In the Arms of Midnight

"You know, it won't physically hurt you to be nice for once." I crossed my arms in front of my chest and groaned.

"I don't want to take a chance." The corner of his lips lifted a little as he finished his sentence.

"Well, you don't hear me complaining. The view of someone so desperately working out is not a delight either." I retorted in a weary voice.

"I bet it isn't." He narrowed his eyes at me and commented.

Ugh... Why is he so damn annoying?

"You know what, just take your arrogant ass out of my room." I scowled at him, pointing towards the door.

With small steps, he walked towards me. I took a step backward when he neared me.

He was invading my personal space, making me a bit flustered. The urge to push back his golden-brown hair covering his forehead was increasing with every passing second.

"Gladly." He mumbled against my face and then walked past me out of my room. It took me a minute to calm down my racing heartbeat.

He was a mystery, an enigma I wanted to solve. He was exhausting, he was infuriating, yet staying away from him was not an option. He was making me feel things I haven't felt before.

Asher Milo Winslow! Who are you and what are you doing to my poor little heart?