laconic | sᴀᴛᴏsᴇʀᴇ

29. 》》 Plexure

❝ (n.) The act or process of weaving together; that which is woven together.❞

My heartbeats skipped three times in a row, and The rosiness of his cheeks remained unvaried, as though it was cemented there for a lifetime - especially when the space between us became almost negligible after he closed it.

"About - us?" I blurted out, unable to keep up with the weird exchange of queasy stares. Dangerous or not, but Gladion's presence had never affected me the way it was doing this exact second.

I observed him gapping lips in order to reply, and I gnawed the inside of my cheek and profusely sweated to hear him, to get done with whatever he was so damn flustered about.

"I - " He wrinkled his eyes closed, struggling to what I guess was forming a sentence - and I gave him time for the same, collectedly nodding.

But he shook his head, supposedly choosing otherwise. "I don't think I can say it here. Haste makes waste, after all." He wandered a hand through his irresistibly sleek blonde hair, gaping at his feet and then at me again. "Let's meet somewhere tomorrow, what do you say?"

When I dumbly made a 'huh' expression at what he said - for it being the first time ever that I was invited somewhere by a guy - Gladion let out a huff of thick air, taking a few steps backwards.

"I mean, uh," He still seemed muddled about something I couldn't point out. "Screw that, I'm gonna text you the deets tonight. 'Kay bye!"

With that, he turned on his heel and jogged up the stairs before I could even ask what was wrong.

Frowning with my eyebrows, I mapped out the possible conclusions of the supposed meeting - don't even consider it as a date Sere, you mad or what? Who would even wanna spend their pleasingly valuable weekend hours talking to a girl who stutters while saying her own darned name in public, and doesn't even know how to type with both hands on a desktop computer?

Additions to it was the universal fact that was like stitched on the walls of my brain: There was no way Gladion had developed feelings for a girl as bland as me. Not on my watch, as Bianca likes to put it. No. Just, No.

I was overlooking into things like any other day, and I've got to put an end to these rough assumptions before they take a form of someone's defective hopes.