• One Lifestand [BxB] •

22

[NOT EDITED, I'M A LAZY AND BUSY PERSON. SOMEONE PLEASE DO IT FOR ME]

Dedicated to @blahblah0011 and @__grapeee__
Thanks for following this story, and especially for the grammar- help courtesy from blahblah :)

Zale's PoV:

Waking up today is definitely less embarassing than it was yesterday, with me wearing my Pyjamas and my alarm having awoken me instead of Mario's half naked form. The man probably didn't even think twice about it and here I am still flustered and very much sexually affected by the occurrence. He had looked so mouthwatering in just his towel, still a little moist from his shower and the slick hair falling over his forehead in dark, almost black strands. I could've gone and licked the trails of his defined muscles right then and there, from tip to toe in delight, like a damned exited puppy. Okay enough! Zale Lionheart- you are not that desperate! cut it out!

A look at the phone tells me that I woke up up to my very quiet first alarm, which doesn't even make me shift in bed if I'm still tired, but wakes me up immediately on every other day, today being the norm. Mario's more of a 'sleep-in' kinda person from what I can tell after my two nights with the man, and since I wouldn't wake up a sleeping tiger to safe my life, I go about my short morning routine and decide to get some work done downstairs instead, with a cup of coffee, to make use of the quiet time.

It's not my apartment thought... Should I really be wandering around and brewing coffee like I own the place? Normally I'd say no to my better judgement but knowing Mario Vanstone he would most likely only get angry with me if he found out that I wasn't doing just that.

With that thought I just shrug my shoulders and descend the staircase with my laptop firmly tucked unter my arm, the loose t-shirt, which oddly enough is Mario's from the night before, swaying with each step I take. The fabric of that thing is so incredibly soft, which is the only reason it was currently allowed to expose my left shoulder and collarbone beneath it's black velvety fabric. No deeper intention underneath.

The kitchen is eerily quiet when I enter it though the big doors, Linda not up yet it seems, which is unterstandable given the fact that it is barely 6am and Mario won't be up for another couple of hours I assume. So I just rustle around the big expanse of the massive kitchen in search for my coffee. Where the hell is it? It can't be that hard to get myself some simple coffe now, can it'?! I admit defeat just 20 minutes later, no trace of coffee powder or a coffee machine for that matter. Who needs coffee anyways, right?!

A simple glass of water in hand instead, I make myself comfortable in one of the plush kitchen chairs and begin to type away on my computer, getting lost in the words and letters lining up my screen so much, I don't even notice Linda entering some unknown time later. Writing always seems to get my head lost in another dimension, one of the things I always adored about the work- you could be whoever you wanted to be, living away whichever life seems interesting and adventurous- very much unlike mine. It could probably never be a book, it would just be a boring collection of anxiety and self-hatred driven thoughts. It is fine thought, my life doesn't need to be interesting or filled with adventurous activities and happy moments- my books were. They allowed me and all my readers to get lost in their contents, to escape the dull and painful reality we all are subjected to at times. Knowing people enjoyed the stories as much as I do also gives me a warm feeling inside, because whatever people may say about you, when they compliment your books they conclusively compliment your character without proviso.

Averting my eyes from the glowing screen in front of me to the elderly woman, who currently advances on me with a curious look directed at my lap top, I couldn't help but grin. My late grandmother used to watch me write with a similar kind of fascination on her face. Linda is just so painfully resembling to her, it is as if my grandmother is still with me every step of the way, much like she had promised me even with her last breaths before passing.