𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 (on hold)

| 𝟏𝟏 |

My head was pounding so hard I was convinced my skull was going to crack. Light filtered through my shitty apartment curtains and I squeezed my eyes shut, groaning in pain.

I covered half of my eyes with a hand as I glanced around my room. There was a glass of water and some paracetamol and ibuprofen on the side table.

I popped out some paracetamols and swallowed them down, leaving the ibuprofens on the side. I cursed at my empty stomach, knowing I'd have to get up and eat something before I could take anything else.

I laid in bed for another twenty minutes, begging my throbbing head to calm down for a moment. When it finally stopped being as painful, I rolled myself out of bed. I was just in last nights bra and panties, and I slipped out of those and threw on a tank top and joggers.

I headed for the kitchen, but when I stepped through the doorway, I almost passed out. Clutching my chest, I stumbled back a few paces— almost tripping over the raised lip into the kitchen,
"Shit! You scared me."

Matthias looked up from his newspaper,
"Sorry."

I blinked, trying to remember any details about the previous night. It was all a blur, but I remembered good sex and being very drunk,
"What are you doing here?"

He looked back down at his newspaper. He was so calm, it almost angered me. There was no real expression in him. A neutral face, neutral tone and neutral body language,
"It would have been irresponsible to leave you here by yourself in the state you were in."

Everything he did had to have a reason. He sounded like a fucking machine— deciding on statistics and logics before he made a decision. I laughed bitterly,
"Alright, Mr Robot."

He finally looked back up at me,
"I thought it was Mr SuperSpy."

"Well now you're acting like a robot, so it's changed."

His newspaper must have been incredibly interesting, as he looked straight back down at it again,
"Mhm."

I glared at the top of his head, hoping that it would burn enough that maybe he'd actually look at me. He didn't, instead he continued speaking without even glancing at me,

"Would you like some toast?"

I narrowed my eyes,
"This is my-"

"Cereal, maybe?"

"I'm in my own-"

"A drink? Coffee? Orange juice? Wa-"

"Matthias."

He finally looked up at my little shout,
"Yes, Juniper?"

I stared at him, not willing to break. I did though, after barely ten seconds,
"Fine. I'll have some toast."

I sat down at the table as a victorious smile graced his lips. He had nice looking lips. Soft. Kissable.

"Good."

I huffed, not particularly wanting to look at him,
"You know, if someone found you here they'd probably arrest me too."

"Uh-huh. And then you can claim I kidnapped you, or something."

I ignored him and his stupid logic, just watching his body move around the room. He seemed almost at home in my tiny kitchen. I wasn't sure how he knew where everything was, but he didn't ask me about anything as he made my toast.

He must have seen my confused look, as he grinned,
"It's my incredible SuperSpy deduction skills."

"Of course it is."