My eyes flash open before the alarm goes off. The first thing I remember this beautiful morning is the healthy torture Tristan needs. I smirk to myself before I set free from the clutches of my brother's hands. I switch off the alarm and quietly tiptoe out of the room.
Once in the kitchen, I start preparing watermelon juice making sure it is made as spicy and fiery as possible. Quite satisfied with the results, and confident about its outcome, I pour it into a jar and sneak back into Tristan's room. A beautiful smile curves up my lips. I slowly start to drip the juice, initially drop by drop, then a slow unbroken flow on my brother's face lost into his dreamland. His face disturbs a little as if someone is intruding in his dreamland by showering a sticky, spicy, red, viscous liquid. And then, being the vicious person I am, I mercilessly empty the jar on his face.
He wakes up with a start and then slowly opens his eyes. As he tries to decipher the mess I created, his face breaks into numerous expressions. From confusion, to disgust to anger but all of this just fills me up with one thought – sweet and hilarious revenge! The laughter I have been compressing within myself from such a long time finally erupts. The laughter causes so much pain that I feel cramps in my stomach and by the time I've relaxed enough to gain sanity and stop laughing, my brother is in his full conscious.
"You. Are. Dead. Anika! DEAD!!" he roars and tackles me on the bed. I try to yank free from him but all my efforts are in vain. Once again, looking so closely at his enhanced face laughter slips away from my mouth.
"You're still laughing, wait I'll show you," he climbs off me and goes to the other side of the room. I am still not able to hold my uncontrollable hilarity.
Suddenly, I feel something cold, too cold to be bearable being pierced into my soft-skinned face. My immediate reflex is to shut my eyes and shriek.
"The punishment!" I hear my brother crying out of happiness as if he's just won the Olympic Gold medal. Too much for a father-figure, mature, young man.
And now it is my turn to tackle him on the bed while he laughs hysterically. He lets me punch him a couple of times before easily lifting me off him. And then we both just lie calmly side by side, draining out our adrenaline overflow and silently smiling to ourselves. I know his thoughts are running on the same track as mine.
"I miss the old days," I tell him.
"Me too princess," he agrees, "But I promise, these new days are going to much better than the old ones."
He gently places a kiss on my forehead, the juice leaving its imprint on me.
"Yucks," I disgustedly say, rubbing my forehead.
Tristan lets out a chuckle before heading towards the bathroom. I start cleaning the bed and make the room. Then even I leave for a cozy shower.
***
I wrap the beautiful diamond watch around my wrist and examine its splendor on my hands.
"It's looking good on you," Tristan compliments leaving a trace of a smile on my lips. We then leave for the place Tristan is so desperate to show me.
"We will be first picking up Jason from his house so, you may want to settle yourself on the back seat," he advises me.
"What? No, I am sitting beside you." I adamantly declare.
"Oh god Anika, you're so stubborn. Jason will feel offended," he tries to explain me but I will not buy it.
"If for such a small thing your best friend feels offended, then I already don't like him," I pout.
"Exactly, if it's such a small thing, then go, sit behind," he presses in.
YOU ARE READING
GRAY
Novela Juvenil"I am not one of your fictional characters, with whom you're so in love with," he pins me to the wall and continues in his dangerous tone, "I am not Edward Cullen or Augustus Waters. Neither am I Peeta Mellark, nor that stupid Four," he moves back...
