Chapter 11 - You Don't Want Respect

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As I posted on my profile, for the time being I'll be uploading weekly on Fridays. Life is just very busy right now and I don't have the time edit all my chapters to get them ready twice a week. I also don't want to rush the editing process because I've already spent a year and a half on this story, I want it to be perfect ❤️

Thank you for your understanding!

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Don't forget to vote and comment 💛

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Don't forget to vote and comment 💛

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Hairdryers.

I just don't understand why they have to be so loud.

When inventing the gadget, didn't Mr. HairDryer think to himself - what is poor Izzy going to do when she has to dry her soppy wet hair at 7am while a dangerous looking Latino is fast asleep in her bed?

Because every time I even made a sound I was scared he would wake up and throttle me for disturbing him so early in the morning.

I got out of the bed at 6:30am and I had to move around so carefully and quietly. I had take my shower in silence instead of having music playing and I did as much of my morning routine in the bathroom so I didn't wake him up with my racket.

But I drew a line at drying my hair in the bathroom. There was no way I was going to get hair all over the bathroom floor and then have to pick them all up later. It was gross and bad for my back.

That's why Mr. Bed invented beds, so Izzy could dry her hair over the bed where the fallen hair is easier to pick up.

So there I was on a Monday morning standing at the side of my bed with my hairdryer in hand, watching Roman sleep peacefully in the silent room.

It reminded me of a scene in a movie where the sleeping guy is about to get killed by someone standing next to his bed with a gun. The only difference was that it was me with my hair dryer watching him sleep so peacefully as if he had no care in the world.

Tough shit for him.

As soon as I switched the hairdryer on I'm sure I saw him stir from the corner of my eye, but I was too busy trying to dry my wet hair.

It was all going well, actually. I really thought maybe he was a heavy sleeper or he just didn't mind my noise-making. Maybe he even understood that I had to dry my hair so that I didn't turn into Frizzy Izzy later in the day. I really thought it could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

That was until the hairdryer suddenly stopped working.

With a frown I looked at the machine in my hand, switching the buttons on and off in confusion. When it didn't turn back on, my eyes followed the cable until I saw Roman's tattooed hand holding the plug which should have been in the wall.

"Hey! You unplugged it."

"Of course I unplugged it. What the hell is wrong with you? It's 7am Isadora."

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