Unusual Circumstances

Chapter 10

Okay, before I tell you what's going on, please in the name of Brendan Urie do not disembowel me.

I was walking back home from school (as one does), when I was, quite literally, swept off my feet.

A pair of very strong, very large hands wrapped their lovely selves around my waist, causing me to shriek in surprised horror.

I turned around and started punching my attacker, growing frantic by the second - so I didn't stop.

Nope.

I just kept punching, and punching, and punching, until a winded voice wheezed out, "Are you shitting me? Stop punching me, dumbass!"

I gasped, and stepped back.

Ronan was there, bent over, protecting his stomach with one hand and face with the other. How did the a annoying little insert preferred word manage to look good while still in pain? Ugh.

Hey, that seems like my favourite word. And it isn't even a word. Ha.

He looked up, and I finally saw his eyes - they were a cloudy grey, which had been hidden from me beforehand.

I rolled my eyes, "Seriously Ronan? You can't expect a girl to not freak out of you grab her waist." I crossed my arms and gave him 'the glare'.

You see, the glare is kind of a skill handed down through female members of my family for generations. It supposedly is one of the worlds most dangerous weapons, and has left bigger men than Ronan peeing their oh-so-not-manly pants. However, it must only be used on males, as it would be a sin to use it against a fellow sister.

Although, if Ronan is anything to go by, my glare needs sone work if I want to compete with my mum, or (lord ever forbid) my granny.

He chuckles, and stretches back to his normal height, "Trust me darling," he drawls out, "my grabbing has left many girls freaking out as you put it - much to my pleasure."

I crinkle my nose. Ew. And, may I add, illegal.

Well, not at his age but, you know. Damn those two years!

He smirks, sauntering towards me. "None quite as violently as you, though."

I smile sweetly, and size up the competition.

Hot face? Check. That'll make him arrogant, but me a little weak of resolve. Hmm.
Hot body? Er, yeah? But even the hottest of us have insecurities, as long as I'm not mean - just playful. Note to self: never bully, just banter which is fun for both sides.
Brains? Well, who knows.

I decide that, since he is a teenage boy, his whoremones are his weakness in this new found game.

I grin, as if I know something he doesn't; the game has begun.

Walking over, I put my hand on his chest, "Yes, but I'm a bit special, aren't I?"

He just rolls his eyes and ruffles my hair.

Damn. He didn't take the bait and he touched my hair. It might be this way because of him, but he doesn't have a free touch pass.

Which only applies to hair.

"Alex, Alex, Alex..." He crooned, wrapping an arm around my waist. Well, alright then. "If you want to play with the big boys," he grins, "let's play."

Oh, lord.

What have I gotten myself into?

And that, my dear friends, is how I ended up sitting across from Ronan at his kitchen table, sipping a mug of sweet, if slightly milky, tea.

He leaned across.

"Well, say something."

I shook my head.

He sighed, running a hand through his already model-messy hair. "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this."

I slammed the mug down.

"Big deal?" I all but screamed, "Ronan, you want me, a girl who you have tormented for years and, if you have forgotten is two years younger than you, to sign a bit of paper - a dangerous bit of paper, might I add."

The piece of paper reads:

By signing this contract, Alexandra Marlin and Ronan Blake agree to put up with each other's sorry asses.

The two pitiful souls must pretend to be in a romantic relationship, but sexual contact within this contract is firmly unadvised.

"Sexual contact?" I ask. "Ronan, I'm fourteen. And this is stupid." I turn to leave.

He puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me back onto the seat. "Just finish reading it, okay?"

I nod, and continue.

The subjects may 'date' as they would a normal, non-contracted being, but no feelings are involved. Unless Ronan Blake says they can. Because he is god. And a sexy beast.

I snort, "You can really tell who wrote this."

He just shrugged. "Wouldn't want to lie. Now close your mouth and read."

Any form of non-sexual 'affection' may be shown, as long as the subjects do not negatively impact the others life. Because Alex is one crazy bitch who would kill Ronan for the buzz of it.

"True, true," I murmur.

If, both agree to this contract, they agree to follow it with the coolness of a frozen cucumber.

A frozen cucumber?

"Well," I say, "It could be worse."

He nods. "Exactly. It's a very open contract, you can take it as you will."

Huh.

Wait...

"But I like someone!" I blurt out.

He raises a (non plucked but seemingly decent) eyebrow. "Really?"

Okay, little hurt at him being sceptical.
I just nodded.

"I feel sorry for the guy."

What!?

"I mean, you could have your way with him if you wanted to, and he'd be none the wiser. Poor sod, left at your mercy."

Well, that was unexpected.

"But," he continues, "he hasn't made a move yet. Maybe this could push him forward...?"

With that in mind, I take a pen out of my blazer and sign.