Tragic Kingdom (80s/90s imagines)

73: Edward Furlong

Requested by samantha878899

"What's up, ugly?"

You turned to see your least favorite person, Edward Furlong. He just made it so easy to dislike him, between his reciprocated dislike for you and his general demeanor. "Eff off, Edward."

He just laughed. "What's it like being the dumbest person I know?"

"You must not know yourself very well then," you retorted.

This was how it went. Back and forth, constantly poking and prodding at each other, waiting to see who will break first. It had almost become a game. You almost enjoyed it.

There was something about the little smirk he gave you when he knew he got your blood boiling. Even though his touch was never gentle—usually a punch to the arm or a flick to your ear—it always made you suddenly aware of your hammering heartbeat. You were starting to look forward to hearing his snide remarks that should have hurt you.

If he was being honest, he felt it too. He searched for you any chance he had. He had to make himself say mean things to you, but he loved hearing whatever you spat back. Even though his go-to nickname for you was "ugly," he started to notice little things about you that contradicted his description. Hell, he might even call you "pretty." But never to your face. Your very pretty face.

The next time you were face to face, you had no problem keeping up the charade. If it was what kept him around, you'd keep on telling him he was a dumbass and probably lacking in a particularly masculine area. But you were confused when his typically sharp-tongued comebacks didn't have as much bite as usual.

"Yeah, well... you don't know what you're talking about." His cheeks flamed a hot pink as he was thinking of how to recover from this.

Confusion, and even slight disappointment in him, was written all over your face. "Alrighty then... I guess I'll let you have a moment to sulk about your... problem."

"Wait." When you didn't turn back, he called out. "Hey, ugly, I'm talking to you!"

You stopped and turned on your heels. Your jaw clenched, as you grated your teeth. "What, dipshit?"

"You look nice today."

You blinked. "How am I supposed to respond to that?"

He rolled his eyes, the embarrassment slipping away. "Most people say thank you."

"So you're not teasing me?"

"Do you want me to?"

You opened your mouth but closed it again. Finally deciding on your words, you said, "I don't know. That's all you ever do."

"Well, it's not like you ever have anything nice to say to me either."

"You started it."

This time, he had the disappointed look. "Really? That's what you're going with?"

"I think I like you."

He nodded, looking down at his feet. "Yeah... I think," he scratched the back of his neck, "I think I like you too."

You rocked back on your heels awkwardly. "So..."

"So," he parroted.

"What now?"

That smirk returned. "We could make out."

"Or we could... not."

"But you'll think about it."

You grabbed his hand, thinking that might be a reasonable first step. "Maybe later."

He looked down at your interlaced fingers. "Your hands are cold." But his softened smile said something more.

"Deal with it."

I hope you like it! I'm literally the worst at coming up w insults. I use 8 year olds' insults. But I hope that this is something like you wanted. Thank you for requesting!

I have quite a few requests to get through, but I'm just happy I got one done. Bear with me as I get through them. M'kay.

~Mariah