Switched (Switched: 1) (FINISHED)

14 - Smirking

Skye

"What..." I said, trailing off as I stepped out from my bathroom.

Sebastian—of course—was sitting on my bed, smirking like always as he flipped through the pages of my notebook.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, heading straight for him and snatching the book back.

He gazed up, brows arched. "Rude."

"No, what's rude is that you keep breaching my privacy like it's some... sport!" I yelled back. "Now... why are you here?"

He smiled then. "You let me sleep with you last night."

I stilled for a moment. "I... I was tired."

"So?" he countered.

"My permission was tainted," I told him, nodding despite the lie. "I was tired."

He arched a brow. "Don't tell me you actually think that."

"I am thinking that!" I yelled back, making him smirk. "It's true!"

"Relax, Skye," he told me, leaning forward on his knees as he eyed me. "It's not like we did more than just...."

"Don't say it," I hissed.

"What I can't say it?" He chuckled. "You're that insecure?"

"I'm not insecure!" I yelled at him, making the smile widen. "I never let you! I was tired!"

He chuckled. "You never let me what?"

"I'm going to kill you," I promised. "Slowly."

He only gazed up at me fully. "Thanks for letting me snuggle with you last night."

I drew back, cheeks burning. "I did not... Don't say that."

"What?" he said innocently. "Snuggle?"

"Stop it," I hissed.

"Snuggle?" he continued. "Cuddle? Hug? Caress?"

"You are insufferable." I turned away, shaking my head.

"Hey," Sebastian said, "you should thank me. I kept you asleep all night." He gazed up as I stiffened. "All you needed was someone to rub your back, maybe kiss your head a little?"

I spun around then, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You do not get to make fun of me."

"Who ever said I was?" he countered.

"You know," I told him, every part of me burning with rage, "there's someone out there trying to kill me. And you're sitting here making fun of me and trying to get close! For all I know, they're you! Or you're at least helping them!"

He leaned forward. "Why would I want to kill you, Skye?"

I drew back at this. "I—I don't know."

"So why do you think it's me?" he said then.

"You're mysterious," I replied.

He smirked then. "Mysterious? That's your argument?"

"And you sneak in my room every night!" I told him. "You're creepy! You're practically breaking and entering right now! I could call my mom in here and get you arrested!"

He eyed me over. "Until I tell her that you let me hold you all night."

I froze.

"You let me cuddle you, Skye," he taunted. "And you lied to her face on multiple occasions about the attack thing. Is it because you don't trust her? Or do you not trust yourself?"

I drew back at this, and turned away, something cold developing inside me. "That's... different."

"Different?" he echoed. "How? How is lying to your mom different?"

"Stop," I said then, glaring at him. "You're not helping."

"I wasn't trying to," he replied coolly. "Maybe you should get a grasp on things, Skye. Maybe."

I gazed up. "What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?" he asked me.

"You..." I hesitated for a moment. "No, this... you're manipulating me!"

He arched a brow.

"Who is trying to kill me?" I demanded. "Who, huh? You clearly know who it is!"

"I do?" he said then. "Do I?"

I glared at him. "Stop gaslighting me. Who is trying to kill me?"

He smirked. "Question of the year, isn't it?"

"How do you keep getting into my house?" I asked him then. "It's like... you... can slip under doors or something. Like smoke."

He smirked over at me.

I just glared. "You are insufferable."

"I know," he replied, standing now. "And your mom's a heavy sleeper. She doesn't suspect anything's happening in here, does she?"

I shook my head. "Stop... being so... you."

"Me?" he echoed. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Offensive," I replied, shoving my stuff into my backpack. "Now get out of my room before I start craving the joy of shoving you out my window, and watching you fall to your death."

His brows arched. "Dark."

"Out." I pointed to the door.

He raised his hands innocently and stepped out my bedroom door.

I just shoved my bag down, groaning in annoyance.

I let him hold me all night, goddamn it... And now he's more in my head than he'd ever been.

What the hell was wrong with me?

When I woke up, he was gone, so I showered to try to recuperate my emotions... and then when I walked out...

This.

Ugh.

I was so sick of him.

I couldn't escape him... Why the hell was he so... mysterious?

A/N:

hey! Thoughts? Are you enjoying this so far?