His Disney Girl | ✓

26 | ❝and you've been nice, for the first time in forever.❞

          when raylee woke up the next day, she took her insulin and immediately went to the shower. today, she was feeling a lot better than what she did yesterday. it was her first time in a plane and she had never been more scared. but thanks to the drunk rich lady, she managed to think of something else than crashing into the ground and burning alive.

          "good morning," she had said to lewis when she walked down to the kitchen after getting lost only once. he had already given her a tour of the lewis leclercq household, but raylee was aware of her bad memory. she narrowed her eyes when she saw his state. he was wearing reading glasses and drinking coffee and at the same time, rubbing his temples. it was obvious that he had been drinking. probably why he wasn't wearing contacts.

          glasses suited him.

          "good morning, raylee. how did you sleep?" he asked, taking his glasses off. he looked terrible, but managed to give her a small smile. she silently sighed at his accent.

          she sat down beside him and stared at him. "i think the real question is, how did you sleep?"

          his lips tugged upwards. "i've felt worse."

          "yeah, i don't doubt that. you okay?" she worriedly asked.

          he put his reading glasses back on his eyes and waved it away as if it wasn't much of an issue. standing up, he reported, "i'll just make some breakfast. thought i should wait on you or something."

           raylee rolled her eyes. he didn't look like he was in the state of making any breakfast, so she decided it was time she put herself into use. "that's nice of you, but please sit down, lewis. you look horrible. i'll make the breakfast."

          he turned around and looked at her through the glasses. after studying her determined expression for some seconds, he sighed. lewis had known her long enough to know she wasn't going to budge anytime soon.

          sitting himself back in the chair, he drank up his coffee in silence. by that time, raylee had almost managed to scramble up two fried eggs. it wasn't hard to find out where everything laid. it was a simple kitchen.

          "here you go." she beamed proudly, giving him his plate. thanking her, he continued to eat in silence. it was a comfortable silence, but it felt lonely. raylee was used to her mother's constant talking.

          because of the complete silence, it was easier for her to jump up from her seat once lewis said he was finished with his meal. he looked amused at her. "the interview is on live tv today this evening. i hope you have something to wear?"

          when he was met with silence, he understood that she hadn't packed for this and smiled slightly. "it's okay. we'll just buy something in manhatten. i'll ask my driver to come."

         "lewis?" she quietly adressed, gaining his attention from his phone which he had fished out from his pocket.

          "yes, raylee?"

           "i'm not filthy rich. manhatten is a rich place. at least gossip girl makes it out that way."

          "that's okay." he shrugged. "i have more than enough money."

          raylee shaked her head, and sighed. "no. you don't understand. i don't enjoy spending your money. you've already bought me a plane ticket. first class, if i may add. and you've been nice, for the first time in forever. so please, don't take me to manhatten. i want to afford my own clothes."

         lewis arched his eyebrow upwards, and started to trace his finger on her hand. "ma cherié. i know you want to buy your own clothes." he continued  to trace his finger up her arm, making her take a sharp intake of breath. "but what i'll buy you, won't cost much to me." he was whispering now. lewis traced his finger from her shoulder and onto her collarbone. "i don't mind buying anything for you."

          "okay."

          "so you agree on letting me buy you clothes for this evening?"

          "uh . . . sure."

         he took his finger away and gave her a satisfied smile. "excellent."

          still dazed, she stared after him as he walked out of the kitchen, whistling to bruce springsteen.

          as if on cue, she pulled herself together and was now glaring at thin air. had he managed to manipulate her so easily? what the fuck? what the actual flying fuck?

          "lord give me patience . . . or an untraceable handgun."

         she wasn't even religious.