Twenty Seven Tasks (On Hold)

Chapter Eleven

"What have I done?"

Owen grunts, flipping through a newspaper he miraculously pulled from who-knows-where. I run my hands nervously through my hair, wetting my chapped lips.

"I don't understand!"

Owen groans, flipping another page. I sigh as my heart pumps, slamming my notebook down.

"Why aren't you helping me!"

Owen finally looks up from his black and white paper, his eyes holding no emotion.

"It's not important."

I gasp, holding my chest for the dramatic affect. I narrow my eyes, pointing a finger at the tip of his nose.

"Take it back."

Owen raises a brow, a smirk tugging at the left side of his plump lips.

"No."

I jump so hard from my chair it flies across the floor. I flinch at the scraping noise as I crawl over the table, nearly falling into Owen's lap in the process.

"I'll make you!" Without hesitation I jump off the table, Owen's glass of water following.

I hurry to the couch, grabbing the fluffy white pillow that probably cost as much as my outfit in total. I giggle, hopping over the back of the couch and sprinting towards Owen.

He slowly lifts his nose from the crease of his paper, his eyes widening as they land on me. I swing my pillow like a bat, swatting the side of his head. A cloud of air and feathers leave the side of the pillow, floating to the ground.

Owen gently folds the paper in two as he rests it on the table. He turns his eyes towards me, alight with mischief and amusement. I squeal like a stuck pig, as Owen jerks the pillow from my childish grip. He throws it over his head and wraps his arms around my waist.

"Wait—no! Owen! Please!"

My feet are lifted off the ground as I'm slung onto the couch. I gulp as Owen straddles my waist, his hands like claws. Owen smiles evilly as he lowers his hands into the crease of my sides, my giggles bubbling into my throat.

"I'm sorry! Please! Don't! I'm begging you!"

I let out an earsplitting scream as Owen begins to tickle my sides. I punch and kick to get out from under of Owen as he continues his tickling.

"This is for the water being dumped on my head on the plane!"

I scream over Owen's shouting as a loud banging sounds on the door.

"Room service!"

Me and Owen stiffen, as my screams die down to nothing. I meet Owen's gaze as he hurriedly shuffles off of me. A blush tints his cheeks as he takes the furtherest seat across from me. I snicker, my sides tingling from the affect of his fingers. Heat rushes through me as I stumble towards the door.

"We didn't order room—"

My jaw falls as Théo grins widely. "Not even a hello?"

Loud footsteps sound against the tiled floor behind me as Owen's chest presses against my back. Théo's eyes shift towards the figure behind me, his smile faltering.

"Hello, Owen."

I practically feel him bristle behind me as he moves to close the door. I stop it with my foot, cringing at the pain.

"Come in."

I step back, pushing Owen with me. Théo comes in—making himself at home—and throws his body onto the couch. I flush as I remember me and Owen laying there only seconds ago.