His Little Play Thing

The Devil Made Me Do It

"Hey babes I made us pancakes get up" Chelsea nudges you with her foot, pulling you out of a dream about giant dog men things.

You believe the term you're searching for is Werewolf. Either way you were at a great part in the dream and wound up wanting to shank her for waking you from your slumber. Upon waking up the first thing you realize is, you're on the floor and the second is the kink in your neck. Clearing your throat you stretch and crack your eyes open. The bright light takes you a few moments to adjust to.

"They better be the best damn pancakes on the planet" you yawn, "what time is it?"

She knew you probably needed the sleep so she let you.

"Eh 11:30" she replies with a shrug. "You seemed tired so I let you sleep in. Now shimmy that ass out of that fort and lets eat!"

You shuffle into a sitting position and look around the room. A blanket fort takes up much of the room propped up using your bed and your tv now sits on the floor. You had to move it in order to even see it while laying in the fort. You must've just fallen asleep there last night. Your neck is definitely feeling it this morning.

"Let me pee and I'll be right down"

She nods and turns to leave the room. But pauses and gives you a very suspicious smile.

"You have a guest downstairs by the way" she says without giving you any time to reply, and runs down the stairs.

A guest? Who?

You shake it off and stand to meander to the bathroom. Since its not just Chelsea you put a bit more time into making yourself look presentable but your stomach rolls with the possibility of who it might be. And just like that, your anxiety is nipping at your heels, begging for you to allow it access to your head. But you push it down. For now.

You dress in a pair of jean shorts, which may be entirely too short but you're too tired to care.

Presentable not pristine

You throw on a red tank and throw your hair into a messy pony before finally making it downstairs where you hear a boys voice followed along with a laugh.

I know that voice!

But why is he here??

You almost turn around and walk right back up those steps to change but Chelsea heard you coming down and meets you at the stairs.

"Why is he here?!" You whisper yell to her. She shrugs her shoulders.

"He said he wanted to just check on us and see how we were doing. I guess seeing you so drunk had him worrying" she whisper yells back.

You raise your eyebrows and pad past her into the kitchen. The boy in question stands from the kitchen table after seeing you walk in. His eyes are immediately on your legs as you walk up and you force yourself not to blush from the intensity of them.You hope that all of your scars are covered. But when his eyes meet yours, they flame red.

Son of a...

"Hey beautiful" he says with a small smile playing along his lips.

"Hi"

"I just wanted to check on you"

He steps toward you, Chelsea makes it a point to leave the room. And when you notice you give her a pleading look but she just smiles and goes into the living room.

You'll yell at her later. And by yell you mean ask her why in all things holy she left you alone with this boy.

"Why?" The bluntness of your voice seems to take him aback. His eyebrows raise as he attempts to ponder over the question. Apparently not expecting you to ask. He figured if he came over it would show his interest. But now he worries he creeped you out.