The Villa [ a love island the game fanfiction ]

a little bit of competition

Day Five

Bobby is a morning person, he informs me of this the following morning through a horrid breathe and a set of glazed over eyes. I can feel him behind me, the warmth of his bare stomach flush against my back. I am tired, my mind flickering in and out of slumber, until he plants an innocent kiss on my lower neck; breaking me from my dreams of my mothers laughter. There is a smile on his lips, I can feel it through the peppering of kisses he trails up my back. 

I giggle and gently push him back with my ass, he groans in mock pleasure at the action. 

I have travelled vastly. My tired bones have danced in the streets of Paris, my tender hands have aided in building homes for those who cannot in Cambodia, my stomach has filled itself with so much Cantonese food that I had almost exploded, and my mind has attempted at reading Latin on numerous occasions. I used to send post cards home to mother from Spain, and video call her from Disneyland. I have fallen into deep cases of infatuation all over the globe, from London to Australia and right back again. My heels have stepped all over hundreds of hearts, tearing them to pieces and the blowing them back in their faces in the form of a kiss.

Never once have I feared for my own heart, my own heart has never been printed across any of the playing cards. Not until now.

'Do you want a cuppa?' I whisper.

Bobby sighs from behind me, his breathe feels like fire against the back of my neck. 'I am always the one up early, preparing a brew --'

I perk up, land a kiss on his cheek and kick my legs out from beneath the blankets.

'I'll go make you one then, it's about time someone spoiled you,' I inform him as I tottle off towards the kitchen.

The harsh, Majorcan sun slaps me across the face as soon as my bare feet meet the sizzling stones outside the entrance to the lawn. I try my hardest to skip as fast as I can across the stones, the harshness burning the soles of my feet, and enter the kitchen at a lightning pace. I put myself to work, filling the kettle and placing it on boil as soon I reach the counter.

I sigh, my eyes on the kettle, and chew on my lower lip as I wait. That is when I hear it; or more them. A furrow knits itself into my brow and I raise my eyes from the kettle up to the pool, there are splashes to be heard and my brows knits closer together when I realise that I am not the only person up. 

A long, slender male with killer blonde locks is throwing his arms through the air; a ball zeros in on his catch, thrown by an equally slender dark haired male. They look like complete opposites, one a grinning beauty and the other a smouldering darling with a gorgeous, dark stare. 

I am in complete pause, not a single bone of mine will work. I glance between the two new boys and Bobby's brew for a second too long, my mind is an array of uncertain thoughts. Amelia would want me to walk down there and introduce myself, maybe flirt a little, maybe organise a second choice; a back up plan, someone I could run into the arms of if it turns out Bobby is more of a snake than I am. I chew my lip some more, weighing my odds, and cave into Bobby's funny quirks -- my footfalls are light on the stone walkway as I begin my way back towards the bedroom.

Bobby pops his eyes open at my arrival, but his face only morphs into a disappointed frown when he realises that I am not, in fact, carrying a mug in my hands. 

I sigh loudly and clap twice. 'There's new islanders.'

My words work as the lights and everybody begins to sit up, rattled stares meeting each others and then, all at once, they ask a boy or girl?