𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖎 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 [p.m]

𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖋𝖙𝖍

Dot's POV

Austin?!

I don't remember being on the same bed as him when I fell asleep. I was on the sofa, falling deeply in a really good sleep in about twenty seconds. And when I wake up I'm on that bed with my friend, wearing.. am I wearing anything?

I watch what I'm wearing, hoping I have some clothes on and.. thank God I do. Oh my God, thanks. We didn't do anything strange that night.

Austin opens his eyes before smiling at me. His sleepy face made me blush, fuck he's cute.

I'm not blushing because I love him. I don't. I'm blushing because of how cute he is. I still can find my friend cute without being in love with him right?

Add to that that I'm still in a relationship. I mean I guess. We haven't talked since I left. He's maybe better now.

Anyway, back to Austin. He looks at me, his beautiful sparkly blue eyes, god they're beautiful, are making me lose any kind of sign of reality. How can eyes be that magical and wonderful?

"Are you okay?" He asks, cutely. His morning voice, rockier than usual, is making me so happy. I feel so strange. I don't know what that is. I don't want to know. Friends. That's it.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just... Why am I on your bed?" I ask, concerned. We haven't done anything sexual, we both have clothes on, I mean I do, he doesn't have a shirt on but I assume he has at least underwear on. We are both in the same bed, I want to know why.

"You fell asleep on the couch. I took you to my room because I couldn't go upstairs, the stairs would make noises and wake you up. So I took you to my room, thinking I was going to sleep on the couch. But after I put you in my bed I started to go and you took my hand, hard, I couldn't go. So I took my shirt off and come to bed, trying not to wake you up." He explains.

Wow, what a story. I'm that kind of person, really? Fuck. I always thought I wasn't. Funny enough he stayed with me though.

Anyway. I can't stay on the bed with him anymore, plus I'm hungry as hell! So I tell him so, and he tells me that his chef is already here.

So I go to the kitchen, starving. I see his chef, a beautiful young Arabic man, really great. I say hello and smile brightly, so does he.

I sat by the seat near the aisle, as my stomach make a noise loud enough to embarrass me.

"You're hungry?" The chef says, laughing at me, his beautiful white teeth showing. Fuck, his teeth are so white, how the fuck?

"Yeah I'm starving" I said, timidly, laughing nervously. He smiles at me, his light green eyes looking down to his hands.

"What do you want to eat? We have pancakes, fruits salad, cereals, everything you could ask for!" He says, happily.

"I might take a fruit salad, thank you" I say, nervous. I'm surrounded by good-looking people lately, what is happening to me. Not like I don't usually am, but for once I'm with people that are near perfection; good, friendly, smiling, beautiful, yeah. What. Is. Happening.

The fruit salad is amazing. How is that possible that even a fruit salad, one of the most basics things in the universe, is so different than any others I've ever had. I love this chef. He's a magician.

We both hear footsteps from the level right under us. Yeah, his level. I mean, all level are his, but the one under us is like his room, his bathroom, his private living room. I mean you know, rich life. He must be so happy though. If I was rich I would be happy as hell.

I see his sleepy face coming in the kitchen. He smiles at me and at his chef, as he made him "the usual". Coffee, black coffee, really black coffee. So black it looks like some Gothic thing.