Speak Now

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Have you ever experienced the total frustration of having your head and heart scream different things at you? The conflicting ideas were too much for me to handle and it had kept me up all night to the point that I woke up this morning to dark circles diving into the unsightly bags under my eyes. I groan at my reflection as I step out of the shower, wondering if there was anything in my bag of tricks that could get rid of the evidence of a restless night's sleep. Vaguely remembering that I'd paid an extortionate amount of money for some fancy eye serum, I rummaged through the makeup bag fruitlessly. Giving up, I entertained the idea that maybe today would be one of my off days where I'd pile my wet hair up into a bun and wear my eye bags with pride like I was toting a Birkin on my face. 

As I stood in front of the mirror, with only a towel covering my modesty, I decided that instead of giving into my inner sloth, I should probably make more of an effort than usual. For the next hour, I dried and styled my hair, carefully chose today's co-ordinating outfit with obligatory heels, and trowelled on several layers of makeup that made me seem vaguely decent. 

Heading down the stairs for breakfast with the others, I walk into the dining room to see that someone had reset the furniture and the other houseguests were sitting, eating their breakfast. I ignore the fact that they're all still dressed in pyjamas with yesterday's hair in various displays of disarray and sit next to James, staring at his shirtless torso. I wasn't ogling, unlike Keira and Aoife, but I did frown at his decision to walk around half-dressed. Having lived with him, I knew that his sleep attire also consisted of a tattered t-shirt which made this chiselled abs-made-of-marble thing seem even more unsettling. 

"Stop staring," James mutters. I snap my eyes up to meet his amused gaze but I don't blush. He isn't that good looking. "I know I'm irresistible to you, Martha, but come on. Put your tongue back in your mouth."

I snort unattractively. "Yeah, right. You're like Chris Pratt before he Longbottomed," I comment back at him, watching as his eyes narrow and lips curl into a sort of snarl. "Oh, I'm sorry, did my brutal honesty inconvenience your ego?"

"You're a hateful person, Fletcher," he throws at me. "Did someone sprinkle bitchy dust over you this morning?"

"No, this is just my normal, sunny disposition."

James blinks. "There's nothing normal about you."

"Yeah, but what is 'normal'?" I ask, knowing full well that it was once a mantra to him after his first spell at rehab. James turns from me and dips the pads of his fingers into a glass of milk, getting ready to flick it over me. It was a habit of his that he found amusing. I did not find it as funny. "You do that and I will bitchslap you so hard even Google will have trouble finding you."

I stare James down until he sighed and wiped his hand on a napkin, muttering that he'd get his own back another way. Rolling my eyes, I fill my bowl with granola and yoghurt, ignoring the way a few around the table stared at James and me. Keira and Aoife were doing the doe-eyed thing, where I could practically see their thoughts hovering above their heads in speech bubbles. They are so cute together! I can't believe they never dated. They should totally date. They'd make an adorable couple. Logan and Charlie both frowned, shrugged, and went back to eating his croissant like the last three minutes didn't just happen.