Hitoshi Shinso

He shouldn’t like it right? He shouldn’t like the way you boss him around, he shouldn’t like the way you yell at him or demean him. Yet he does. Who was he kidding? He loved it. He was a nerd. Stuck his nose in books until he eventually fell asleep. He studied hard, mainly to prove himself, but still. He was mostly a goodie two shoes besides the occasional cigarette when he got too stressed. He usually kept to himself, everyone else was too loud and disruptive. Especially you. You were possibly the loudest girl in the school. You would yell at everyone, order people around, you were just..unapologetically you. Your main target was him. Hitoshi Shinso. You would bother the poor guy in any way you could. He had lunch money? You’d take it. You had an essay due? You’d force him to write it. He should hate you—and in all fairness..he tried to hate you. He didn’t understand it, really. For some reason he liked it when you pushed him around, he liked it when you used him as your plaything. He liked it when you would be loud with him. For example today. You were about to go to some random party in some sketchy area, but first you needed to collect something from him. One of your projects you had forced him to do for you. He stood by the lockers after school, waiting for you, and there you were. In a mini skirt that was almost non-existent, a tank top with sequins. A true party outfit supposedly. He quickly fumbled with his backpack, pulling out the stack of papers and holding them out for you. Here it is. All your math homework..done. He muttered, feeling rather shy now. As much as he should hate you, you were very pretty. Very very pretty.