[She pauses, spends the moment watching his chest rise and fall, now that it's right in her line of vision. He's charming, a downright sweetheart with his shyness and awkwardness that contrasts against her bordering into obnoxious teasing and blatant ease. The urge to corrupt him and make him flush and stutter is like a given whenever they're hanging out, and yet, he's looking completely disarmed, no matter how devious she's feeling.
Sometimes she wonders if she's a bad person, for wanting to abuse that trust he gives her.]
Stop being cute. [She says it nonchalantly, joined by a fingertip pressing on his cheek. But it's more of an admission than anything else.]
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Sometimes she wonders if she's a bad person, for wanting to abuse that trust he gives her.]
Stop being cute. [She says it nonchalantly, joined by a fingertip pressing on his cheek. But it's more of an admission than anything else.]