Faithless

Chapter Eight

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"Happiness is found when you stop comparing yourself to other people." - Anon

Dedication: Scarlet_Shilouette for the amazing cover

Recap:

"Pleasure, as always." Xavier smirked, our fingers brushing as I took the tiger from him.

"Wish I could say the same."

"Oh and by the way," Xavier said as I began to walk from him, my new toy tucked underneath my arm. "You accepted my apology. No take backs."

I just rolled my eyes, hugging the tiger closer to me.

That boy is full of surprises.

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Whatever progress Xavier and I had made at the carnival, was suddenly lost. He was so stupid to have done this. After all the effort he put in, trying to get me to forgive him for reading the letter, and he does this? I feel sick and betrayed.

I stared, with heavy eyes, at the almost-empty Nutella jar that stood before me. All I wanted to do, was kick back and enjoy my afternoon where I had no assessments to complete and no work commitments. I could sit down, watch a good movie and eat until I made myself sick.

But no. Of course. I should have known Xavier would do something this low. I can't believe he had the audacity to do something like this.

Who goes into someone else's house and eats their favourite food?

I was disgusted. And I don't care if this is technically his house, too. It's still mine, in my mind.

"What's up, Buttercup?" Speak of the Devil. His smooth voice floated through the kitchen, just before I could hear the soft padding of his feet following through, a mere second later. I ground my teeth together. Slowly, I pivoted, staring into the clear eyes of Xavier.

"You ate my nutella."

"I what?" he asked distractedly, chucking something into the sink. The clatter of the metal on metal made me flinch. I stared daggers in the back of his head, until he decided to finally look at me again. He paused, realising how serious I was. "Oh." He stared down at the basically empty jar between us, actually looking a little guilty. "Oops?"

"Oops?" I echoed, planting my hands on my hips. "That's all you have to say for yourself? I have been waiting all day for this. Now everything is ruined."

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure there is something else that you can eat instead."

"Nothing is better." I snapped.

He glanced up at me, his smirk wavering. "Are you actually this upset over Nutella?"

"Yes!"

"Wow."

"What?" I asked, folding my arms defensively across my chest.

"You take things so seriously."

"You don't take things seriously enough."

"Fine, you sook. I'll buy you another jar. No need to get all worked up."

"You're going to buy me another?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah?" he asked. He leaned forward slowly, his elbows resting on the granite bench top. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly put a finger inside the jar. Excruciatingly slow, he grazed the jar, collecting one of the last ounces of nutella. He brought it to his lips, his tongue snaking out and running across his finger. I couldn't take my eyes off him. A shiver ran down my spine as I imaged that tongue, running across my skin. My throat suddenly felt dry. He knew he had me. I couldn't stop staring. My lips parted slightly. He stuck his finger further in his mouth and somehow still able to smirk. "I know what's for dinner, how about dessert?"