Taming The Lockwood

Thirteen

I jerk awake as soon as the sound of my front door closing rings through my head. I let out a groan and bury my face under the pillow.

It's a Sunday, leave me alone.

You looked beautiful tonight.

His velvety voice repeats over and over in my head and a knowing blush taints my cheeks. I let out a louder groan and force myself off the bed, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top before heading in the direction of my bathroom.

I stop short as soon as I remember the drunk big bad wolf that fell asleep on my sofa. I hesitantly tiptoe to my door, pushing it slightly ajar and peek out, hoping upon hope he had disappeared to prevent the awkward coming encounter. An empty sofa and a pile of crinkled blanket and pillows are the only trace of his prior presence.

I let out a loud sigh of relief and move over to his last spot on the sofa, pulling the blanket over my bare shoulders and press my face into the pillow. The latter is comfortably warm and I inhale his known sandalwood scent that cloaks the covers.

A pleasant feeling of relief washes over me and fills the emptiness of my eyelids, lulling me to sleep.

***

"Jesus christ!" A voice booms out loudly followed by the sound of a foot hitting the floor repeatedly.

I sit up on the sofa, regretting my decision instantly as soon as the world around me begins to double and triple in size.

"Hello?" I speak out, my eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

Gabriel is standing in the door frame, looking entirely out of place clad in a crisp suit from head to toe. His hair is tousled in its signature manner and his usual hard expression is painted across his face. There was no trace of a headache or any pain from last night's shenanigans and his whole facade had me speculating if it were all just a dream.

I watch as his gaze drops to my bare legs and trails up to the top of my shorts that creep out from beaneath the blanket. The action leaves my skin feeling tingly and I tuck my legs in before continuing the questioning.

"How did you get in?"

He holds up a plain key. A key that looks very similar to the one I had hidden beneath the plant pot at the entrance of my apartment.

"You can't just steal my spare key." I state, as if talking to a small child.

"Who said I was stealing?"

"Did I give you permission?"

"I don't need it."

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"If you think I came to visit you then don't get too excited. I left my bread and milk in your fridge yesterday, I'm simply retrieving it." He holds his hands up in defence.

I sigh and collapse back onto the sofa, pulling the blanket around me snugly. From my position, I watch him cheekily pocket my spare key and head away into the kitchen.

Knowing full well he could hear, I continue, frustrated to the core, "If you think I have some obsession with you then you must be mistaken. I couldn't care any less and if you haven't already noticed, you're the only one bringing up the prospect of me being the slightest bit interested in you."