Title: Red Hearts From The Store

Author: Ever Essence

Chapter: 2 - You're Cute.

Disclaimer: None of the characters used in this belongs to me, I own only the plot.

Enjoy!

A quick thanks to all who commented.

totalnarutofangirl85: I imagine them to be 15-16. That's year 10 over here in England. I am not sure what grade that is in America. The schooling system over there is massively different. *sweatdrop*

LolliDictator: Yes I did. I also wrote it in present tense, then altered that too. That is why it was full of mistakes. *facepalm* I'll try not to make them again! :)

Toris huffed angrily. No, furiously. Stupid seating plan. Stupid Ludwig for selecting the stupid seating plan. Stupid new teacher supporting stupid Ludwig's choice of stupid seating plan. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It had been a full week since that oh-so fateful day in which he met the blonde bombshell that was Feliks. Since then, he had become more and more frustrated, tired and stressed. His friends, Eduard and Ravais, had definitely noticed it. ("Toris, are you alright?" "Yeah, you look really bad. Are you sleeping well?") Actually, everyone had noticed it. Even the sadist Russian teen who liked Toris so much it hurt. Literally.

The teen had grabbed Toris in between Science and History and asked him if he was okay.

"Y-yes, Ivan. I am f-f-fine." The Lithuanian boy had responded, careful not to stutter too much.

"Ah. That is good. Then you will come round mine after school, da?" Toris sweatdropped. Ivan's smile was sweet, but his tone was condescending, threatening, terrifying. Toris, unable to refuse, merely nodded blankly. And when the Russian boy walked away, the brunette immediately sighed. This was all Feliks' fault!

And that was why Toris was angry. Very angry indeed. And Toris rarely got angry. Irritated, yes. But hardly ever angry. It surprised Feliks greatly when the Lithuanian boy stormed into Maths, and sat down at their table with tight fists and a thin pink line for a mouth and furrowed eyebrows. It was very, very odd to see Toris like this. Feliks simply flipped his hair and examined his nails – blood red with white tips – whilst Toris repeatedly hit his head against the desk.

But after a while, hearing the rhythmic "thunk-thunk-thunk" got irritating, and Feliks pouted his glossy lips. "Toris, you'll give yourself a headache doing that. And it'll bruise, which will look totally ugly! And that, like, destroys brain cells, you know."

Toris did stop. But only to throw a scowl at the Polish teen. Who did not notice it. He resumed hitting his head against the desk. "Oh God, Toris, stop!" Oh sure. He notices that!

But then their dopey teacher entered. And there was no hope in hell that Toris could initiate a verbal war. Not that he would anyway. He was terrible at them. So instead he turned to focus on the teacher who was currently writing some long and horribly complex problem onto the whiteboard. This day was not getting any better. But when Toris looked around, everyone was working. Even Feliks – even though his work was messy, and not much thought was being put into it. Toris sighed, again, and picked up his pencil.

Toris was not bad at maths. He was actually quite good at it. He had Estonia to thank for that – the computer geek had been keen to tutor his friend, and now as a result, Toris was rather good with numbers. And yet, he could not figure the answer out. Why? Because that damn Pole would not stop humming. It was driving poor Toris insane. The brunette bit his bottom lip.

It was not even that complex an equation. Toris would normally be able to complete it with ease. But no. Because Feliks would not shut up. And the more he pondered over how one boy, albeit a questionable one, could be so annoying, the more distracted he got. And soon, the work was completely forgotton.

"Hey, Toris, quit staring."

He spluttered, blushed and dropped his pencil at that. But, the oblivious teacher was... well, oblivious, and Toris thanked God, Jesus, Mary and who-ever else was up there that he had gotten away with that. It would have been extremely embarrassing to have to explain why he'd suddenly turned scarlet.

"I was not staring!"

"Oh, Toris, you're, like, so cute!" Facepalm.

Toris watched at the blonde gir- boy. Boy, boy, boy. Feliks was a he. He watched as... Feliks gushed, and flipped his hair. The blonde's jaw working furiously on the piece of gum in his mouth. He was partially distracted by the the pink glitter on Feliks eyelids, and also by the way his glossy lips seems to reflect every sourse of light in the room. How much gloss did he put on? And his red-and-white nails were drumming gently on the table, and Toris was shocked at the long, slender fingers. Yes, Feliks was the epitome of masculinity.

And then Toris actually figured out that the Pole had called him cute.

"I... I am not cute!"

"Toris, you so are!"

"I... I'm not... shut up!"

"Whatever you say, Toris!" Feliks giggled, a totally manly smirk on his face. And by totally manly, Toris meant so-feminine-it-should-be-illegal.

Toris just bit his lip, as the bubbly blonde returned to his work, jumping slightly when the his knee accidently brushed the side of the Polish boys thigh. Key word: accidently. Not on purpose. Right? But Feliks either did not mind, or did not notice, for he didn't move at all.

At least it was quiet again. Toris picked up his pencil, and turned to stare at the paper infront of him. Then... Feliks started humming again. Toris groaned, and suppressed the urge to smack the Pole upside the head. He stuffed hid face into his hands, only to jab himself in the eye with a pencil. All the while cursing about "damn Pole, so annoying, all the damn time'.

And from the corner of his eye, he could swear he saw Feliks smile at this.