⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ * ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ * ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ * ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ * ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
What a strange conversation. It was rare for Grégorie to have such long verbal combat. Usually, his opponent would give up after a brief exchange of words. And, as the culmination of the battle, they would throw in a gruff, pretentious comment or a curse word. Garçon, however, was a tenacious opponent and often surprised Grégorie with his no-nonsense responses. True, the Guy gave the impression of being disgustingly flirtatious and complacent. He probably thought Grégorie liked it, which was actually a joke in its own ironic way. So was it now, when Garçon suggested that Grégorie need do nothing for his favor. Plus, the wink. He really, really didn’t have to do that. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything for your favor. But I am willing to sacrifice a sheep as long as you stop winking.” He directed an artificial pleading look in his direction. God, Garçon was really acting as the romantic of all time. Grégorie, however, felt more like at the uncle’s birthday party than a date in his company.
Garçon seemed affected by Grégorie’s words. Or at least, in an exaggerated way, he pretended that he was. ‘Drama King’ would have been the perfect nickname for the newly met boy. He literally acted as if life was one big play, and he was obviously playing the lead role. Grégorie would probably be the grass in it or a grain of sand #13.
“Idiote? Ouch. What have I done to earn myself that title, mon cher? I’ll have you know I’ve been in all-honors classes all of my life.” Garçon informed him proudly. Grégorie looked at him as if he had just heard the most unnecessary information in his life. Perhaps all French men whose name began with a ‘G’ and ended with ‘on’ have blown egos.
“If you prefer the nickname narcisso to l’idiote, then, of course, I can call you that, a-guy-who-went-to-all-honors-classes.” He rolled his eyes, mockingly uttering that sentence. Garçon could even win the Nobel Prize at the age of three for saving a flock of squirrels from a forest fire, and Grégorie still wouldn’t change his opinion of him. Garçon was too flirty and annoying to become the boy’s friend.
Grégorie began to think that he might have aroused Garçon’s fascination with him. That might have been the reason why he had approached him. To blend in, Grégorie sat down in the least desirable place for students. This was a foolish thing to do, for it was what set him apart from the rest of the group and drew the eyes of others. Others like Garçon.
This was not entirely true. Garçon enigmatically stated that he had seen Grégorie once. But what did that mean in the guy’s seductive language? Grégorie had no idea. He might as well have asked 'And where specifically was that?" but he reflexed himself before he did. The answer would probably be: 'Tomorrow on a date under a tree. Bleh, Grégorie was already beginning to know what the boy sitting in front of him might have said. Anyway, if he wanted to unravel this mystery, he would need to take a more subtle and meticulous approach. That would take a lot of time. And that would mean a lot of meetings with Garçon. Actually, he didn’t care at all how they met or what Garçon meant by that.
“D-mn. Disappointing indeed… I’d love another try, if you’d be so kind. I promise my lips are a lot softer than my fingers.” Wait, excuse me? Grégorie looked at him with wide eyes. That answer was one of those incredibly witty ones. After hearing it, someone else would probably want to prove their kissing skills to Garçon. But not Grégorie. He assumed a judging pose (though it took him a moment to get his thoughts under control after hearing that sexual statement) and began to nod slowly.
“I think I may be contacting you next week about this. Though I wouldn’t count on it.” He ventured, giving the boy false hope. “My desk will probably be very dusty after a week and could use some nice cleaning. Perhaps your silken lips will be suitable for wiping as befits a real handkerchief.” He placed a finger on his chin in a gesture of thoughtfulness. “Though that probably won’t be enough to get rid of the dust. Can your mouth also suck?” he asked innocently. The only way to stop Garçon from flirting and knock him out was to do the opposite of what he expected. Grégorie hoped that his not-so-innocent question would catch his colleague by surprise and get him off his high horse.
Waiting for his reaction, Grégorie looked around the cafeteria. The overly cheerful and scary girl with pink hair was nowhere near the booth. Grégorie guessed that she was still a nuisance to the other girl who hadn’t bought a ticket. Grégorie didn’t want to be her next victim, and he didn’t know how much longer she would be out of the booth area. He turned his gaze toward the pizza and the still eating Garçon. He didn’t want to rush him, but he had no other choice. “Listen, I am sorry, but I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible, and it’s not appropriate for me to leave you alone at the table.” He said in one breath. It was probably the first sentence without even a hint of sarcasm. However, this was a serious situation and could not be taken as a joke.
I LOVED YOUR POST! THE LIPS PART OMGGGGG SO SMOOTH AHHH! YES WE WILL SUFFER AND THEY WILL AS WELL, OOPS! I am sorry I know it post is not my A-game, ahhh
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ * ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ * ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Cafeteria 
OFC AND THERE ARE NEVER ANY MISTAKES!
