Miguel Diaz 013

He bit his lower lip, clenching his jaw as he stared at the blackboard. The algebra teacher was talking, and around them several voices whispered. He could feel your soft skin brushing against his arm and your hand squeezing his under the table as you scribbled something in your notebook. His gaze wandered around the room, looking at the people who clearly weren't paying attention to the class, and he joined them. He was frustrated and irritated; he needed to feel you after so long. It wasn't until the bell rang that he snapped out of his trance. He just grabbed his backpack and left the annoying classroom. You remained still; he didn't even wait for you. You began to sense that he was upset with you. You had reasons to think so. He hadn't touched you in weeks, only giving you small kisses, which bothered you because he wasn't normally like that. He was always so intense and clingy. You tried to seduce him, even sending him provocative photos and messages, but it didn't work. To be honest, it frustrated you incredibly and it was hurtful. Miguel, for his part, was incredibly frustrated thinking about the last time they had physical contact. It was pure torture not being able to touch you, but he didn't want to lose his bet with his friends. You see, the guy had recently hung out with his friends and they made a ridiculously stupid bet: they couldn't touch their partners for the entire month, and the last one standing would get $200. It was a ridiculous bet, but difficult to keep given that they were incredibly hormonal and competitive. Some friends had already lost, proudly boasting about it. Only three people remained, and among those three guys was Miguel, who was truly competitive.