Wizard (Martin Garrix Fanfiction)

Chapter 19

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I've never showered, put on clothes, brushed my teeth, done my hair, and put on makeup so fast in my life. Honestly, I think I might have brushed my teeth in the shower just to save 2 minutes.

Halfway through my 5 minute shower, I hear someone burst through the bathroom door without so much as a knock. I immediately wrap my arms around myself and ask "Martijn?"

"What is taking so long?!" He exclaims in response. I scoff at the shower curtain as if it had caused the offense, not the boy right outside it. My stomach churns at the thought. I'm so exposed and he's so close. If I just step out...

Unrinsed shampoo drops into my eye, and I nearly screech in frustration.

"What's taking me so long? You're the one who didn't set an alarm!" I reply, rinsing my hair, and knowing as I say it that I could have set an alarm just as easily as Martijn could.

I hear a growl, then, muffled, "If I washn't brusjhing my teefth right now, I'd tell you why thatsh bullshiht." I can't help but laugh at his ridiculous sounding voice. Martijn growls again in response, but its aggressiveness is largely alleviated by the sound of his toothbrush brushing away.

I'm finally done with the shortest shower in recorded history, so I reach one arm out of the shower and feel around for my towel. I can't feel it.

I grab the edge of the shower curtain and hold it up to my chin, covering myself but allowing me to peer out of the safety of the shower. My jaw drops. Martijn's back is to me, and he's wearing what I'm nearly certain is my towel, low around his waist.

His back is so muscular. His shoulders and biceps flex as he moves the toothbrush, and when he hunches over the sink I can see the perfect outline of his bottom through the white towel. Two small divets in his lower back indicate the presence of muscle there, too, and a long, deep line runs up from between them to the base of his neck.

Damn, this man is attractive.

But no time! "Martijn!" I say loudly, intending to disrupt him. He almost drops his toothbrush into the sink at my exclamation. He whips around, and my eyes nearly pop out of my skull. His torso looks incredible, and his clearly defined v-lines plunge into the depths of his towel, where I can see the definitive outline of -

"What's up, Mad Dog?" I realize I'm staring only when Martijn clears his throat, and my vision zooms back out. He's leaning on the sink, one very attractive hand gripping its edge for balance. A smirk and a pillow line decorate his still sleepy face.

I snicker. "You tell me." At this snide comment, Martijn raises his eyebrows before glancing down at himself. "F'koff," he laughs and turns back to the sink, running his hand through his messy brown hair. His hints of natural highlights catch in the sun that streams through the window, and I allow myself a single moment to admire him.

Once he's done fixing himself, Martijn turns on his heel and stands directly in front of me, leaning in towards my face. I clutch the shower curtain closer to myself, all too aware of my, well, nakedness. "At least I'm not naked in the shower with no towel and none in sight," he whispers, turning back toward the sink, admiring himself in the mirror.

I get the sliver of an idea. He's so distracted by the boy in the mirror, he just might not notice. I very slowly grab my clothes from the shelf by the shower and with one hand, hold them in front of the top of my exposed body. In one movement, I throw the shower curtain back and book it past Martijn and out of the bathroom, grabbing the bathroom handle and pulling it shut after me, letting my clothes drop to the floor. 

I feel the door handle pull away from me, but I spot what must have originally been Martijn's towel on the bed right next to me. I slowly let go of the handle with one hand, reaching for the towel. My fingertips brush the soft fabric, and I stretch like Elastigirl. Hooking it with one finger, I snap it to unfold it and wrap it around myself. Martijn yells, "Let go! I need..." he trails off. 

"What?" I yell, with feigned anger and a giggle in my throat, much more relaxed now that I've got fabric over me. "To see me naked?" I hear him chuckle from behind the door. 

"Well too bad!" I let go of the door handle and it flies open. I've secured the towel around my chest and stand with my hands on my hips as Martijn stands there in a towel of his own. 

"Damn. If you think this is somehow not as good as me seeing you straight naked, you are wrooong," Martijn ogles and winks at me, leaning in the door frame, one muscular arm raised above his head. His bicep bulges and one large vein runs the distance from his elbow to his shoulder, where it vanishes beneath his skin. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to take a shower of my own. If you decide you aren't clean enough, feel free to join me."

"As if," I scoff at him, a smile playing on my lips at the thought. He notices, of course, and smirks. "Shut up!" I say, his smirk only turning my smile into a grin, which I attempt to hold back.

"No," he says in response, and I grab an item of clothing from the pile I'd dropped, chucking it at him. It hits his hard chest and he grabs it. I look at the delicate item in his herculean hand. It's my bralette. The lacy black one. Of all the things I could have grabbed.

"Hmm... I remember this little number," Martijn chuckles. I blush and stammer once, at a loss for words, before finally announcing, "I will be leaving at precisely 11:20. If you aren't ready, I'll be leaving without you, and I might just find someone to help me if I get lost," alluding to the incident with Bastian.

Martijn's eyes darken almost unnoticeably, but I detect it. "Hmm," he says again, "Maybe I'll just keep this with me, then." He grins at me in revenge and I scoff in protest, reaching for it, but he pulls it back away too quickly. "Hell no! Give it to me!" Martijn takes a step towards me, taking my face in his hand. He tilts his head down and nearly meets my lips with his.

I breathe in and out once quickly at his closeness and the state of our bodies. I tilt my head up, ready for him to initiate a kiss. He leans in a fraction of an inch closer, then whispers, "No."

In an attempt to distract him, I reach up with both hands to cup his face. I trace his jaw, then slide my hands down his neck to his broad shoulders, then run my fingernails lightly over the skin of his arms. This leaves a trail of goosebumps, and creates them on his chest, too. I return my fingertips to his forearms, and just when he's started looking at me like he does when we're about to kiss, I've snatched my bra from his hand and danced a few feet away.

Martijn purses his lips and shakes his head, gazing at the ceiling. "I can't believe I fell for that again," he mutters contemplatively, and I can't help but grin. "Now go shower!" I command, pointing at the bathroom, "We are going to be late!"

"If you do it with me I'll be so much faster," he winks, and I laugh, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. I don't think he realizes what he just said. "I bet you say that to aaall the girls," I say exaggeratedly, nearly bending over with laughter. "Fuck! That's not what I meant. Dammit Mad Dog." He laughs now, too, and I can't tell if it's at what he said or at my own laughter. I look up at him, making eye contact, and yeah, I can tell.

"Go shower, idiot," I laugh. We're totally gonna be late.