Marked Up.

Chäpter Föur: Clubbing

I love sleep.

I love it so very much, so when you wake me up before I want to be woken up, I'm not responsible to all the damage that will happen to you. So when my brother decided to wake me up at seven in the morning, he might of gotten clocked in the face, and a kick in the stomach. Again don't fuck with me and my sleep. Man I needed to stop swearing, I hung out with Cleo and drew too much, I mean usually I would say things like gosh darnit, they were corrupting my sweet innocence. But there were things that even they couldn't take, nor anyone else. Maybe Cleo could.

I've been up for like 15 hours, and though I hated being woke up, I took that time to binge watch gossip girl. Chuck Bass & Blair Waldorf were honest relationship goals. He really loved her, and would do anything for her, even if it hurt him. That's a powerful kind of love. I had just finished watching an episode when my bedroom door slams open.

"Are you ready to go dancing?" Cleo squeals.

Stepping in like she owned the place.

Waltzing into my room I see her wearing a tight short dress that stops about two inches below her ass with high stiletto heels.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Cleo yells eyeing my outfit.

"What" I pout.

Looking down at my outfit I don't see anything wrong with skinny jeans and a t-shirt, I mean it was a dance club not some fancy restaurant.

"Yeah sorry you aren't wearing that, just let me figure it out."

Cleo giggles, making her way further into my tidy room. Her heels not making a noise against my white carpet, before she's walking into my walk in closet, mumbling to herself. I watch her from my bed, smiling softly as she picks out clothes that she believes will look good on me. And then she's coming out into my room throwing a under if clothes at me, telling me to wash my hair. I roll my eyes before complying knowing how she gets when she wants me to do something. Her tickle wars were never finished until she has you on the verge of peeing your pants.

Crazy little butthole.

After I get out of the shower, I wrap my hair up in my towel, shimming into skin tight leather  high waisted Jeans, and a white halter crop top. I push my white high tops on before coming out into my room. Cleo is sitting on my bed texting someone on her phone when she looks up, her violet eyes take in my outfit with a small appreciative smirk.

"Now you're ready! Just lemme do your make up"

"Fine" I grumble.

Before sitting down on the bed, running my fingers through my hair, before she's coming towards me with the pencil of death. Yes eyeliner was hell and I hated when she put it on my face. Besides I'm pretty sure it was originally a torture device used in the medieval ages.

"Stop making that face, I promise I'm not going to poke you in the eye, now just relax."

I groan once again before trying to go still as a statue following her soft commands as she made up my face. The gentle movements of her hands, and the warm breaths against my skin has me relaxing further, so when she's fine I simply throw my hair up into half up half down hairdo and we're on our way to the club.

• • •
[Andrew pov]

By the time I get into Mr.Blacks classroom my stomach is still hurting, I shouldn't have tried to be good brother by waking little sis up. I mean sure it was early but did she really have to lunch me?

I was wheezing when I felt warm hands circle my waist and I was pushed into a chest. The warm scent that accompanied the body was that of mint and fresh new leaves. I cough a little before pushing some hair out of my face to see that daemon was indeed the one holding me. He looks worried and can't seem to stop frowning.