Painting Paper Hearts | ✔

Chapter 9- Playing Cinderella

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My brain had idled for a bit from muddled thoughts, mustering what the stranger was babbling about in front of me.

It was barely ten in the morning anyway, plus I scarcely had decent amount of sleep since last night's conversation with Marcus— an undeniably handsome male specimen who had unintentionally done menacing skipping of my heart.

Truthfully, I wasn't a stranger to the whole falling in love thing because I'd been there, done that. Don't get me wrong. To admit to yourself that you have finally fallen in love to a person would take a lot of guts and when the feeling's mutual, it was like frolicking in a green garden full of daisies and sunflowers.

But I wouldn't indulge myself into the downside of falling freely anytime soon because the saddest truth was I couldn't have him— and I knew that like the back of my hand.

"Hello? Are you still with me?" said a slim man with light brown hair in a fairly high pitch tone. It was too high pitch for a man, anyways. He reminded me of Hawaii in the way he dressed—it looked like a unicorn threw up in his top and paraded around without a care in the world. All that was missing was a lei around his neck and he'd be the perfect tourist in Hawaii.

I held back the humorous image of him and wet my lips. "Sorry, I just woke up and I didn't have any coffee yet."

The man whom I just remembered who introduced himself earlier as Nikki, short for his name Nikolas, scanned my wholeness with scrutinizing eyes. I was still wearing my comfortable pajamas; my hair was a big ball of mess with a possible dry drool on the side of my face. He then pinched his nose, perhaps sensing my morning breath or just showing off his perfectly manicured fingernails.

I felt a nerve pop out of my forehead. It wasn't my fault that I wasn't visitor ready. First of all, Erin woke me up, screaming that we were being raided by strangers! I thought it was serious and dashed out of my bed without looking at myself in the mirror. I wanted to rip Erin into pieces when I met the group who looked harmless to me.

Now, I just sat on the sofa, half awake, barely listening to this unknown man across me with three equally beautiful women by his side, nodding at his every remark.

"Let's do this again, shall we?" he said, clearing his throat. "We're here because Mr. Don Valentine recognizes my expertise to turn ugly ducklings to... pretty swans. I have today's pampering schedule and I must have you ready before seven." He finished by handing me a piece of paper.

Did he just call me an ugly duckling?

I scanned the paper as soon as I set aside his offensive and unnecessary remark about me and put the best mature act I could manage. If not for my half-awake state, I would've been on top of him, clawing his overpowered face and smearing his perfectly glossy and sheer lipstick.