The six-month housemate

Twelve

TWELVE

"Emma, wake up!"

I grunted, opening my eyes slowly. Being shaken out of sleep after what feels like two hours, not even, of sleep is not nice, trust me.

"What?"

Alex was sitting down on the side of my bed shaking my shoulder. He looked paniqued, which meant nothing good.

"Okay, so I had Mum on the phone earlier and she said that Mrs MacDonald had told her everything's fine." He said quickly.

"How is that a reason for waking me up? What time is it?"

"You need to stop interrupting all the time!" He let out a frustrated sigh. "You know how she said we had to go and have tea at her place today? Well apparently, we need to bring stuff to eat, and Mum said we needed to make cupcakes and a chocolate cake, and maybe a French sweet speciality."

"And how does any of this link back to me? I need my sleep." I whined.

"Emma it's 11:00am, I think you can sleep later. I need your help, my cooking abilities are limitated to making myself pasta or an egg."

11am. How come I felt so tired, when I'd slept something like 10 hours?

"And Oliver?" I asked, rubbing my temples in an attempt to make the sleep go away.

"He's gone, he went to meet some of his friends."

I sighed. "How stereotypical is this? Like, the girl in the kitchen and the guys doing f*uck all."

"Please, Emma, pretty please?" Alex continued, batting his eyelids. "I'll love you all my life."

"Ugh. Fine. But I want two things in exchange."

"Whatever you want." He answered quickly, with pleading eyes.

"One: give me a little time to have my shower and breakfast before starting the cooking."

"No problem. Don't you want to have lunch, though? I can make us some pasta." Alex winked.

"Okay. Second request: you stay in the kitchen while I cook, so that I can teach you."

"Fine." He sighed dramatically. I glared at him. "Just kidding. It can be fun." He raised his hands in an "I'm innocent" gesture.

"Yeah. So I'll be down in half an hour."

"Are you serious? Half an hour? How much time do you spend in a shower, girl?"

"Not that long, I just need to wash my hair." I answered apologetically.

"What a diva." He rolled his eyes.

"Speak for yourself, Mr I-spend-hours-making-my-hair-look-messy."

The look of pure shock on his face was priceless.

"Hm... Stalker much?"

"You wish." I winked. Locker room info is so useful sometimes. Guys gossiping about other guys from the rugby team is hilarious because, well, one, you realize gossiping isn't only a girl's thing, and two, you get interesting info. Some things you didn't need to know, but other stuff is kind of interesting. "I just happen to have very good sources. Now, if you'll excuse me!" I picked up what I needed for my shower and headed towards the bathroom.

---

I realized when I was dry and dressed that I'd forgotten my hairdryer and my curling iron in my bedroom.

Sorry if it disappoints you: my hair isn't naturally curly, unfortunately. Its "straight straight straight", as Rachel Green says. If you don't know who she is, you missed your life.

As I started drying my hair, Alex came and watched me. He leaned against the doorframe, his hands casually in his pockets. I had my back to him, but I could see his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing a dark-grey, v-neck tee-shirt, with dark jeans. How is it that he can look so sexy in such simple clothing, I will never know. I had to refrain myself from asking if he'd ever considered a modelling career.

I picked up my curling iron.

"No." Alex said.

"What?" I answered, puzzled.

"You shouldn't curl your hair." He finally said, after some time just looking at my reflection in the mirror.

"Why not? Are we running out of time?" I started curling the front of my hair.

"Partly because of that." He answered, gently taking the curling iron from my hands. "But partly because you look better with straight hair. It looks more natural. Why would you want to try and change something that's already beautiful?"

To be honest, I didn't feel the need to curl my hair anymore. It had just become a reflex, because I'd done it so many times. I'd once read in a magazine that curls made you look less tired, which was the reason I'd started curling my hair; trust me, I needed it, after all the sleepless nights of homework.

Yes. School wasn't my priority, but I still liked to have my homework done. And I was the type of girl who did it the night before.

"Not mentionning that you're ruinning your hair, with the heat and everything." Alex continued, picking up a strand of the back of my head and examining it between his fingers. He frowned a little, and gave me the iron back. "But then, it's your choice. Do whatever you want."

I looked at myself in the mirror. I had only curled the two strands of hair that framed my face. I put the iron down, unplugged it and turned around.

"I'm trusting you on this." I warned Alex.

"Really? You won't curl your hair? For me?" He looked genuinely pleased, almost giddy.

"Yes. Now come on, we have some cooking to do."

---
Hi!
Long time no update, sorry about that... This update is shorter than what you've been used to in the previous chapters, BUT I haves good reason for that: 1) I've been writing some further scenes so that I can update sooner in the future AND 2) I've written a chapter of Alex's point of view, and it is published in a new story called Girl, that you can find in my works. :)
For the moment it only has kind of a background chapter, but then you'll get why he has been acting like he has in the last few chapters. :D
So, yeah... I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, I'll try and update ASAP!
See you soon!
the_rugbywoman