Rescue | Tronnor

Chapter Twelve

CONNOR
I awake to the familiar, unmistakable scent of coffee. I stretch, my back sore and my limbs shivering. My blanket, I note, had fallen to the floor during the night. I peek over the couch at the kitchen.

Troye is pouring three mugs of coffee on the counter. His eyes flick up to meet mine, and he smiles. "Morning."

There it is. His voice is huskier than usual, and his accent, which I couldn't quite put my finger on, was much more noticeable. "Morning," I groan, standing and rubbing my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Nine," Troye says, walking over to me with two of the mugs. "Zoë's in the spare room."

I take one of the mugs. "Thanks." I took a sip. "Your accent, I just now noticed it, where are you from?"

He chuckles. "I'm from South Africa, but I grew up in Australia, so my accent sounds like a mix of South African, Australian, and British."

"Oh, that's interesting. But it's really subdued. Like, I didn't notice it until now."

"My family moved to LA when I was twelve. I've lived here for seven years, so yes, my accent isn't as strong. He pauses. "I--"

"Good morning, sleeping beauties!" Zoë thumps in from the hallway, her heeled boots clicking against the floor. She sweeps up the third coffee. "I'm going to throw this little shit--" she holds up the band, twirling it around her finger, "--into a taxi. Whoever's tracking pretty boy is going to have a very fun wild goose chase."

Troye waves to her as she prances out the door.

"Did she just take my mug?"

Troye laughs, "Yes. Yes, she did."

---

Troye and I decide to watch a movie. Then two. Then three. Then the entire day turns into a Netflix field day.

"Let's watch 'Ouija' or 'Annabelle'!" I suggest as the credits of "Catching Fire" scroll down the screen.

"Okay!" Troye, who was holding the remote, searches "ouija" and selects the movie. "I already saw 'Annabelle'."

"'Kay."

...Why the fuck did I pick a horror movie?!

Thirty minutes in, I find myself clutching a pillow with white knuckles and biting my lip. At a screen that just barely resembles a jumpscare, I jump and bury my face in the pillow.

My eyes flick up for a second, and I see Troye laughing. The little fucker is laughing.

"You want to watch 'Ouija', huh?" He chuckles.

"Yeah, ha ha. Bad decisi--ah!" Another jumpscare and I find myself curled up around the pillow.

Troye's still laughing. "C'mere, you big baby."

"I'm not a baby," I pout jokingly.

Suddenly, his arm is around my shoulders and I'm held against his side. I settle my head on his shoulder. I can feel his heartbeat from such close proximity.

TROYE
In the brief scenes between jumpscares, I look over at Connor.

He looks so cute and small, cuddled up around a pillow. Lord knows he'd punch me if I said that aloud.

His messy morning hair doesn't even take away any of his good looks; it somehow just makes him look more attractive.

...wait.

Did I just say he's attractive?

Shit.

I did, didn't I?

I have no regrets!

I chuckle to myself as he flinches at another freaky thing. "Connor! Connor, the movie's over."

He peeks up from behind the pillow. "Oh. It is!" He stands up and stretches, leaving my side feeling cold from his absence. "Oh god, I hated that."

"Hey, you picked it!" I laugh. I glance at the wall clock. "Oh my god, it's already three o'clock."

Connor looks at the clock. "Oh shit." My stomach rumbles, and he giggles. "Lunch?"

"Obviously."