So…a couple people asked for a ficlet about the tags I left here….
Oliver bolts upright after reading the text.
Connor looks up at him with a quizzical look, still slouched down in the couch, holding a handful of popcorn in midair.
“What’s up?” he asks, slowly bringing the popcorn to his mouth. Everything had been fine two seconds ago, quiet night in watching a movie, then Oliver’s phone buzzed and he shot up like a light. Now Oliver was chewing his thumbnail and staring at his phone.
“My mom texted,” Oliver says.
“Okay.” Connor waits a beat but Oliver just keeps staring at his phone. “What’d she say?”
“She wants a picture.” Oliver’s response is short and curt.
Connor waits another beat before prompting again. “A picture of—?”
“You!” Oliver practically shouts. He turns the phone around and shoves it down in Connor’s face. “She wants a picture of you.”
Published
lanablack 