They are all innocent until proven guilty. Not me though, am a liar until proven honest and me being proven honest doesn't change anything either. I was a liar, I am a liar and I'll always remain a liar because it was me who invited him. I am THE sl...
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I follow Roman up the staircase to the second floor. His room is at the end of the hall, and from the sheer size of it and the private bath, it must be the master bedroom. But I guess every room in this house is a master bedroom.
As soon as we enter his room, he walks to his study desk, takes a frame that is sitting on it, and quickly shoves it inside the drawer before I can look at it and then flops on the edge of his monstrous bed and leans back on his elbows.
I look around his room and notice his study desk under the window with a chair. There's an armchair in the corner of the room which looks really comfortable.
His things are incredibly neat and tidy. The total opposite of my room.
His bed is neatly made, and there's a shelf of trophies by the door organized by size.
And then it's me, I'm lucky if I can find a matching pair of socks in the morning.
My gaze goes to the two guitars that are hanging on the wall, opposite his bed. I quickly recognize the one he played when he apologized to me.
Taking a few steps towards it, I trace its body with my fingers and then strum a chord, aware of the sheer intensity of Roman's gaze on me the whole time.
"I never saw you playing guitar in school ever," I say as I turn around and meet his gaze.
His eyes are hooded and his husky voice wraps around me like a safety blanket as he replies, "Because no one knows I can play guitar."
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise and I can't help but probe further, "So you have never played guitar for someone else before?"
"Never, before you." He replies with sincerity shining in his eyes.
I nod but keep quiet as my heart soars after hearing his honest yet sincere reply.
I quietly walk towards the bed and sit next to him, careful enough to put some distance between us, and finally approach the one subject I've been wanting to talk about the whole night.
"So, uh, I wanted to apologize for the other day," I say, as I look down and pick up the imaginary lint from my frock.
"Which day?" I hear him ask.
"That day when we baked the cake. I know I shouldn't have pried like that. It was wrong of me." I say quietly, still not quite meeting his eyes.
"Will you look at me?" He asks in such a tender voice which automatically makes me look up as I finally meet his eyes.
"Apology accepted." He smiles and my lips twitch.
"Thank you," I say gratefully. "I've been meaning to apologize to you this whole week, I just never got the chance."
"So that's why you kept looking at me every two minutes in school?" He asks as he raises an eyebrow, looking thoroughly amused.
