This isn't your common bad boy story.
This bad boy doesn't drive a motorcycle, he isn't rich, he doesn't have tattoos, or risks lung cancer by smoking, and he doesn't love the good girl.
He smashed into her life when he tried to rob her.
She smashed...
Rolling onto my stomach, I bump into a thick mass. Blinking awake, I find my bed more crowded than usual. Gasping at the guy from last night, I fall over the edge of my bed, I get knitted up in my plain curtains separating my makeshift bedroom from my studio apart, and crash into the cold floor. Hard.
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"Ow..." I whimper, rubbing my sore elbows. A pillow flies at my red head, sending me toppling onto the floor all over again.
"It's too early to make noise." The guy groans. Looking over my bed, I find him in a messy heap minus the tampons and a shirt. When did we fall asleep? And when did he strip? And more importantly when did we move from the couch to my bed? Watching him stretch out across my bed I start to wonder who he is. What kind of life does he have to make him corner me after closing?
Hugging the thrown pillow to my chest I realize I'm still in my uniform from last night, dirty apron and all.
What should I do next? Should I wake him up? Should I let him sleep in? Should I kick him out?
"Stop staring at me." He grumbles, making my heart stop in my chest for the briefest of seconds. What am I suppose to do in this situation?
"S...sorry..." I manage, staring down at the floor. There's no way I can fall back asleep now. There's no way I'm even climbing back into bed. As quietly as I can manage, I tip toe out my room, only to wonder why I'm tip toeing in my own apartment.
Should I kick him out? The most important question gets buried under a ton of other questions. Can he still see? What's his name? What if he lost his eyesight over night? Is that even possible? Do I have time to google delayed pepper spray blindness? What time is it anyway? Oh god, what time is it?!
My head almost breaks off my neck with a sharp twist towards my clock. It's six already, I am suppose to open the bakery for the breakfast rush in twenty minutes! I have mere minutes to catch my bus.
I rush into my tiny bathroom, hurriedly prying off my clothes to make every second count. I hop into the still cold shower, but I have no time to coward into the corner and wait for the hot water to turn on. My teeth chatter like loud tap shoes the entire duration of my cold shower.
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