Protecting The Bad Boy

Chapter Eighteen

And here it is! It's so so so late right now with me so please excuse any mistakes (;

Slightly shorter chapter but lots of what you love!

Song of the Chapter: Lorde - White Teeth Teens

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Chapter Eighteen: Lingerie Fixes Everything Right?

Day 6

I hold a very strong belief that fairy tales don't exist.

Yeah sure, people get lucky and miracles do happen but it's very rare that the bad guy doesn't win. In real life, the circumstances aren't always as cut and dry as you would like them to be and often it's hard to tell who is who.

I also don't believe that a princess needs a prince to save her; in most cases they seem to fuck the situation up even more.

A pair of lips press gently against the tip of my nose and my eyes slowly drift open.

For some reason I don't even stir as I'm greeted with a pair of hard, grey eyes staring straight into mine. Despite the cold colour, the light flecks of green and hazel take away any harshness that you could fight to find.

The warmth of a breath hits my face and suddenly all my senses are alert. Quickly the top half of my body jolts up and my head comes painfully into contact with the one who owns the mesmerizing gaze. He falls back from hovering over me.

"Fuck me Bambi!" Houston cries as he nurses his forehead.

My eyes are wide as I watch him curse further while he paces around my bedroom. How did he have the nerve to be in here? I glance at the alarm clock with reads 10:31am. My eyes then wander to an unconscious Emily who ended up sleeping in my bed last night after getting wasted. Her legs are propped up on the headboard and her head is dangling off the edge of the bed.

"No fucking thank you," I reply blankly, still sitting up with my hands behind supporting me and my blankets tangled around my legs. "What are you doing?"

I still was incredibly pissed off about what had happened last night. If it wasn't for the fact that my friends were having such a great time, I would've shut it down and kicked every single person out with the help of my boot and middle finger.

It was the fact that he not only broke one, or even two, but three of my rules I had specifically put out there in order for them not to have been broken. Oh god I could murder him.

Houston must notice the deadly change in my glare because his eyes widen as he holds in hands up in surrender.

"It's cool," he breathes, "I come in peace."

"I don't give a shit what you come in, I only care that you leave. Right. Now." I ground out the last three words while my mouth takes the form of a poisonous scowl.

"Bam-"

"No Houston. You need to realise that it took every bone in my body last night not to hack your dick off with a smashed Vodka bottle. Just thinking of what you did makes me see red; makes me want to make sure that you and your little friend could never do what you love to do best again. My job is to insure that you're safe and right now that means keeping you the hell away from me."

Houston's expression is blank. I sense an emotion flash through his eyes, guilt maybe? It fucking better be.

His eyes cast down to the floor, giving me prime time to check him out. He's wearing a crumpled plain black and white baseball top with black skinny jeans. His messy hair looks like he's put his hands through it a million times, a few curls falling on his forehead.