Amelie went unnoticed... or so she thought.
Since the first time Amelie George stepped into a school, she had been depicted as uptight and scared of everything. With a pair of distant parents and snickers behind her back, at times she believed sh...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❦ picture of Bailey x __________________________________
"ᴡᴏᴀʜ! ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ calm down before security comes up were?!" the blonde guy jumped off my bed in fright.
I staggered back against the door, "Get out of my room! Who the hell are you?!" I screamed once more and he ran at me, clasping his hand over my mouth. I tried to scream once again but it came out muffled.
"I'm trying to not get arrested." he hissed and bored his blue eyes into mine. I stopped screaming and whimpered as his grasp tightened. "Are you good now?" he asked and, slowly, I nodded.
Once he let go, I resulted back to screaming and scrambled for the door. Damn this stupid lock!
"Oh no you don't!" he chased after me. Just as I was about to turn the handle, he pinned me against the door with both my wrists clasped in on of his hands above my head.
"Get the hell off m –" he stuffed a piece of cloth in my mouth.
"He was right when he said you were difficult." Blondie mumbled under his breath. He looked down at me and cringed. "This is a more intimate position than I assumed it would be. Forgive me, Miss." Miss? Who the hell was this guy and why was he in my freaking room?!
The mini husky behind him began to jump and bark, growling at the back of his leg. "Calm down, Bailey. I'm just making sure her future Highness doesn't get us arrested over here." He pulled my wrists off against the door and to my chest, both still clasped in one of his ghostly white hands.
"Easy... easy..." he whispered as he guided me over to the bed to sit down. He plopped me down with full force and smiled contently. "Good girl."
"Mm ot un off!" I mumbled behind the piece of cloth stilled stuffed in my mouth. The man looked at me confused before releasing what was hindering my speech. He pulled out the price of cloth and I spoke again, "I said, I'm not a dog!" I huffed. He let got of my wrists and walked towards to door. He then kicked – and I mean kicked – my chest of draws across to cover it.
"Phew, that's a relief!" he mockingly wiped his brow.
I stared hardly at the man, half frightened – half pissed off. I still didn't know who the hell he was and why the hell he was in my room.
"I can see you're confused." He commented.
Confused?! Is he serious?! "Who the hell are you?!" I huffed and he held out a firm hand.
"Aziel Emrys Jethro Whitlock." He announced with a charming smile. I looked down at his hand, refusing to shake it. "Not a handshake kinda gal. Fist bump?" I stared at his fist bump. Was he insane? Oh God, what if he's an asylum escapee, or worse, a crack addict?
"Not a fist bump kinda gal either?" he stood astonished. "Are you European? Do we do kisses on the cheek?" he went to kiss my cheek and I flinched back.
