"Hey, you have a spare charger? My phone's dead."

"Sure," He pointed to his desk absentmindedly. "Should be in the middle drawer."

It started well enough. They had their light banter and preliminary discussions to divide the work load, and so far they had been working on peacefully for about two hours. Given that it was just the start of the semester, the assignment was nothing difficult, just fairly time-consuming.

"Uh, it won't budge. Wait, it caught something underneath. I think we have to open the bottom drawer first."

He paid no heed to the noise until something struck and he got up from his seat so quickly he got himself dizzy.

"WAIT!"

She had pulled the bottom drawer slightly, adjusting what jammed the upper drawer. Surprised, she retracted her hand from the handle, causing the bottom drawer to slid out completely to the open...

revealing messy piles of comics now spilling to the floor.

Awkward silence.

She broke it first. "Someone messing with your stuff?"

There was no mistaking what kind of books they were, the brightly colored pretty guys on the covers told the story well enough.

He shook his head, resigning to his fate. If he was gonna be busted, might as well rip the bandage.

"Nah... Mine, all that."

He was going to end up at the school paper tomorrow, huh.

She took the new information with stride. He couldn't read the expression on her face but he was sure the gears in her brain must be whirring. He waited for the oncoming verbal onslaught, perhaps a jab to his manliness, but the first thing she did was to laugh.

"So...oh my god...you and all your cool guy attitude..."

Man, he was so going to be on the school paper next morning, wasn't he.

"They're good, y'know, better than most cheesy romance comics. Some deals with legit sensitive topics and delve into the characters' minds with justice." Why was he making lame excuses?

She wasn't buying his nonchalant tone.

"Yeah, yeah," she waved."I know where you're going on. But it wasn't the comics that's the problem, it was you. You look like your cat's drowned."

Here it was. Moment of truth. Goodbye crush, it's nice while it lasted...waitwhat?

"Pardon me?" he asked meekly, unsure he was hearing her right.

"I was just saying that I don't have a problem with it? It's okay to like something people don't expect you to. It's just that, something you like. It doesn't define you or anything."

More laugh. Not of malice, of disapproval, just mirth.

"Besides," she smirked, grinned. "Everyone has their shares of guilty pleasures. no?"

Whoa, whoa, this wasn't going like he thought it would be.

"So," he choked out, hopeful. "You aren't going to post this on the school paper?"

...

Um.

That was supposed to be kept unsaid.

Her easy smile faded, her eyes narrowed. Damn, he was saying that out loud, wasn't he. And ouch, was that hurt on her face?

"What do you think I am? A tattletale? I have things more important to write than someone's dirty laundry... that isn't even dirty."

Her voice was low and growling and dangerous and he was f*cked. A tiny whimper left his lips and he probably flailed his hands around like some alien guy but he couldn't force even one reply out.

She looked away in disgust. "Thank you for affirming your judgment in my character, though."

She got up and went out.

The door was left ajar, swinging slowly back and forth as he slumped on the corner and gears turned in his mind to remind him that he was stupid stupid stupid.