“Something that contributes to society,” she says, her lips curving into a small smile. “Something that helps all the beings on this planet.” She sniggers softly. “How ambitious.”
“Firecracker,” I say, my voice low but certain. “You’re going to prove everyone wrong. You’re going to rule the world, and when you do—” I turn toward her, a smile tugging at my lips.“—I’ll gladly kneel before you.”
She chuckles softly, her laugh carrying a warmth that spreads through me. “And when you make it big,” she replies. “I’ll cheer for you from the sidelines.” She tilts her head slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m kneeling in front of you.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “Or anyone.”
I smirk, unable to resist the thought that flashes through my mind.
∞∞∞
16
ANYA
I groan as the sunlight hits me. I bury my face into the pillow, trying to escape the harsh assault of the sunlight. I frown.When did pillows become so hard and angular?I open my eyes reluctantly and blink a few times, my vision gradually adjusting to the light, my mind slowly reorienting itself. I notice that instead of a soft pillow, I am resting my head against something solid and firm. It takes a moment for my brain to register that the solid object is actually a muscular chest. I gasp, pulling away, and find myself face to face with an all-too-familiar set of green eyes staring back at me, his signature smirk dancing on his lips.
I swallow heavily, my eyes widening as I realize the situation I’m in. I’m not just resting against his chest; I’m practically sprawled across him, one of my legs draped over his waist, his arm casually encircling my lower back. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I become acutely aware of our position.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greets, his voice still gravelly from sleep. “Comfy?” I immediately pull myself away from him, jumping out of bed, already missing the warmth. I wince as a wave of chilly air hits me.
“You know, for someone who was passed out cold, you’re pretty damn fast,” he says. I can see he’s enjoying himself. I huff in annoyance. I place my hands on my hips, attempting to exude confidence despite the growing desire to wrap myself back up in his warm embrace.
“It’s a talent,” I retort, my voice dripping with sass. “One of many, in fact. I can do a lot of things fast,” I add, a subtle innuendo lacing my words. What the hell?! How can I make it worse? I internally groan.Great job, Anya.
“I am pretty sure you can.” He chuckles. But then his face sets into a serious expression. He observes me for a moment and I feel a little self-conscious, considering my hair must be a mess, and I definitely look like a crackhead when I wake up.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and my eyes widen slightly at the unexpected question. It throws me off, and I find myself fumbling for words.
“Yeah.” I try to chuckle, but a weird sound comes out of my throat. “I am so sorry for yesterday,” I manage to say. I run a hand through my tangled hair, trying to tame it but only managing to make it worse. “I apologize for all the trouble.” I clasp my hands behind my back, staring at him. “I will take my leave.” I try to smile but fail. “I don’t want to cause any more inconvenience than I already have.” I laugh bitterly. I look down at myself. “I will return your clothes after washing them,” I assure him. I quickly pick up my bag and my phone. I can feel his gaze on me.
“Stop it, Anya.” His voice is a low sigh, laced with exasperation, as his hand rakes through his hair. My hands freeze, faltering in their movements. For a moment, I can’t decide whether to turn or pretend I didn’t hear him. The air feels charged, and I hate how much his voice affects me.
I finally muster the courage to glance back, but my movements are sluggish, like I’m trying to delay the inevitable. As I turn, my eyes catch on something—hishand, still tangled briefly in his hair, his jaw tightening. A flicker of hesitation crosses his face before it softens again. It takes me a moment to realize he’s already moved closer. The warmth of his presence makes my stomach flip, and my breath catches in my throat. He’s so close.Too close.
“There’s no need to be awkward about anything,” he murmurs, his tone so soft it feels like a secret meant only for me.
I open my mouth to say something witty and sarcastic, but all that comes out is a flustered stammer. My cheeks are on fire and my heart is racing a mile a minute.Damn it.I was supposed to be cool and collected. But I can’t help it; the way he looks at me, the way he touches me—it all stirs something within me that I can’t seem to control.
“I was just …” I try to form a coherent sentence, but my mind feels like a chaotic swirl. I can feel his gaze on me and I can practically hear my own heart beating in my ears. I look up at him and manage a sheepish smile. “I was just…I’m not awkward, okay?”
He looks at me intently, searching my eyes to see if I am lying. “Okay then, can I have the pleasure of having breakfast with you?” He grins at me widely. Despite the chaos of emotions swirling within me, I can’t help but find his infectious smile endearing. I run my fingers through my messy hair, trying to make myself somewhat presentable.
“I suppose I could spare a few minutes for breakfast.” I shrug, pretending to be nonchalant. His grin widens even more if that’s possible. “I will have to change first,” I mutter. His face falls slightly, but he nods.
“You don’t need to wash it though. I will do it myself,” he says. I open my mouth to argue. “No!” he exclaims. “Please don’t argue,” he almost whines.
I roll my eyes at his plea, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine, fine. I won’t argue.” I sigh, unable to ignore the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Damn it. Why doeshe have the ability to make me melt with just a pout? He grins when he senses he’s won this battle.
“That’s my girl,” he teases, unable to resist making a quip. I shake my head in disbelief, but the way I gasp internally is too hilarious and worth thinking about. My heart flutters at his words but I am too much of a coward to ask him what he means by it. That sentence is going to be my topic for the overthinking session I will have tonight. His green eyes sparkle with a mix of pride and satisfaction. “I will wait outside for you.”
I nod gratefully. Once I am finally left alone in the room, I release a deep sigh, my shoulders visibly relaxing. I take out yesterday’s outfit from my bag. I hate to get out of his hoodie. It’s just so comfy, and it smells like him, but I have to. Obviously. It would be weird otherwise. Slipping out of his clothes, I put on mine, cringing at the smell of my sweat, but I will have to deal with it.
I manage to quickly tie my hair up in a bun, which makes me look a bit presentable, and I rummage through my bag for my perfume. I desperately need it. I don’t want people to die because I really stink. I take one last glance in the mirror, the final attempt at taming my unruly hair.
I shake my head, watching as the strands fly and settle back into their usual chaotic state. With a resigned sigh, I give up and accept the fact that my hair is going to have a mind of its own no matter what. The reflection in the mirror shows me a girl with a messy bun, sporting a casual outfit consisting of a leggings and sweatshirt.
I open the door but Daniel is nowhere to be seen. I look around. I walk into the living room when I hear the coffee machine run in the kitchen, so I stop in my tracks. To my surprise, he’s right there in the kitchen, brewing coffee. He looks so focused, his nose scrunched up. A small smile appears on my face automatically.
I hesitate for a moment, watching him quietly for a few seconds. Should I say something? Or should I just wait until he notices my presence and gawk at him?
