Devotion

eight ﾒ accidental sleepovers

ANGELICA

And it has happened again, ladies and gentlemen. I accidentally slept at this stupid guy's house once again!

Yes, it was an accident. This time, I seriously didn't mean to stay longer than intended. Unfortunately, Leilani is not here to be with me and talk a hole into my head so I can tolerate the presence of Luca.

Here I am, fucking up once again.

I'm supposed to be home getting ready for Sunday dinner and preparing for tomorrow's classes. He's throwing me off my schedule.

I need to tutor someone tomorrow, and I can't do that if Leilani wants to party all the damn time and Luca wants to invite people to his frat brothers' parties. This is getting out of hand. I can't.

Now, time to spill on how I got into this position once again. So, after Luca and Rowan were at work and decided to not have any sort of humanity, I was so devastated by the cashier's death that I needed to nap.

So since my stuff was already at Luca's and I wasn't smart like Leilani, taking my stuff with me, I was left with coming back to his very nice apartment to nap.

The nap was supposed to last an hour.

It ended up being ten hours. I fell asleep around 4 in the afternoon and found myself in the same position ten hours later, at 2 a.m. I had no other choice but to sleep the night out because I couldn't just leave.

I got lucky, though, because I slept in the guest bedroom instead of his bedroom. Although I can't lie, his bedroom was cute.

It definitely fits his personality to the T.

Luca's bedroom is mostly black. The walls are charcoal black, the TV is black (duh), and his bed and bedding are—you guessed it—black. So, yeah, it's all black. And to add to the uninterestingness, his entire apartment is an accented black.

It's like he didn't even try to spice it up with some color. Like pink, I don't know. Just something that is not boring to the human eye.

I'm sure chicks dig the entire brooding thing he's got going on, and it lures them into his bedroom. Why am I thinking about him bringing home women?

Instead of putting myself to use today, I am deciding to stay inside his guest bedroom until he's ready to take me home. I'm starting to get a little annoyed at the way I'm getting comfortable around Luca, and it's putting me off entirely.

I'm totally fine with seeing him at school or on Sundays during dinnertime, but parties and outside of the norm? Ew, I can't even.

Good thing I brought my pink iPad with me to keep me company. When in doubt, bring your iPad. I thought I was gonna use it at the party, but I ended up getting white girl wasted, so plans didn't stick out the way I wanted them to.

Then, just my freaking luck, my stomach growls. Ugh, damn it. And it's not like I can ignore the French Revolution in my stomach, so I have to get up and go into his kitchen, possibly find him in there with maybe a chick, and be sad 'cause we're in close proximity.

With his football sweater still fitted all around me, I slide off of the high bed and open the door, revealing the bare hallway.

His house doesn't feel like home. It feels like a prison.

As I meander through the thin corridors of his apartment, I enter the sleek modern kitchen to see him also in the kitchen. I couldn't help but smack my teeth at the sight. "Just my luck," I say loud enough for him to hear.

Luca glances at me as he enjoys a hearty breakfast with nothing but pajama bottoms. He swallows the food that is in his mouth. "Just your luck to find me sitting in my apartment? How strange." The hint of sarcasm was never hidden.