With a Stranger // Taylor Zakhar Perez

7: The Kissing Booth

We've ended up laughing the corners of our soul as we went back to his place. I couldn't feel my cheeks from the unbearable hysterics we've had on the way.

"What do you want for dinner, feather?" He teasingly glared at me as he offered the question. If he's not Taylor, I would definitely aim this shoe I'm removing straight to his face. 

"Anything, except you." Rolling my eyes after my bitchy statement, I paved my way towards the bed on the upper deck. Seeing his reaction would be amusing but I chose not to flare the moment this early. He did chuckle, yet he didn't do anything to come after me. 

That's a good thing isn't it? Oh come on! 

Lara, you totally suck at this.

I'm trying, okay!! I am! Let me work on that progress.

"You must be so tired, Lara. Go have a quick nap." Taylor spoke, out of the blue, while he prepared the kitchen stuffs. My eyes locked on his being, waiting for a slight glimpse from him. Unfortunately, he got caught up with his task that he didn't bother to do so. 

I dropped my body dead on the bed as I close my eyes. Still can't believe this is all happening. An Aussie woman, living the life of a princess from a quick sleep.

Hold up. 

No.

I won't be taking a nap. The last time I did, I woke up on a plane. History might repeat itself and take me farther than I could imagine. Hell no. Over my dead freaking body, I won't leave this guy. The plans of investing my love for him has been submitted to the higher committee of myself, which is my brain, and has been successfully approved without any doubts.

Instead of paralyzing myself from that suffocating thought, I flipped over from a supine position. My phone needs some checking after a long day. Since we'll be having our late dinner in any moment, I must see what the social media has for me.

In all obviousness, my Instagram couldn't even stop itself from ringing for the notifications have overwhelmed the app. A lot of anonymous people gave been flooding my post with their comments. In just a few hours, my post gained thousands of likes and comments. Usually, it would really take a week to complete a hundred.

That's the Taylor effect.

Well, maybe it is. And because my Instagram sucks at the moment, I needed to alter my concentration to other stuffs, like my email. Upon opening, I leisurely scrolled down to read on the ones I've ignored for a while. Something's wrong. Nothing here tells me why I'm here, not even a single message.

The last time I checked, my friends were congratulating me for taking this trip. 

Seeking the answers to my queries, I composed a message to Lawrence for a little confirmation to my confused mind.

"Hey, I've got some movies for tonight. Go get changed and let's choose together. Dinner's almost ready." Taylor hindered my way to figuring things out with his idea that's impossible to be responded by a no. I jumped out of bed to keep my phone inside the drawer. Maybe there isn't something to find out. I might be just overthinking.

Reopening the alleged luggage of mine, I checked the remaining unzipped portals of the bag. There were a few things that really belonged to me, those that had my initials written on it. My make ups, under garments, socks, and a few skirts were here. Imagine wearing clothes that are not yours for the entire day, there's this unfamiliar itch that I have to endure in my conscience.

Discovering a matching peach pj's, I hurriedly ran downstairs to change in the bathroom. Taylor blocked my way from reaching the shower with his broad shoulders and strong , lengthy arms.