How to save a Bad Boy✔️

11: Help him find his Biological Parents

I cracked my eyes open and groaned when I realized it was already morning.

What the fuck was on my face? And why did I feel so heavy?

My hand flew up to my face and I groaned in disgust.

Ew, drool.

Wait. . .I didn't drool.

"Mason," I shrieked, finally realizing what was happening.

We had somehow managed to tangle our legs and our bodies were pressed together. His arms were lazily wrapped around my body. To my dismay, a pool of his drool had started to form on my cheek.

Mason hummed, but didn't open his eyes.

"Let go of me," I snarled and tried to pry myself away from him."

"Fuck off," he groaned and pulled me even closer.

Huh, the bad boy likes to cuddle. Who would have known?

"I will rip your dick off if you don't let me go."

I heard light snoring and I rolled my eyes.

"Fucking piece of shit boy—" I froze as I felt something poke my thigh once I had started to shift around.

"Oh, fuck no, this is not happening again— M-MASON!"

"What?" He questioned, his face had turned into an ugly scowl, but his eyes were still shut.

"W-what is that," I stammered and made no move.

I seriously had some ugly experiences with his dick.

"Calm down, it has nothing to do with you, it's just my morning wood," he murmured and finally let me go, turning his body away from me.

"Someone's knocking," I mumbled suddenly as I heard the series of knocks coming from the door.

"Mason," I repeated when he didn't answer, "someone's knocking."

"Go open it then," he replied grumpily and rolled over again, shielding his face from the sun with his arm.

"I can't, your foster parents might see me," I contorted, hoping he'd just get up and open the door.

No such luck.

"They're at work," he groaned, "so go open the door and leave me alone."

"Michelle might see me then."

There was a small pause and a sigh from Mason. "She's not here either."

Where was she? It was a Saturday.

I made a sound in between a groan and a shriek and stood up angrily, not bothering to poke him on the subject.

I had never been much of a morning person- and apparently, neither was Mason.

I stormed my way to the door and opened it. There was a man on the other side, he looked around 40. His head was balding and his glasses were too big for his face.

He smiled and looked at the paper he had on his hand. "I'm looking for Mason Hunter," he said and handed me a picture.

Staring back at me was a little boy with the same golden eyes Mason had. Except the boy in the picture looked a lot happier than Mason.

"Yeah, can you hold on for a bit?" I mumbled groggily and walked back to Mason's room.

He had fallen asleep again.

"Mason, some guy is looking for you," I said, shaking him a bit.

Mason opened his eyes and glared, but stood up nonetheless, mumbling profanities under his breath.