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ZARA

Each step closer I get to my room, I hear someone aggressively writing and flipping through pages.
Who the fuck is in my room?

I grip the knob of the heavy door, pushing it open with all my might to see Aiden seated on my bed with a huge grin on his face, a grin that shows his sharp, chiseled jaw so well. He can cut about anything with that jaw of his.

I look down to notice he's holding something, but the sheets of my bed are blocking my view.

He's smiling at the certain thing he's holding and pretending like I'm not in this room when I made my presence quite obvious.

I start pacing towards him. "What are you do-"
WHAT?
"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BOOK!!" I yell furiously as he puts my book up in the air, which I struggle to reach.

Oh no....
Oh no, no no.
He's holding Fifty Shades Of Grey.

"Aiden... read any other book but that one, please..."
"Are you begging?" He teases with the corners of his full lips rising. "because love, I think it's too late now." He continues as I see he's towards the ending of the book.

This is so fucking embarrassing.

Wait- is that?
Is that a pen in his hand?
A pen that's touching MY book?
Is he writing in my book?

"Give it back!" I scream once again, reaching for the book before getting on the bed with him.

Oh- that doesn't sound right. I'm just going on the bed to get my book, I swear.

"I didn't know you had these thoughts, Zara." He flashes his teeth at me.

The more he talks the more infuriated I get, so I put in more and more effort, but it's like he extends his arm a foot longer the closer I get to reaching the book.

I adjust myself but he mumbles a groan. "Off."
"Off what?" I look at him in confusion.
"Off me." He demands, throwing the book onto my bed then furiously walking away.

He was just laughing and joking around a second and now he's walking out the room like a toddler for no reason at all.

Men say women are complicated when all along men are the most childish, confusing people on this planet.

I quietly grab the book from the bed, placing it back into my bookshelf with the same confused look on my face.
What's up with him?

I followed his previous steps into his room, knocking on the door.

After a couple seconds I push the door open and my gaze shifts to his perfect face... almost perfect. Well, maybe his face is perfect.

I opened my mouth to say anything to him but even the most basic vocabulary couldn't escape me.

A piece of his hair fell, brushing over his dark, frustrated eyes. He rakes his hand through his hair while looking up at me, his eyes lightening up a bit.

I stared at lining of his dilated pupils wondering why I feel so different around him today.
Actually, I've felt different around him for a while now, but I'm not sure what I'm feeling.

I wanted to study his face more but he broke eye contact to look down.
To look down at my lips.

He wasn't that far from me.
His door is pretty close to his bed so we were 5 feet apart at most.

My heartbeat started quickening and I was becoming desperate to break the tension.

Finally, words floated to the surface and interrupted the strong silence in the room.

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