Playing With Fire | 18+

2|Never in my life

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•••

He set the world around him on fire
And made sure no flame touched her

•••

"Ameena."

Even in her comatose-like sleeping state, Ameena was still conscious of the voice that sliced through her dreamy haze.

"Ameena... gonna be... late."

There it was again, rolling over with a groan she dismissed it, burying her face into the warm comfort of her pillows.

"Ameena you have about fifteen seconds to get up before I empty this jug on you."

Ameena thought nothing of it, only muttering a half-assed muffled 'let me sleep' to whatever accursed human being which dared to disturb her sleep.

There was long stretched out silence before:

"Okay, can't say I didn't warn you though."

She heard it before she felt it, the tinkering of ice swimming in whatever container that held it then said ice and liquid splashing onto her comforter taking only seconds to drip through the cotton and soaking onto her clothes and skin.

With a yelp, Ameena shot up and out of the bed in seconds only to slip on whatever was on the floor and faceplant onto the tiled floor.

Ameena groaned loudly, the scent of baby oil filling her nostrils instantly.

She heard the sound of laughter, similar to the merged sound of a cat choking and a seal.

Her eyes snapped to the source, there he was, bent over, hands on his knees and a large jug hanging loosely in his hand as he guffawed struggling to pause for air.

"Fûck you Ron," she started dryly, pushing her self up only to slip again, this time landing on the wet backside if her pyjamas. She glared at Ron, "No seriously, Fûck you."

• • •

With narrowed eyes, she begrudgingly bit into the buttered toast he made her, fighting the urge to raise her brows at how perfectly he toasted it.

Ron sat before her on the other side of the kitchen island, pursing his lips as if holding in another round of laughter.

"How the fûck did you even get in here?"

He waved a key between his two fingers before her face, coughing out a breath of laughter before lifting his mug to his lips muffling it.

"I'm really starting to regret giving you my spare, you know that right," she gave him a pointed look to which he responded with feigned innocence.

"Just call me your human alarm clock, another hour in that bed and you could've been late for your shift," he grinned, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes.

She knew that was a fact after checking the time, another hour and she wouldn't have the time to 'glow up' as people put it, before stepping onto the busy streets.

She grudgingly had to admit he was right. But not out loud because that would only make it look as if she had made his little prank slide.

"Really though? Dousing me in ice water and putting baby oil on the floor? Not cool," she went to stuff the rest of the toast in her mouth.