Hi! I'm Charz.
This is my first Skins fic, so be nice.
Yeah, these characters are kind of gone now, and yeah, the plotline of this fic's a bit stupid, but honestly, if all those things matter to you, go away. You must be an 89 year old politician or something.
Okay, read.
Please review, but please don't flame. I thought I could take them, but I got flamed in another story (under a different name… my alter ego, shall we say) and I didn't take it well. Okay I didn't kill anyone but it disheartened me a little.
Okay, I'll shut up now, read:
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Chris and Jal's mishap in Art class
Same old Monday, same old art class… different scenario. Usually in Art I sit next to Michelle but today Chris (the hottest thing since melted cheese) has to switch places with her because he talked too much in his old seat
Oh fuck he's coming over now, and I've gone red. He smiles at me as he sits, making my knees turn to jelly. Now he's looking at me oddly. Why? Oh, I've been staring at him for about a million years. Now Mr. Gellar (a/n Sorry I'm watching Friends and couldn't think of a name :p) is shouting.
'Settle! I'm just going to the staff room, but I'm not telling you when I'm going to return. When I do I expect complete silence. That means you Chris.'
As soon as he leaves Chris rolls his eyes and starts talking to Sid, in front of us. I start painting energetically to distract myself. I dip the brush into the paint pot a little too enthusiastically and accidentally splatter Chris' cheek with green paint. He turns towards me, one eyebrow raised, a naughty smile on his face. He dips his brush in some blue paint and flicks it towards me. Paint lands on my forehead. Way more than what I got on him.
I flick some more at him and… shi! It's landed on Maxxie on the other side of him.
I expect him to be angry but he stands up and yells 'Paint fight!'
Paint flies everywhere. In my hair, on my clothes. Chris is loving it, playing class clown, stealing a roller from Mr. Gellars desk and attacking randoms with it. He sees me staring again and starts to come over, the roller dripping with paint. There's an evil (but hot) look on his face. I don't move as a) I want to look cool (ha!) and b) I can't actually feel my legs. He stands about a metre in front of me.
'I think I owe you something,' he says. He reaches out and runs the roller down my face.
Fantastic. I am now purple.
I snatch the roller off him, my skin tingling where it grazes his hand. He's so fit… I don't know what comes over me but I reach out and run the roller down his face. He looks at me for a minute, almost in disbelief, before grabbing me in both hands and kissing me. I return it immediately. He's such a good kisser.
WE stay kissing for at least ten minutes, not breaking apart once. Of course it was a little messy, with all the paint, but I could have stayed there forever. But Mr. Gellar comes in, totally ruining it. He yells 'Chris! Jal! Get out of my classroom!'
Chris and I try to part but we can't. We actually physically can't. The paint on our faces has dried. Our faces are stuck together.
The class bursts out laughing as we try to get round the desks and out of the classroom without knocking anything over (unsuccessfully, I might add).
When we're finally out of there we make our way to Matrons office. Thankfully the corridors are empty, otherwise someone would have gotten hurt (namely us).
Chris knock on the door. When she opens it she lets out this cry of horror. She's the type of lady who thinks that two people have to be married before they kiss. Hmmm… Mrs Jal Miles, wife of wealthy inventor Chris Miles, who invented downloadable clothes, everlasting kittens and instant chocolate. Sounds good to me!
'Come in,' Matron says. 'You're lucky I've just made coffee.'
Coffee?! Sure I could go for a cup but my face is currently stuck to another persons face at the moment, so maybe later, you old bag.
Then I realise what she's on about.
She gets her old fashioned kettle and pours and dabs the warm water on our faces, softening the paint so we can part.
Straight away I rush to the sink and start to scrub off the paint, using Matrons horrible hypo-allergenic soap stuff, while Chris desperately tries to explain to her how we ended up in that… predicament.
Awkward…
Okay, we both got in serious trouble but that didn't matter. It was the best kiss ever!!
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Remember, reviews are cool. Flames are not.
Geddit? Flames are not, because cool means cold, and a flame is made of fire, so… Ah screw it.
You take me for a right James Blunt, don't you?
Say what you want.
Lower colons.
Charz
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