the window, then falls to the floor, leaving messy splatters on the glass, "Ok, maybe not like that."

Ding ding... ding ding ding...
I walk over to the ringing melody of a Skype call playing from my laptop on my desk and fall down onto the chair, clicking the green button. A familiar face comes into view and I mimic their smile.

"Wow, Blake. How many years since we've talked? Two? Three? Too long?", I count on my fingers as if in deep thought, even though I literally spoke to him a couple days ago at school.

"Ha ha. You're so nice", I follow his eyes that roam around his own screen, "Is that paint on your windows?"

"Yes. Can you open a bottle of paint?"

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't pull physical objects out of your device to mine, so, no."

"Have a great day-"

"Okay, okay", he grins, "I know, I'm sorry for leaving you last week at lunch with you-know-who, but I didn't want to ruin your innocent first time of being hit on by a girl", he suggestively wiggles his eyebrows on that last part. 

I lean back into my chair and sigh into my hand that holds up my chin. Yet the wind outside keeps making a howling sound on my window. 

"How come I never knew of her existence? That girl, Violet. It's not like I've seen her before", I ask him when he shrugs and looks away.

"You're never interested in what's going on around the school, so I never told you", he suddenly places both his hands on his table, "But back to why I, Blake Green, took my sacred time to call you."

I smile.

"You know how the rest of our group bailed out for the whole-", he uses his fingers to air quote, "-'Valentines Day' hang out?", fidgeting with something in his hands that I can't see.

"Yeah, they all called me about it", I walk away to pick up the paint bottle from the ground and sit back down, "It's just me and you going to the cinema tomorrow, right?"

Blake has a habit of messily running his hands through his hair when he's nervous or lies.

He runs his hands through his hair.
I tilt my head to the side.

"Blake."

"..."

"We do this every. single. year. and-"

"I know", he huffs, still annoyingly cute, "But you know my brother, don't you? He kind of, maybe, slightly, asked me to go on a date with some girl from his dorm to cover him, while he goes on a date with another girl."