imogenbeaumont

[imogenbeaumont]

jake.

— A KNOWING GRIN TUGGED ITS WAY ACROSS HIS FEATURES. Call him a masochist, but there was something about Imogen Beaumont that kept pulling him in; be it how whip smart she was and how quick she was to tear him a new one or how easy it was to get under her skin, Jake couldn’t quite decide. “I’m a damn delight, what can I say.” He leaned back lazily in the chair he had claimed his own across from her in the student union, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles beneath the table. The darker haired girl before him had no idea just how patient he could be. 

He laughed at her following oh-so-scathing comment, the smile lingering on his lips as he watched her. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but as she remained for a beat longer, hand messing with the strap of her bag, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she didn’t want to leave. Grin spread wider, eyes sparking when she finally spoke again. “At least buy me dinner before you take me home, Beaumont,” Jake quipped, shifting until he was leaning forward on his forearms, hazel eyes meeting her gaze as he looked over at her. “Time?”

— IMOGEN MERELY ROLLED HER EYES IN RESPONSE, of which was something that the brunette had been doing a lot during the course of their conversation. But- truthfully, she just couldn’t help herself. There was an addictive nature about the boy in front of her, and she suspected that he knew it, too. Cleverly hidden behind layers and layers of playful ignorance and flirting his afternoons away, was a personality that Imo might have cared for. “I think most people agree that you’re a nuisance to be around, but hey,” she shrugged, “whatever helps you sleep at night.”

She huffed upon hearing his laughter, arms already crossing in front of her, “Don’t laugh at me, Jake.” Imogen frowned, her bottom lip dramatically jutting out into a pout, though she paused for a moment at his next utterance. “What? Oh, you’re insufferable,” the brunette exclaimed loudly, fingers grasping the strap of her backpack as she moved to ( loosely ) swing it in his general direction. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she protested afterwards, though the attempt was futile as the tips of her ears had already started to burn bright red. “I meant to watch movies with me. The one time I’m nice to you and you imply that I want to sleep with you,” her voice dropped lower as she mumbled the last part, shaking her head. “Now you can sit on the floor and I’ll have my bed all to myself.” 

[imogenbeaumont]

“HOW DOES ANYBODY TOLERATE BEING AROUND YOU?” Imogen questioned, her eyebrow raised in faux annoyance. Though the man before her      an oh-so typical frat boy notorious for his stupid pick-up lines and his stupid comments on twitter by the name of Jake Kisamore       was, by definition, a 6′1″ collection of everything that she disliked, the brunette found had found herself not hating him, or the time they spent together, on more than one occasion. In fact, in between her daily destruction of whatever illogical claim he’d recently made and resisting his futile attempts to flirt with her        the nerve of this guy, right?       she was even starting to, well, appreciate his presence, to say the least.

When Jake was seemingly not at all offended or bothered by her latest utterance, she crossed her arms, “You’re dumb.” Way to stay classy, Imogen. Moved to readjust the strap of her backpack, her dark hues finally met his own. And if her breath caught in her throat at the casual smile he was giving her, who would have guessed? “Do you want to come over later?” Imo blurted out suddenly, a look of shock and embarrassment already transforming her features as she realized what she said. “I mean, um. Not that I want you to, or anything. I just- well, um. Forget I asked.”

[imogenbeaumont]

though aristotle typically didn’t like to classify himself as the grump or buzzkill friend, and could normally sit through a party without too many complaints ( the more alcohol he gets, the quieter he’ll be ) but this was definitely an exception. he had only one drink thus far, which was definitely a factor in his attitude, and the only person he really knew had been separated by the wall of drunken, dancing students. you’d think that having joined a fraternity, especially one as, well, eager as theirs, the brunet would’ve gotten used to the party scene by now. truthfully, he wanted to enjoy himself, wanted to have a normal college experience like the rest of the damn student’s wasting their parent’s money, but he never found himself able to let loose and party like his counterparts. so, he supposed that it was only a blessing in disguise that more than one person he’d been pining over was a definite enthusiast of clubbing and all things alike.

 a mere foot tap was offered in time to the music’s bass, the cheap red solo cup in his hand filled with an unidentifiable liquid, one that burned the back of his throat upon drinking. the sigh that he heaved was a clear indicator that he was, much to popular belief, not enjoying himself in the slightest. “there you are,” he all but groaned, eyes widening as he saw the very person he’d spent the last twenty minutes scanning the crowd for. “this sucks, kait. parties are the worst.” 

the lighting may be dim, but the rest of kait’s senses were on overload. the scents of various liquors( and spilled nat light ) blending with the stench of weed from the open sliding doors in the side of the house all but physically assaulted her. sounds drifted together into a dull roar, dissonant cheers meeting with hoots from another room and the music crackling through speakers, blending into a symphony of thrilled party-goers, though they were slightly muffled to the brunette. she was used to alpha sig parties — after two years at penn state it wasn’t as if she was a stranger to these gatherings. hell, she lived for them, really. consider them her weekly reprieve from endless studying and feeling as though she would implode from stress.

hips swayed loosely to the beat from her spot within the congregation of dancing students, one hand running through brunette curls while the other held onto the can in her hand. eyes scanned shortly over the crowd before her, looking for the familiar face of the one she had dragged out with her. with the liquor ( and three too many four lokos ) burning through her, it was amazing she could even recall where they had gone.