—ix. bouquet
Prez is currently being stared at by a small child. She can’t be more than six but her stare still unnerves him.
Normally, this wouldn’t bother him because he’s used to getting weird looks from people almost all the time, however the little girl has been staring at him with wide eyes for almost three minutes straight without blinking. He wonders where Marceline and her parents have gone and why the only people he knows at this reception have suddenly abandoned him at the table.
He gives a small, sort of awkward smile.
“Your hair is pink,” the girl finally says.
“Salmon,” he automatically corrects (why is this such a hard concept for people?).
She squints up at him. “I don’t really like salmon, but my mom says it’s good for me so I have to eat it whenever she makes it for dinner.”
“What—no I meant that—nevermind,” he says, silently admitting defeat, “So. Pink hair. It was an accident. My brothers did it without me knowing.”
She gives him an empathetic look. “That’s so mean!” she exclaims, “I don’t have brothers but this boy in my school sometimes does mean stuff to me too. He calls me mean names.”
Prez gasps, horrifically. “The villain!”
“And he broke my Spiderman lunchbox!” she tells him, her expression is a sort of pained one as she pouts adorably.
“Did you beat him up?” he asks and smirks.
She laughs. “I can’t do that! He’s older than me. He’s ten.”
“I can beat him up for you,” Prez offers playfully. He smiles wide as the little girl giggles (and a couple of fairies are born. Or something like that, that’s how the story goes isn’t it?).
“You’re really nice,” she says and then adds, “For a boy.”
He sighs dramatically. “I guess you’re okay too, for a girl.”
She smiles at him. “I like your hair. Even though it’s pink. And I like your eyes too. They’re weird…but nice.”
“Thank you!” he says and it is completely genuine, “I like your hair and your eyes too. So much prettier than mine.”
She smiles again, a big dimpled one, and then looks down at her lap so he can’t see her blush.
“Hey,” Prez says getting up and going around the table. He holds a hand out to her. “You wanna dance?”
She brightens visibly and then deflates as she says, “But I don’t know how.”
“It’s okay look,” Prez says as he gently leads her to the dance floor, “I’ll teach you. Stand on my feet.”
YOU ARE READING
Summer Lights and City Nights
Teen FictionIt starts when he tries to woo her in the comic book shop where she works. Because that's how you woo ALL the ladies. Obviously. And then it goes downhill from there. "You're so weird. God. Don't touch me, you probably have cooties." (cover credit t...
