Divergent souls || 2

Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN ⇆ ANGELINA
"No." I dismiss for the hundred's time, "I wasn't asking for permission." Rowan shoots right back and i glare at him, his grin widens.

"You're not coming with me, conversation over." I hold a finger in his face and he eyes it nonchalantly, before curling two of his fingers over mine and slowly pulling it down, rubbing my whole hand in a soothing motion.

I snatch it out of his hold after a beat, "It's some kind of an event for new models, to meet with retired ones so that we can take some experience, what exactly will you do there?" I snarl.

"Let's see." He starts and side steps me, eyes flitting to the mess on the bed, I'm currently packing my stuff so it's obviously messy I don't know why it's weird for him.

"Did you see the comments on your last post?" It was a week ago, when we went for his father's company event, I didn't exactly scroll through the comments since I didn't have time.

"I'll save you the time, they're obsessed with me." He starts, smiling arrogantly, "And it's understandable." He shrugs, lifting a shoulder as he turns to look at me.

I narrow my eyes, "So?" I offer dryly as if I didn't understand what he's hinting on, he raises a brow, "So you'll gain their attention if you're with me at the said event, of course it's gonna be documented, No?" He has a point that I'm not going to admit and he knows it.

I huff out a breath in defeat, knowing that he won't give up on this, ignoring him as I continue placing a couple more pajamas on the bed, utterly confused on which one to take since we're staying for two days.

"The red one." He offers from his place and I slowly turn back to look at him, narrow my eyes in a glare, then make a point of taking the other pajama, it's childish, but at the moment, I'm fucking pissed off.

He rolls his eyes but a teasing smile finds its way across his lips as always, "It reminds me of that one night when you wore it for me." He's clearly joking, but it doesn't lessen my glare.

"In your dreams?" I offer through gritted teeth,
"My dreams?" He smiles wider, arching a brow and his eyes sparkle with something I can't indicate, "I'm in your dreams? I know I'm beautiful but you can stop drooling." I protest lightly.

His grin widens even further, and it looks genuine, as if he's amused by all of this, "There's definitely someone drooling over here but it's certainly not me." He shoots right back, it's unlike him, but I'd be lying if I said that it isn't both entertaining and annoying.

"You're delusional." I repeat what I say on daily basis to him, "Am I?" He rambles on and i roll my eyes, just when I think that this conversation he adds something else. "Don't be shy, Lina, I can tell." He adds.

I embrace myself with a harsh breath to calm down, then step closer to him, victory fills his features as if that was his goal, the urge to step backwards spikes but I push it away, "Can tell what?" I force out.

His index and thumb pull my chin upward so that I'm looking into his eyes, his features shine beneath the sunlight, a reminder of how fucking stunning the asshole is, he could walk around models and fit in effortlessly.

With the high cheekbones, full lips, and sharp jaw, but most importantly, his low set eyebrows and eyes, those fucking eyes that I sometimes ache to poke out from how annoying he is or just stare at them, utterly mesmerized, the thought itself is extremely ridiculous.

"You want me." He rasps under his breath and i glare, my muscles tense, "I don't." I reply after a beat, to make the lie convincing, the corner of his lips lift, "Don't be ashamed, Angel, it's mutual." He rambles on and heat courses through my body.

"It's not, but your attempts at hiding your feelings toward me are subpar which explains it." I offer, not exactly knowing what I'm saying, raising an eyebrow to make it convincing, he rubs my chin with his thumb, hums under his breath, "Maybe that's because I never attempted to hide them, no?" He points out, fucking Christ, "Touché." I give up.

Triumph fills his features, "You look beautiful when you're defeated, Babe." His thumb rises, caressing my cheek instead, the gesture so subtle and soft yet it makes my breath stops midway before I regain my senses.

"Don't babe me." I insist, "Angel it is." He shrugs nonchalantly. I don't like either nicknames, or maybe I don't like that I like them, I really cannot decide at the fucking moment and it's extremely frustrating.

"The flight is in two hours." I intercept, not liking the turn this conversation is taking, he doesn't look bothered, "Better get ready then." He raises an eyebrow, and i eye his black backpack that's laid on the floor.

I'm officially stuck with Rowan, and there's no way out.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

We landed in Florida thirty minutes ago, the plane ride was quiet, we were both tired from waking up early and slept through it, even though Rowan did watch me a lot, he slept some time.

"The fact that we can meet Elias and Aurelia here is a bit strange." He offers as we step inside the hotel, since Florida is where they're both staying at the moment, it's possible.

We can even meet up if we want, but I need to get over with this goddam bag dangling over my arm first, "Why don't you be a gentleman and take this from me?" I suggest as I glare at him, he grimaces, then does so as he snatches it.

Effortlessly actually.

We slowly walk toward the receptionist, she smiles welcomingly and I offer all what she asks for, beats pass before she gives me the room key, I clutch it and give her a smile too.

Then we both start walking up the stairs, to the number of the said room, unfortunately, the asshole will stay with me, but it's a two bed room so that won't be a problem.

"That's the one." He points out and we pause abruptly, eyes flitting to the door, sure enough, I slip the key and it clicks, before we slowly get inside it, placing both bags on the floor.

"This bathtub looks luxurious." Rowan says as he slips inside the bathroom, i roll my eyes and abandon my place as I start walking toward the living room and the bedroom, it's a suit, so it's huge actually.

A couch, vanity, and a tv stand in the room, "Lina." Rowan calls out from where he is and I approach him, confusion filling my body at the tone he's using, seconds pass before I'm standing inches away from him.

"What's wron...?" The word trails off as I notice exactly what's wrong, realization dooms over me, and I grit my teeth, "There must be a mistake." I insist, he turns, a smug smirk stretched.

"It's fate at this point." He says then returns to look at the bed in front of us, One bed.

I'd be lying if I said that it didn't sound like fucking fate as he just mentioned.

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