The Ultimate Stride | Prince of Stride Fanfiction |

34 | Hot Pot & Hugs

    | {Kyouko's P.O.V.} |

    "Smoked salmon or beef jerky?"

    "Beef jerky."

"Lace or frills?"

"That's perverted of you to ask... I'd have to say lace, though."

    "I see. Cake or ice cream?"

    "Both, if possible."

    "Pokémon or Digimon?"

    "Pokémon, obviously."

    "Mint or watermelon?"

    "Mint. Hands down."

    "Me or Ryan."

    I paused to dwell on the boy's words before glaring at the laptop resting on the ruffled sheets of my bed across the room. Even though he wasn't there in the flesh, his digital presence was just as agitating as his physical one.

I say that he's annoying, but I can't deny that I love chatting with him whenever I get the chance.

    "Nice try, Brenden, but I'm not the kind of girl to pick and choose favorites. Especially if they're people," I exclaimed, and he heaved an exaggerated sigh.

    "But I really wanna be your favorite~"

    Rolling my eyes at his dejected tone, I stood from the cushioned seat of my desk and twirled over to where I could be seen on his monitor.

    "If you're so avid about being my favorite, then maybe you should try less conspicuous methods of getting me to choose you over all the other cool people I know."

    He huffed. "My methods weren't conspicuous at all. A game of 'Either Or' is the perfect way to learn more things about a person. Not only that, but it's fun, too."

    "Whatever. If you want to be my favorite, then get all the boys to come visit me again. Planned this time. No surprises," I emphasized before jumping onto the bed and spinning the laptop around to face me.

    As I tried to situate myself comfortably on the bed, my eyes instinctively fell upon my mirrored image in the top right corner of the screen. I almost cringed at the sight of me.

    I look like I just crawled out of a dumpster.

    It was mid-afternoon at the time, but my hair was still a mess from my morning run with Kuga and Heath. Little its and bits of my bangs were frizzy from the early hour humidity, and my ponytail was the equivalent to a birds nest.

    As for my attire, the lower half of my body was covered by a pair of grey pajama shorts while my upper body had an over-sized sweater draped lazily over it's minuscule frame.

    Overall, I looked homely. Same with the rest of my apartment, much to my dismay.

    I'll need to clean it before tonight's dinner...

    Brenden's quizzical voice pulled me from my mental planning.

    "I could arrange another visit..." he paused to observe my fatigued features before changing the subject, "Why do you look so tired? Was your run longer than usual today?"