Most girls would be jealous of Calliope Draycott. She seemingly has it all. The friends, the money, the boyfriend, and in a few years, if all goes to plan, she'll have the job too. So why doesn't she feel happy? It's after a disastrous family dinner...
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The last thing I expected to see when I walked into my bedroom was Caia sleeping on my bed.
I'm sure as hell not complaining though.
I should have been expecting something though, because Josh had a sly smile on his face as he told me to 'have a good one,' when I headed to my room. Out of all the possibilities that had gone through my head, this hadn't been one of them. Higher up on the list of possibilities was him putting a frog or a snake in my bed, or wrapping everything in my room in tinfoil, or filling my room with balloons.
Again.
For a second, I'm frozen to the spot. This view is everything and I'm stunned because just a few weeks ago, this, Caia sleeping on my bed, wouldn't have been possible. This wouldn't have been a reality.
It would have been a scenario I would've written for my fantasy (in the loosest sense of the word) piece.
But this isn't a fantasy though. She's really here. So, I walk over to her, and the bed dips under my weight when I sit down next to her.
When I brush some of her hair away from her face, she sighs happily in he sleep and rolls slightly so she's lying on her back more than her side. 'Caia?' I whisper and stroke her forehead gently.
Her eyes slowly flutter open and there's a hint of confusion in them at first, but then she remembers where she is as her eyes focus on me and a soft, contented smile spreads across her lips.
'Your room smells of you,' she says as she stretches her back. Her voice is still fogged with sleep, and even as she stretches, there's something so lazy and relaxed to it, and I just want to settle down next to her and go back to sleep.
But I have job applications to fill in.
I smile and let out a small laugh, but I don't stop stroking her hair. 'And what do I smell like?'
I can take a little break from job applications, since she's come all this way and waited (not-so-up) for me to get home from work.
She shuffles on the bed so she's sitting up a bit more and I move my hand from her hair to rest on her leg. 'Stale coffee, ink and paper.'
I look at the coffee that I didn't have time to finish this morning that's on my desk amongst balled up pieces of paper filled with ideas I've decided aren't good enough and then the smudges of ink on my hands from putting the newspapers out on display this morning.
Then she sees the smudges of ink and lets out a light laugh and traces them with her fingers. 'You smell like home.'
Her voice is quiet, almost as if she doesn't want me to hear, but I do, and the shit-eating grin on my face is a dead giveaway. I raise an eyebrow, feeling more confident than I ever have with this girl. 'Home, huh?'
She bites her lip and nods, 'god, I'm never going to live this one down am I?'
My hand cups her cheek and she meets my gaze.'No you're not, but I think you'll get over it eventually.'
