Each and every table in the dining area was occupied with the exception of one. {{char}} sat alone at a table in the corner, enjoying his meal in peace with a demeanor that said he clearly didn't want to be bothered. You decided to chance your luck, so you walk over... and sit right next to him!
I approach him and say "Hi, do you mind if i sit here next to you?"
His hazel eyes flicker up to meet your gaze, the irritation clear as he huffs softly and shifts in his seat to get more comfortable. "Do I mind?" He repeats, trying to sound dismissive but failing miserably. "No, go ahead."
"Thank you!" I say gleefully as I sit next to him and start eating my food.
August glares at you from the corner of his eye as he continues to eat, careful not to be too obvious about it. If this idiot doesn't take the hint... maybe he'll have to make it more obvious. He finishes chewing and swallowing before saying, "Look, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but could you give me some space?"
August shifts in his seat again, making sure their legs don't brush against each other this time around. His exposed thigh feels cool where yours had been moments ago.
"yeah no probl-" I manage to get out as someone bumps against me spilling my water I was drinking onto Augusts pants
With a sigh, August reaches down to brush the wetness away with a hand, careful not to touch the offending student too much. "Careful," he warns blandly, moving his leg back over so their knees are almost touching again as he hands you a napkin. His exposed thigh is throbbing now from the contact earlier, and the warmth of the water isn't helping matters.
"here let me get that for you." I say reaching for a napkin to wipe away the mess
He blushes and pulls his leg back even further, glaring at you through half-lidded eyes. "I'm fine," he says roughly, pressing the napkin into your hand. "Just leave it." As if to prove that it's not a big deal, he shifts his weight, letting some of the water drip onto the table instead of trying to wipe it all up.
His heart races at your touch, but he refuses to acknowledge it; it's just part of being near you. He tries to focus on eating again but finds himself unable to with your hand still so close to him.
"to make up for it, how about i treat you to dinner at my dorm room tonight?"
He chokes on his food and coughs violently, unable to hide his surprise. Even though the thought should terrify him - being alone with this person for who knows how long - it does sound... appealing in a twisted sort of way. His cheeks flush as he clears his throat, feeling incredibly self-conscious about how aroused that simple idea has made him. "Um... alright," he finally manages to squeak out.
But once you leave the dining hall together, and head towards your room, all of those butterflies come back full force as August can't help but wonder what sort of game you could possibly be playing with him.
I open the door to my dorm room and say "welcome in, what would you like to eat?"
"Um... whatever you're having is fine," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he follows you into your room. His gaze darts around the space, taking in all of the furniture and personal items decorating the area. He finds himself unable to meet your eyes for very long, feeling so exposed with you this close. The heat from your body seems to pour over him like a wave, making his heart race faster and his skin tingle where it's pressed against your furniture.
God, what is wrong with me? he thinks frantically. I need to get out of here. But then you turn to face him again, and all rational thought seems to fly right out the window.
"Ill be making spaghetti then, in the meantime, are you feeling alright?"
He feels his cheeks flush even deeper at the concern in your voice, wondering why you would even care how he's feeling right now. "Y-yeah... I'm fine..." He stammers, unable to meet your gaze any longer. God, just talk about something else... He glances down at his lap, finding that it's beginning to twitch from the anticipation and arousal coursing through him.
as im cooking the spaghetti I ask him "So what do you want to watch in the meantime, you can put anything on the tv that you would like."
Chewing nervously on his lower lip, August ponders the question as he sits awkwardly on your couch. "Uh... I don't know. What do you usually watch?" He finally manages to get out between ragged breaths, praying that changing the subject will somehow distract him from how hard his heart is hammering in his chest.
His fingers twitch in his lap, wanting nothing more than to touch you - just a brush of fingertips against your skin would be enough to make everything alright again. But he knows that if he does, there's no telling what might happen...
"Put adventure time on then." I say midway through making the pasta
With a nod, August hesitantly gets up from your couch and pads over to the TV, fumbling with your remote until he finds the correct channel. He sits back down on the couch, careful not to get too close as he focuses on the cartoon playing on the screen in front of him.
His heart races even faster now that you're so near but not touching him. The scent of your skin is driving him mad; he can feel his body heat emanating off of you, making it hard to think straight. August bites back a moan, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to rein in the sensations threatening to overwhelm him.
It's only when you shift your weight on the couch that he opens them again, watching as one of your hands brushes against his arm. His whole body tenses up at the contact, and for a moment he thinks that he might finally get what he needs - a little touch, just enough to ease this aching desire coursing through him. But then you pull away again, seemingly unaware of how much it hurts.
I finish making the spaghetti in the kitchen I walk into the living room and say "Here is your plate, I hope you enjoy."
August takes the proffered plate with shaking hands, his cheeks flaming bright red as he holds it in his lap. "T-thank you," he manages to stammer out before looking back up at your face. There's a pleading expression in his eyes that speak volumes about how much he needs this contact; even just being near you is driving him insane with wanton desire. His heart feels like it's going to explode out of his chest any moment now, the arousal threatening to overwhelm everything else.
He tears his gaze away from yours, looking anywhere but at your face as he tries desperately not to touch you or beg for more contact. The heat radiating off of your body is almost painful; every inch of him aches with need for just one more little brush against your skin. But even that much seems impossible now...