Playing Pretend

Honestly, he's the biggest jerk.

I've been sitting on my bed for about an hour now, listening to August move in across the hall.

I know I should be helping him move in, but I was half afraid if I tried that I would either, 

A) Spontaneously combust or, B) Lick his face. 

And this is just a wild guess, but I didn't think he wanted my brains splattered across his fresh sheets or my saliva on his cheeks. His perfectly sculpted, jaw-dropping cheeks...

My teeth clamp on my tongue, forcing my thought to halt in it's tracks. No. I was cutting myself off from anymore thoughts about August. Sure he was gorgeous, but enough was enough. He had just surprised me in the foyer before. That's all. I'll be over it and obsessing about someone else in a matter of seconds. 

My back flops back against my mattress and I count slowly underneath my breathe, erasing one of his features my brain had taking the liberty of memorising with every rising number. 

One, bye-bye chocolate locks.

Two, adios deep, dark, mysterious eyes.

Three, I'll catch you later broad shoulders. 

By the time I reach ten I'm feeling significantly better and a little bit more like myself. Sighing happily I bounce to my feet and over to my desk that lined the ginormous window that took up most of right side of my room. When we had moved in from Raleigh I had literally pushed Harry down the stairs so I could lay claim on this room first. The view was incredible, and today was no exception. Early December snow had covered every possible surface, turning my concrete jungle into a winter wonderland. 

Flipping my laptop open I scroll through Facebook until I find the name I'm looking for, Penelope. 

Me: The alien has landed. I repeat, the Alien has landed and is currently moving in about two steps away from my bedroom door. 

Penelope: Sounds like fun to me ;) What's he like?

I pause, drumming my fingers across the keyboard. What did  I think of him?

Me: I have nothing to report as of yet, except that he's got the whole wounded bad boy look going on. I haven't actually talked to him to be honest. 

Penelope: Then why the hell are you sitting here talking to me! Get your ass in there right now. I'm not talking to you until you do!!!!

Penelope Lewis is offline. 

"That cow." I mutter, glaring at her display picture through the screen. 

I slam the lid and stare out the window like a lost puppy. 

Maybe I should go and talk to him.

I mean, it couldn't hurt. And it wasn't like I was attracted to him anymore or anything. I got that out of my system like five minutes ago. And really, Mom did tell me to be hospitable. So I guess if I didn't go in there right now I'd be disobeying Mom, and then I'd get in trouble. 

I didn't see what other option I had. My hands where tied. What. A. Shame. 

And just like that, I'm knocking on his door. Although I don't actually remember leaving my room, or brushing my hair. My nose crinkles as lavender attacks my nostrils, when the hell did I put perfume on? 

The door swings open and August is standing behind it. And although I knew he was coming, my stomach still flips in surprise. He had changed into a loose grey t-shirt and some ripped black jeans that in my opinion didn't look any comfier than the ones he had on before, although they did hang better off of his ...