Part 8

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Life is full of surprises, but finding Van sprawled on his back in your flowerbed at nearly midnight, clutching your prize rose bush, is one that you never dreamed you would have to face

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Life is full of surprises, but finding Van sprawled on his back in your flowerbed at nearly midnight, clutching your prize rose bush, is one that you never dreamed you would have to face.

You'd been so close to kissing Tom, your lips just millimetres apart, a hair's breadth to be more precise, when you'd heard the most almighty cacophony erupt from right outside your window. You'd jumped practically a foot into the air, a shocked squeal escaping you as you'd pushed away from Tom, ignoring his cries of "Wait Y/N" and "Hold up, you don't know who the hell's out there!"

But you did... that's just the thing. Tom was likely imagining some crazed burglar trying to brazenly gain entry into your house, but you knew better. Much as you'd tried to assure yourself that Van would never dream up an elaborate ruse to interrupt your alone time with Tom, you really shouldn't have underestimated him. You should have known it would be just like him to pull some childish, petty prank to put a spanner in the works of your tentative flirtations with a potential new boyfriend. He just couldn't stand it, he couldn't stand the thought of you inviting Tom inside and over-looking him. He was probably fully expecting that you wouldn't be able to resist him.

"Van! What the fuck? What the hell are you doing?"

The words tear from your throat like a wail at the sight of him lying there, hands still attached claw-like to the wooden trellis which had been fixed, rather firmly by all accounts, to the wall by your kitchen window. There's no way it could be wrenched completely free unless he'd applied a fair amount of force... or his full body weight... if he'd been climbing it. And there was only one possible explanation why he'd want to do that. A quick glance up at your kitchen window and the bright light peeking through from a gaping opening in the slats of your blinds makes it seem all too obvious. He'd been spying on you. The sneaky fucker had been spying on you. There was no other explanation.

"I... err.. I lost my key... I thought I'd dropped it but I can't find it anywhere. Don't suppose I could come in, eh?"

His hesitant voice is a lot quieter than normal with none of his usual cockiness shining through. He looks between you and Tom, a sheepish grin surfacing as he raises his head, gingerly pushing the trellis aside as he tries to hoist himself upwards. Tom immediately steps forward, offering Van a hand and pulling him up easily on to his feet.

"Bloody hell mate, you went down with a right crash!" Tom chuckles as Van fidgets where he stands, brushing leaves and twigs and soil off his clothing. "Wondered what the hell it was. Thought someone was tryin' to break in or something. Gave us a right fright!"

"Yeah well... gave myself one too," Van murmurs in reply. "I'm completely sober as well!"

He cracks an awkward grin at Tom and then his eyes swivel to you and it wavers. You suppose the infuriated look on your face is to blame but you can't help it. You're actually seething, the more you think about him skulking around out here in the dark peering through your window, the more worked up you're getting. There's no way you're letting him get away with this. No way at all. You'll make him own up to his sneaky misdemeanours one way or another.

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