Maverick had just landed an opportunity of a lifetime to hook up with his favourite romance author, only to find out that he doesn't believe in happily ever afters.
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'It's a simple ending,' Maverick shrugge...
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I woke up to the strangest noise.
slrrrrpppp slrrrrppp slrrrpppp
It took me a while to distinguish the real world noise from my supposed dream and I opened my eyes to stare at the unfamiliar ceiling. It took another few moments to recount last night and where I was and for a split second, wondered if it had been merely my vivid imagination. I turned towards the source of the noise and the view immediately dispelled any doubts about last night being a dream.
Riley sat on the floor in front of me, leaning against the couch kept opposite to the one where I had fallen asleep on. He had a book open in one hand and a straw protruded from his lips and into the juice box in his hand. Which, from the excessively annoying slurping noises was now empty, but he seemed too indulged in the book to notice as he sucked devoutly on the straw.
He finally seemed to realize I was awake and stopping slurping to look at me. "Morning, Paul."
I was too drowsy to take offence to his words and instead decided to take a different approach. "Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?"
"You look cute while your asleep," he said nonchalantly, going back to drinking on the pitifully empty juice box. I took a moment to catch my breath at the way the sunlight streaming in through the high windows lit up his face. His dark hair was messy around his head, and yet surprisingly elegant. His lips, which had looked dark last night in the club, now looked a delicate shade of pink. His eyes were irises like remnants from cinders of an inferno.
"Ew," I said, my cheeks burning and hoping I hadn't been slobbering or mumbling in my sleep. "That's fucking creepy. Are you Edward Cullen or something?"
He stopped sipping again, his eyes fixed on the book open in front of him as he answered drily, "I do enjoy the taste of blood."
I rolled my eyes and got to a seating position, rubbing my eyes as blood rushed to my head as the sudden movement. I was aware of his eyes fixed on me as he inadvertently started sipping the juice again.
slrrrrrp slrrrrp lrrrp
I wasn't sure what it was that annoyed me so, but I lashed out. "It's empty for fuck sake."
I had never been a morning person, but the fact that he was giving the juice box the third degree and in the process creating an unholy ruckus was extremely irritating to me.
"Oh," he said, sounding genuinely surprised as he placed the long dead juice box on the table and shut the book, staring at me. It was then that I realised how he looked different in tabloids than he was now. He seemed to have lost some weight, throwing his features into even more prominence than before.
I sighed. "I'm sorry for lashing out like that," I apologized quickly as I massaged my temple. "I'm not really a morning person."
"That's okay," he said, nodding. "I'm barely even a person."
