Outlaws // Taron Egerton

Sixteen

A/N: Possibly the most confusing chapter I've ever written 😂

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IDRIS

     Margie lands her paws on my legs and stretches. From what I've read, it might've meant that she's coming by to say hi. Then tries to get her tongue on my wine, but I lift the glass in the air out of her reach. Taron sits next to me and he has his legs propped up on the coffee table. Even though I already told him not to.

     Out of annoyance, I slap his arm and he jumps. "What?!"

     "What? Put your legs down!"

      Exasperated, he does, rolling his eyes on me as I place the glass back to the table.

     Earlier today, I was left guessing what could be his intention to cancel the date but still go and hang with me, and the curiosity runs stronger now that he's asked about sixty questions since he got here and those are consecutive. Like why I strongly resent to be an heir of my father's company the moment he learnt about it, get involved in a mess that requires me to have a different identity and ruin my image, possibly my life too, which is, for celebrities are unquestionably their worst nightmare, and also the history of why I'm named 'Idris'. "My parents thought I was a boy until my mother gave birth. They didn't have time to think of other names, and they really liked Idris, so there," I say.

     Intrigued, I just had to ask, halting him when he's supposed to say something-perhaps ask another question. "Why are you here?"

     "Pardon me?"

     I giggle, trying to change the atmosphere because my tone was most apparently deadly rude. "I mean, you've postponed the date we were supposed to have today, but you're here hanging out with me. What makes it any different from going out?"

     "One, you are not ready to get out there as yourself. Two, maybe I'd just like to get to know you as Idris, not Margaux. So, no more lies, Blythe."

     I am unable to hold my beam upon hearing him say my last name in his posh little accent, I also let out a little laugh. "Blythe," I repeat, imitating his accent and deepening my voice in the lowest to 'sound like a man' and he smiles back. "Say it again, please?"

     He laughs along but he's shaking his head. 

     "Why not?"

     "You did a great impression," what a lie. "You could say it over and over again without requesting me to do it for you."

     I roll back my eyes slowly to make sure he really sees, groaning too. He grabs my glass of wine from the table. "This is mine now," he teases then he downs the whole glass in one swig, leaving me stunned.

     As I try to grab his wine, he clutches my wrist and pick the glass up with his free hand. "No, you're not doing that." I pout as I watch him finish his wine.

     "Very, very fucking petty."

      "I am, thank you very much." He hands me the empty glass and his head tilts sideways with a devious smile to mock me, and I must admit, I am slightly annoyed.

       He lets go of my arm and I take the glass and pour myself some wine, my expression is smug and he's just looking at my hand, licking his lips a bit like he's plotting his next petty move. Which is stealing Margie away from me. He takes the kitten away from my lap and to his. Margie adds more fuel to the fire, rubbing her head on Taron's knuckles and forearm and this man looks incredibly pleased with himself.