British Exchange Agent

Chapter 12

I turned over and snuggled into the duvet, inhaling the scent of crisp apples.

Wait a second...

My eyes shot open and I looked at the jet black duvet in my hands. I threw it away from me and sat up so fast my head span slightly. Looking around the vast space around me, I took in the dark wooden chest of drawers and wall of doors.

I rubbed my eyes, squinting in the dim light and trying to piece together where I was. The barren room held no clutter whatsoever, reminding me of Cyrus's kitchen.

Cyrus.

My memory came pelting back and I leant back against the wooden bed. Soft fabric brushed against my neck, and I looked down at the shirt Cyrus had let me borrow. It was black, coming down to my knees and covering my shorts.

Remembering that Cyrus had slept on the sofa downstairs, I concluded it was safe to do some snooping.

Such a huge house and yet no spare bedroom.

I shook my head, yawning. The black curtains were creating a dim aura around the room, blocking my vision. I got up and ripped the curtains open, before heading towards the drawers.

I found multiple black and grey shirts, jeans, boxers and socks, but no documents. No guns. No phones.

I chewed on my lip, re-doing my messy ponytail.

Surely I could find something...

I headed over to the doors and slid them open, revealing a wall of white shelves. They were accessorised with a few books, dog toys and shoes. I went through every single book and searched for...anything.

I sighed, slamming down the last book on the floor. Nothing.

Knock. Knock.

I quickly stashed the book back and shut the doors, hurrying over to the bedroom door. Cyrus was standing behind it, leaning against the wall. He straightened up when his grey eyes met mine.

"Hey; thanks for letting me stay over." I yawned, stretching slightly. Cyrus's shirt lifted up slightly, revealing the hem of my denim shorts. He glanced at my legs, before bringing his eyes back up to mine.

"No problem." He shrugged. "I wanted to wake you up for school."

I gave him a small smile, nodding. Cyrus's inky black hair was spiked up messily - but unlike me, he pulled it off perfectly.

He was wearing another grey shirt, the dull colour no comparison to his silver eyes. They glinted a slight blue colour as the corner of his lips tugged up.

"Breakfast?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. The Alsatian by his side barked, alerting me to his presence.

"Oh, hey Spike - I didn't see you there." I exclaimed, bending down to stoke his silky fur.

Cyrus was watching me as I glanced up, flashing him a smile and brushing past. He followed me into the kitchen, before picking up a frying pan with an omelette in it.

"Like eggs?"

My eyebrows rose as he put my half on a plate, placing it in front of me.

"I must say, I'm impressed." I told him, eyeing the food suspiciously. Had it been poisoned?

Cyrus shrugged off my compliment and sat down on a bar stool, digging in. I poked it with my fork as his eyes drifted towards the window.

It didn't look poisoned.