new year's day [h.s.]

Thirteen

"You don't have to be anybody you can never be

That's alright, let it out, talk to me"

SONG: "Talk to Me // Cavetown

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"Knock knock."

"Who is ittttt?"

"Your sugar daddy," I deadpan to Maya's door. "Now open up, balancing these plates is harder than it looks."

"Unless you want me to answer that door naked, let your briefs untwist themselves and give me a second," she yells back from further in the room.

"I'm sorry, were you expecting someone else?" I joke, trying to shift one of the water bottles that's pinned between my arm and my abdomen. "If you've got other plans, I'll just take these somewhe-"

Something clatters against the door, cutting me off. "Don't even think about it. That pasta is mine," Maya answers coldly. I'm mid-chuckle when she finally opens the door, still in the middle of tying her robe but with a bright smile on her face as she zeroes in on the food in my hands.

"Hello, sexy," she drawls, nearly drooling as she swipes one of the plates from me. "Oh, and hi, Mr. Styles."

I glare at her back as she turns with a laugh and we both head into her room. She bounds over to the bed, sitting carefully on the edge and placing her plate in her lap. One glance around the room shows me that there's exactly one free chair for me to sit in, because the others are all covered in her crap.

Thank God we're using the hotel we're filming at in lieu of trailers. I can only imagine how much of a bigger mess she'd have made in an even smaller space.

"Keep it up and I'll hold onto these breadsticks instead," I tease, stopping at the edge of the bed to drop one of the waters off for her. I've barely taken a step back when Maya's arm shoots out and grabs the bottom of my hoodie. Yanking me back, she swipes her breadstick plate from me.

"Mine," she growls, unable to contain a smile. "Thank you, run along now."

With that, she sends me off with a swift kick to the ass.

Literally.

I scurry over to the chair, covering my rear with my now-free hand as we both laugh. Setting my plate in my lap, I go to chug some of my water when someone decides to start eating a little too enthusiastically. I watch on as Maya breaks off part of a breadstick, dips it in the pasta sauce, then uses it alongside her fork to shovel a few pieces of penne into her mouth. I'm mid-gulp when she moans, "oh, fuck," and I can't stop some of the water from being spat back up.

Maya finds this funny, giggling as I dab the now-damp spots on my joggers with a napkin. Her amusement doesn't last long though, because she never quite swallowed her food. It's my turn to cackle when she clutches her throat, violently coughing to stop herself from choking.