25 Days With Mr. Arrogant - A Harry Styles fanfiction

CHAPTER 2:

“Alex.”

God, no.

“Alex…”

Go away.

“Alex!”

“What?” I managed to mumble, turning over and blinking wearily into the face of my roommate. She stood there over me, eyes lined heavily and lips slicked with her usual peach lip gloss, a mug of hot coffee gripped between her manicured fingers. I glanced behind her and squinted to better view the clock resting on my shelf. “What the hell, Paige? It’s seven thirty.” I turned over, pulling the blanket over my head.

“I know, but –“

“Nothing,” I snapped from under the blanket. “But nothing. It’s Saturday. Let me sleep in peace, please.”

Paige sighed and I heard her sip from her mug. “Someone is here.”

I paused a moment, then peeked at her from under the blanket. “…What?”

“Yeah,” She nodded, taking another delicate sip. “A guy, he’s here to see you.”

“What are you talking about?” I groaned softly. “It’s seven fucking thirty.”

“He’s got your wallet or something,” She shrugged. A slow smile grazed her lips, “And he’s pretty hot.”

“My wallet?” I repeated, pulling the blanket from over my head. “You said my wallet?’

“Mm,” She nodded, turning to walk towards the door. “And he’s sitting in the other room, he wants to talk to you.”

“Wait..” I threw the blanket off, swinging my legs over the side of the bed quickly. “Wait a sec…”

She glanced at me over her shoulder, her blonde hair gleaming in the dim light that the sun cast through the blinds of my window. She scoffed and made a face, sipping from her mug slowly. “You might want to comb your hair or something,” She suggested. “Like I said, the guy’s gorgeous.”

“I don’t care,” I snapped, standing up and stretching. I had no issue with my usual sleep attire – an old high school shirt that had faded lettering etched across it and a pair of baggy, shorts.

“You should…” She warned, opening the door with a soft creak. “Anyway, I’m going to go talk to him some more. Try to make yourself presentable, would you? The boy is gorgeous”

I rolled my eyes as the door shut softly behind her. Paige was so different from me; I’d met her in a creative writing class my first semester of college. She was the typical “perfect” girl – always wore the nicest clothes that showed off her slim, tanned body and always had makeup defining her pretty features. She took pride in her appearance. I did, too. Sometimes.

I glanced at myself in the mirror and inwardly groaned. My eyes were slightly bloodshot – I’d forgotten to take my contacts out so they were dry, and makeup from the night before was smudged under the creases. My hair was a tangled, frizzy mess, and I reached up to run a hand roughly through the strands, wincing as my fingers caught in the snarls. Sighing, I let my hand drop. Whatever.

When I walked out into the living room, I could hear Paige’s laughter bubbling through the air. Oh, yes, this one must have been attractive to her because I could hear her working her charm on this guy. I didn’t care what he looked like, to be honest, because all I was concerned with was the fact that my wallet would be back in my possession – safe and sound. It had only been three days and I’d cancelled my credit card, but my wallet was given to me from my parents when they’d traveled to Italy. They’d picked it up in some vintage shop, and it was this extremely adorable thing with undeniable charm. Paige had called it ratty when I’d showed it to her, and I suppose it was a bit ratty when compared to her one hundred dollar Coach clutch.