Prank War

Chapter Fourteen - Bonding

Hello all my lovely little minions, this is one of my favourite chappies up to date so I really hope you enjoy it! A lot of Nat-Morgan bonding time! Lmao XD I think the song on the side fits the chappy really well, especially the first part ;) Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Me thinks me needs a fan to cool down after all that SEXAY!!! XD Don't forget to vote, comment, like, spray whipped cream down your shirts, squirt choc sauce down your crushes pants, JUST 'CAUSE YOU CAN! ... Wow, my authors notes have really turned a new dirty little corner haven't they? Ah well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.  Peace ma homies! ('Cause I'm cool like that! Not.) XD

Chapter Fourteen - Bonding

“FIRE!”

I bolted upright with a loud snort. The first thing I noticed was I was covered in a lovely layer of sweat. I kicked my covers off me, uncomfortably hot. Why had I woken up? Something had startled me...

“FIRE!” came another scream.

I moved so fast I fell out of the bed. I scrambled upright, rubbing my now sore ass before running over to my door, yanking it open and lurching to a stop in my doorway when I was attacked by smoke. Holy crap! The house is on fire! What was I supposed to do? Stop, drop and roll. NO! That was if you were on fire! Think Nat! Crawl, you crawl! I dropped to my stomach and peered out into darkness.

“MORGAN!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “MORGAN!”

“FIRE!” was his response. I rolled my eyes.

“I HEARD THAT THE FIRST TIME YOU DIPSTICK! WHERE?”

“EVERYWHERE!”

“WHERE ARE YOU?” I waited a good minute for a response. The only sound I could hear was my own rapidly beating heart. Instead of screaming again I crawled down the hall and managed to scramble my way down the stairs, cringing every time a step collided with my ribs or hips. I made it onto the floor at the base of the stairs and still hadn’t seen a flame in sight, so I curved to the left and crawled through the open door. I looked up, coming face to face with Morgan holding a video camera.

“Whatchya doin Nat?” he asked innocently, grinning.

“Huh?” I asked, not getting where this was going. “Where the hell is the fire?” I demanded, pushing myself up.

“What fire?” he asked, doing his best to look confused but still smirking.

“You jerk!” I cried out when my brain finally put two and two together. “YOU JERK!” I screamed, stamping my foot on the floor in frustration. He just laughed, which only angered me more. “Where the hell did the smoke come from?”

“Smoke bomb,” he replied happily, still holding the camera.

“Would you put that thing away! I’m in my pyjamas!” I shouted at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Really? I would’ve guessed underwear,” he said as the camera made a buzzing noise and he moved it slowly down the length of my body before up again, just like his eyes. I tugged on the legs of my shorts, wishing they were longer.

“Shuddup and put it away!” I ordered, not that he obeyed, he was worse than an animal. “Why the hell is it so hot in here?” I asked, realising I wasn’t the only one sweating. Morgan was standing before me in nothing but a pair of black, satin boxer shorts, his bare chest shining off the light.

“I put the heating on, duh.”

I rolled my eyes and stormed back into the hall, going to the little box on the wall and turning off the heat before stalking back upstairs, waving my hands in front of my face to try and clear the smoke. I pulled open the last window at the end of the hall and choked as all of the smoke flew out of it, hitting me on the way. I left it open just a crack to make sure it all cleared out and then went into my room, grabbing the thin, navy blue, satin dressing robe I never wore and tying it securely around me. I paced back down the stairs, the dressing gown flying out behind me. I burst into the kitchen and grabbed everything I could find, including the cherry syrup he’d so kindly added earlier, a can of whipped cream, and the bottle of chocolate topping dad had stashed right at the back. I spun around and low and behold he stood before me. Perfect, it meant I wouldn’t have to clean cherry syrup off the couches. He arched a dark eyebrow at me, looking down at what was in his hands before back up at me.