#ec23

Your Flirty Self (Emre Can Imagine) (X)

“You didn’t notice the waiter, whose eyes were about the size of frisbees, completely gaping at you?” Emre spat irritably at you as he paced in the direction perpendicular to you.

“No,” you conceded, as you raised your voice to match his amplitude, “Because to be honest, Emre, I wasn’t looking at him. I was looking at you.”

“Well isn’t that just fucking convenient,” he retorted. “You know, I took you out with my teammates tonight, hoping to show them one of the most important people in my life right now, and your flirty self ruined it,” Emre added while running a hand through his hair.

You felt heat begin to resonate from within your cheeks as your forbearance was beginning to run thin. “You know what, Emre, you’re right. Even though I coldly rejected the waiter’s advances and informed him that I had already had a boyfriend, it was my “flirty self,” that brought him onto me. You cracked the code! I now know that my “flirty self” is the reason behind every bit of harassment I get. God, what would I do without you intellect?” you sarcastically protested. His brown eyes shot daggers into your gaze, as he turned his back to you and began to walk out of the bedroom, angrily slamming the door behind him. You flopped onto the bed, holding back tears, and took out one of your favorite books as you heard the sound of undercurrent TV advertisements in the living room. An hour later, and several tear smudged chapters after your argument, you heard the door creak slightly as the six foot figure waited cautiously by the entrance.

“Y/n,” he stammered, “Can we, um, talk?” He suggested running a hand through his charcoal hair. The brown depths of his eyes, desperately trying to lock onto your gaze, expressed remorse, as he hastily walked over and climbed in bed with you.

“Are you sure you really want to talk,” you croaked trying to withhold tears from pouring out of your eyes, “or is it just my flirty self putting a spell on you?”

“There it is,” he taunted, brushing your hair to one side and kissing your neck, “that’s my unmistakingly tenacious girl.” Gradually, he wrapped one arm around your waist, as he used the other to trace circles on the delicate skin of your back. “Babe,” he began, “It was wrong of me to ensue that the asshole’s advances were your fault.” “Maybe I’m a little insecure,” he whispered guiltily while glancing down towards the sheets of the bed.

“Emre, I just don’t get it,” you rationed as you advanced closer to him, leaving inches between your face in his.“Don’t you trust me?” you interjected hoarsely, “What did I do completely shatter your faith in me?”

Emre pursed the pink flesh of his lips together and conceded, “It was, um, nothing you did, it’s just- I’ve been cheated on before, twice actually,” he coldly added with a half hearted laugh. “So, I guess I have some trust issues.”

You stared at him, wondering to yourself, who in their right mind would cheat on a guy like Emre. He was everything you had ever wanted from a boyfriend in life. He was compassionate, kind-hearted, devilishly sexy, and always supportive of you. Biting your lip, you ran you fingers through his hair causing a small grin to form upon his beautiful face. “I love you, Emre,” you avowed while seductively wrapping your legs around his waist. “But if you ever unfairly blame me again,”

“Which I won’t,” Emre interrupted, smirking at you, while his hands began to roam provocatively towards your lower back.

“You’ll really have to face the wrath of my flirty self,” you finished, pressing your lips against his as you felt the sharp edge of his teeth nip possessively on your lower lip.