Playing With Fire

CHAPTER X (10)

CHAPTER X
Christian

   Even without mascara, her lashes are so dark.

   That's the first thing I noticed as Lonnie slept next to me, her hands tucked underneath her head. I couldn't help but tilt my head to the side, studying how her chest softly rose, or how her curly hair sprawled out on her pillow. Some strands were covering her face, and I had to stop myself from reaching out to tuck them away.

   Titanic was still playing, and by the looks of it, we were only two hours in. Although, she fell asleep way before the ship hit the ice burg. I was tempted to wake her up because the only reason I'm watching this movie is because of her, but I didn't have the heart to.

   I'm just tired. I've been studying all week, and it doesn't help that my manager gave me two morning shifts. And how annoying it's been, dealing with Jon's mood swings.

   Fuck her brother. Her boss, too.

   Her laptop was sitting between us, preventing our bodies from touching. Although, I knew nothing good would come from me being that close to her.

   A low grunt came from her, and I watched as her face contorted into a grimace in her sleep. I acted reflexively, laying my hand on top of her head. My fingers started brushing the hair that had been mocking me this entire time, and I felt myself unwinding from the tension I'd been holding.

   Flashes of when we were twelve, when her dad died, came back to me. I remembered how it had been when I comforted her after school. Jon had an anxiety attack in class and got picked up by their mom, so I walked her home, only to find out that her mom took him for ice cream. She'd broken down, and I held her head, brushing her hair away from her face.

   "It's okay, Lonnie. Everything's okay. I'm here."

   Her sobs disappeared minutes later, and when she slowly moved her head away from my now drenched shirt, I didn't miss how green her eyes looked, despite them supposedly being hazel.

   And then Jon came back, and we never spoke about what happened again.

   I didn't realize I'd been frowning until I felt the muscles around my mouth being pulled.

   The sound of someone knocking on her bedroom door returned all the tension I'd lost. I glanced up to confirm the door was locked, and even though it was, that didn't loosen the pressure building in my shoulders.

   After a few seconds of silence, I figured whoever knocked on the door gave up. But the relief I felt was short lived when the doorknob started wiggling vigorously, followed by a fist pounding on the door. I was about to get out of the bed and fucking hurl the guy when the hits stopped, only to be replaced by the sound of a key slipping into the lock.

   Who the fuck has a key to her bedroom?

   My question was answered barely a second later, when the door creaked open, only to reveal the person I loved to hate. Jonothan Cohen.

   The moment his head slipped through the doorway, his eyes met mine and darkened several degrees before his face twisted in rage. I only smirked before lowering myself closer to his sister.

   "What—" he began, almost shouting, but I cut him off when I brought a finger to my lips with a smirk.

   I didn't try to hide my excitement, and I didn't need to look in the mirror to know how bright my eyes were. Jon was clearly rattled, and it was so much better knowing that I was doing it to him.