The Vixen (College Life #2)

Strawberry croissants can bond even the worst of enemies

Danny's P.O.V-

"The bottoms will do just fine, Mr. Vall."

He waves me off, "No, you may only be going to bed, but you should look nice doing it. What if you get stabbed in your sleep and the cops come and take photos and you're wearing a ratty shirt and striped pajama bottoms."

"I- I never thought about it like that, I'll take the matching set." At least if I die tonight, I'll look good dead. "Thank you, Mr. Vall." I go to walk out the door, but he stops me.

"Wait a minute, Danny, I need to talk to you." He says, sitting back in his recliner chair that's in front of his bedroom window. It's pitch-dark outside, the yellow lamp cast shadows across the room. I watch as he cuts up some cheese and puts it on a cracker. He wore the same pajamas I have in my hand.

I turn, "Yes." 

"I've heard that you've been helping my granddaughter with her classes and I appreciate you for that." 

"It's nothing." 

"No, it isn't. I don't think I've seen her this happy since she met you. She rants on the phone with Alex, her grandmother, about you. Mostly talking about your bad fashion choices, which I can see, but besides that, you've been a good presence in her life." The only thing I heard about that statement is that Vatica rants on the phone to her grandmother about me. Besides my "lack of fashion" I wonder what else they talk about.

"As I said, it's no problem. Thank you for the pajamas, I should be getting to the room. Goodnight, Mr. Vall." 

"Goodnight, Danny." I leave out the room, going into the hallway bathroom, and changing into the red satin pajamas. God, I hope the sheets aren't satin or I'll be sliding all over the place tonight. I take the clothes I had on, wrap them up and take them to the room where I'll be sleeping with Vatica.

Sleeping with Vatica. 

Never thought the words "sleeping" and "Vatica" would be in the same sentence. 

Pushing open the door, I'm hit with a view of Vatica laying on the white, fluffy comforter. Wearing her grandmother's long lavender nightgown, eating a tray of strawberry croissants as she watches the TV in front of her. Dark hair cascaded down her back, making her look like an innocent maiden from a 14th-century portrait. Her eyes connect with mine when she sees me and immediately puts the tray of food behind her on the bed.

"There's none left." 

I scoff, "I just saw you put the tray behind your back."

"No, you didn't." 

"You're just going to flat out lie right in front of my face?"

"Lie about what?" She seriously has powdered sugar on her lips and chipmunk cheeks from stuffing her mouth. If I wasn't so shocked about her lie, I would think she was cute.

I chuckle under my breath, leaving my jeans and shirt on the flower chair that sits against the wall nearest the window. The room was nice and quaint. A large poster bed is in the middle of the room, and four pillars are attached. Two large windows are on either side of it. In front of the bed was a white chest drawer and a TV right above it. I can see a door creaking open next to it, which lets me know that's the bathroom. 

"What side do you want?" I asked her, being the gentleman that she said I was to her grandmother.

"The right side."

I groan, "I sleep on the right side, just take the left."

"No! I sleep more comfortable sleeping on the right, it's near the bathroom and faces the wall and I don't like light in my vision when I sleep."