Rescued By An Angel (Literally)

Rescued By An Angel (Literally) Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Shut Up or I'll Slap You.

Cassy's Side Of The Story:

I was awoken by the shrill beeping of my alarm clock; I groaned and went to turn it off, but somebody beat me to it. A sigh escaped my lips and I snuggled back into the chest that I was cradled in.

Wait.

What?!

My eyes snapped open in fright and I rolled out of their grasp, sending myself sprawling onto the cold floor. Blake's head popped down over the edge of my bed and he stared at me, confused. I stayed on the floor, but yanked my woollen blanket over myself; I didn't want to get up. My stomach felt tender, I knew it was from Ryan yesterday. I buried my head under the blanket and peeped at my torso, bingo. It was covered in bright blue bruises and caused my eyes to water whenever I moved.

Blake peeled back the blanket, and his eyebrows raised at the sight of a sleepy me; I probably looked like crap. "I don't want to go, too tired and sore." I settled back down in the layers of my blanket, squeezing my eyes shut. "Well, you'll have to go tell Cher, not me." Blake's methodical voice burst into my sleep deprived mind. But he was right. I groggily re-opened my eyes and yelled Cher's name.

Within thirty seconds she was in my room, fussing over me, finally she decided I could stay at home. Cher left hastily; I had made her late for work.

I curled back into my blanket, ready for sleep when somebody lifted me up. I knew it was Blake, I recognised the aroma of pineapple. I refused to open my eyes again, last time it was just too bright. The familiar feeling of my bed sagging under me was comforting, and I was about to start to doze when my stomach rumbled loudly.

I sat up, my eyes adjusting to how cheery and bright everything looked. My head pounded and I was stiff around my stomach. With a drowsy smile at a bemused Blake, I stumbled light-headedly to the bathroom.

I headed right for my shower, and after I went to brush my teeth. But when I saw my face, I was stopped short with shock.

A navy, mottled, poppy bruise was covering half of my forehead. It looked sore, and believe me, it sure was.

I brushed my teeth quietly and slowly, staring at the bruise I was wearing more than anything else. I hobbled to the kitchen, where I found Blake; damn, the guy read my mind.

Literally.

I placed two slices of bread in the toaster and slumped against the counter. Blake would want to know where my bruise had come from. I knew he would. And I think he saw my stomach when I went to look myself, I was just waiting for him to ask. I was terrified of catching his eye, secretly ashamed of the bruises.

As I was buttering my toast, the question came.

"So, you going to tell me where they came from, or are you going to leave me guessing which asshole I have track down and break?" Blake's voice echoed in the empty kitchen, and the menacing tone in his voice sent shivers down my spine.

I delicately bit down into my toast, licking my lips as melted butter ran down my chin. I watched as Blake's pupils dilated, and I stifled a smile, even though he was making death threats. "Blake, did you know that whenever somebody looks at something they like that their pupils dilate?" Blake blinked, brought off-track by my off topic statement. His pupils went back to a normal size, I narrowed my eyes and licked my lips again; causing his pupils to dilate yet again.

Typical boy.

I pushed my toast away, Blake frowning at me. "Your pupils keep on dilating and I can't eat with them doing that. It's creepy." Blake shook his head, bemused, "I can't help it if I'm looking at something I like." I rolled my eyes playfully, "Shut up or I'll slap you." Blake smirked, mimicking my playfulness, "I can't help it if I'm looking at something I like."

I raised a hand and walloped him square in the chest, it made a nice smacking noise but I could tell it didn't hurt in the slightest. Blake smirked, "You shouldn't hit those bigger than you, a little girl like you should know that. I would think that nearly everyone's bigger than you." I huffed heavily, "Shut up or I'll slap you." Blake's smirk swelled, "So, I've hit a nerve. Shortie."

I whacked his chest, shooting him daggers and glaring. Satisfaction rippled through me as that slapping noise echoed through the kitchen again. "Why were you even in my room at twenty to seven on a Tuesday morning anyways?" Blake stopped, I had him, "Well, I couldn't leave such an innocent little SHORT person alone all night."

"STOP WITH THE SHORT PUNS." I snapped loudly, picking my toast up and attacking it with my mouth viciously.  

And his pupils dilated.

God almighty.

"AND WHILE YOU'RE AT IT, STOP WITH THE PUPIL DILATINGS WHENEVER I EAT!"

"I can't help it if I'm looking at something I like." Blake cockily replied.

I snickered; he got turned on by me eating. Classic, this was too much.

"You get turned on by me eating, admit it." I yelped, annoyance switching to glee. Blake flushed, opening his mouth to deny it; then shutting it.

I enticingly bit into my toast, relishing his expression and dilating pupils. I threw my toast at Blake's head, giggling at his shocked face; skidding out of the kitchen on the wooden floor with my socks.

I knew he was after me, and I just stopped. After all, I shouldn't hit those bigger than me. And I guess that goes for running away too. Blake lifted me up from behind, fireman style. I winced in pain, stomach smarting. Blake quickly cursed and set me down, "Shit! Sorry! I forgot, and kind of got carried away..... But you never answered my question, how did those happen?"

I sucked in my cheeks, heart beating fast but not as fast as I lied. "I fell off of my bed, like I did this morning but I hit my suitcase instead of the floor." Blake raised his eyebrows, scrutinising my claim. In the end he just left it, but I knew not for long, he would bring it back up eventually.  

I stretched up on my tippy-toes, straining to reach his head, but I was still too short, maybe I WAS a Shortie? "Am I really a Shortie?" Doubt tainted my clear voice; I thought I was a normal height until Blake came along.

For the millionth time in the past hour, Blake's eyebrow's raised up a few centimetres, "Well, your shortness is accentuated by my tallness. In my opinion, your perfect just the way you are." I tittered, "Just like in the song, you over-clichéd softie. You might be big old tough looking lump, but I know you're really as soft as melting butter. You smell nice today, like pineapples."

"What's with your pineapple obsession?" Blake sighed.

"Can I go back to bed now? Please? I'm shattered! And if you want, you can come too..." I trailed off suggestively; laughing inside at his excitement when all I wanted was to sleep.

Blake's Side Of The Story:

Blake was still in a state of shock from last night, Régine hadn't mentally yelled, hadn't cussed him out, and best of all hadn't summoned him back.

He was still here.

All she had said was 'Look after my baby..... Claims are made....'

But Blake was truly shocked; this woman just let them be. What were the odds?

And whoever said that spooning was uncomfortable lied, Blake had never felt happier. Lying in a small bed with a small person while spooning was actually pretty nice. A small person, Blake smiled to himself, Cassy really was a midget.

And she snored. But not in the bad way, it was a cute slight snore.

Blake wasn't going to forget about the bruises on her stomach and her face; they were too serious for him to forget. And he didn't know anyone who had slept for over half of the past 24 hours or who had eaten so much.

He wasn't complaining though, she was perfect.

Just the way she was.