luck for the night - rl.

10. the remington i know would never wear trousers.

I was too nervous to wait for a reply, so I closed the conversation and went back into the video call with Mel.

"What did you make me do!" I hissed at my best friend. I pushed the cigarette butt onto a plate I used as an ashtray and lit another one, just to calm my nerves.

A mysterious smile played on Mel's lips. "You won't regret it, babe."

"I already am!"

"You won't when you're talking to him, and when you find out he's your true love!" My best friend sounded hopeful and playful at the same time.

"You know I don't do relationships," I sighed, but then I saw a notification on the top of my screen and my heart started to race. "He replied, what do I do? What do I do?"

"Calm down, just open it!"

I took a deep breath, opening the message. It was a picture as well. Remington in yet another hotel room, in front of a mirror. He was wearing black trousers this time, and my Slytherin shirt. Despite the bags under his eyes and his hair being a mess, he looked too attractive to be messaging someone like me.

Thanks for the shirt (i'll take good care of it)

Without talking to Mel, I started typing a response.

Who are you and what did you to Remington? The Remington I know would never wear trousers

He replied immediately.

Luckily there are a lot of things you don't know about me yet ;)

A real teen girl giggle left my lips.

"Rylin, hello?" I suddenly heard my best friend's voice again. "What the hell is going on?"

I read the conversation to her.

"I told you so!" She said as I clicked back into the video call. Triumph reigned on her face.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"And now you say 'thank you, Mel'."

I grinned. "Thank you, Mel."

"My work here is done," my best friend said, "I'll leave you to it."

We said a short goodbye before hanging up. I was too invested in my conversation with Remington, anyways. I slowly started getting ready for bed, having to be back at the studio at 10 the next morning. I wasn't too fast, though. My phone screen kept lighting up with texts from a dark-haired, way too attractive young man.

I finally made it to my bed, which suddenly seemed very large, cold, and had loads of blanket space, after sharing a bed with Remington last night. I put my phone on flight mode, knowing I would keep checking it, otherwise. My lights were off, my alarm was on, and my brain was ready for its eight hours of rest.

But right as I closed my eyes, ready to drift off to dreamland, I got stung with an icy sharp realisation.

It was before midnight, and I had texted Remington, and he had replied, and we had had a fun conversation. Luck, I had had too much luck today.

I knew I should have been happy, but the only thing I could think was that I did not deserve this. I did not deserve the fun conversation we had, it was too much. I did not deserve my one rule in life to be broken like this, I did not want my one rule in life to be broken like this.

But I knew, somewhere in my insides, that my luck theory was starting to fracture. And that scared the shit out of me.

***

The smell of lemongrass ginger tea slowly entered my nose. I leaned against the countertop, looking at the colour spreading from the teabag into the hot water in my mug. A night of good sleep had been wonderful, but waking up had been so sudden that my brain needed some time to reboot.