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Three possible scenarios ran through my head on ways to wake up Jesse as I stared at his sleeping figure.
One, I sack him in the stomach or threw a my pillow with Chanyeol's face on it, whilst risking the possibility of getting hit by the said male occupant of my chair.
Or two, go downstairs and grab a bucket of water and perform a live ALS challenge in my room with the said occupant.
Or three, let him sleep and let him wake up naturally, at which I demand to know the insane reason as to why he was currently in my flipping room.
Options one and two had downsides.
One, I'd risk possible damage to my physique given his apparent dominance in that area. He was bigger, broader and stronger than me. I would also be insulting Chanyeol by throwing the pillow at the asshole.
Two, I didn't have the energy to lug a bucket of water up to my room and I definitely don't want a monster puddle in my room.
So, I settled with option three, begrudgingly of course.
I studied Jesse.
He looked different asleep. I guess everyone did.
Jesse looked peaceful, less arrogant, less annoying, less everything I hated him for.
But it also made him more handsome. The sun that filtered through the shade of the curtain made his hair a shade light than its current colour. His skin was unblemished and his jawline was emphasized with his head at that angle. His face free of that cocky smirk, he looked so innocent.
Maybe I was overanalyzing. Maybe he just looked more handsome because his mouth was shut tight and not spewing out insults, profanities or sardistic comments.
Why should I be letting him sleep in my room, peacefully at that?
So I settled for a middle ground.
I stood up, went to my CD collection and pulled out my EXODUS album, Chanyeol's version of course, and played it.
El Dorado started playing and I increase the volume to 10.
Then 11. 12. 13.
I studied Jesse, waiting for him to wake up from the noise.
No reaction from the corpse.
14. 15. 16.
Still no reaction.
A knock stopped me from increasing the volume anymore.
"Yes?" My eyes widened at the possibility of my parents walking in on the current situation.
Jesse, a boy, asleep in my room. Asleep, but still in my room.
Shit!!!!!
"Sweetheart, is everything okay?" My dad's voice echoes through the door. Concern can be heard from his voice.
"Uh... Yeah," I replied as I ran over, grabbed my comforter and threw it at Jesse, covering him instantly. But then, he was bigger than me, so his feet remained visible.
"Honey, can I come in?" He asked.
I knew I was in trouble.
If I say no, he would know something was definitely wrong, and he'd come in anyway. If I say yes, he'd come in and see the idiot on my chair.
Oh and did I mention I was wearing really mini pyjama bottoms and a singlet that left little to the imagination. After all, I didn't expect a jerk to pop up in my room overnight, so I wasn't really that conservative in my choice of sleepwear.
"Uhmm... Yeah," I said as I moved to block his view of Jesse.
My dad walked in, dressed in his running clothes.
"Are you feeling better?" He asked, concerned as he walked over and pressed a hand against my hand, checking my temperature.
I nodded.
"Well, that's good then," he smiled, relieved. Then he looked around my room. "Where's Jesse?"
My eyes widened.
How did he know?
My dad read my shocked look and burst out laughing.
"I know he's here, honey. We called him over," he answered, shocking me even more.
"Why?" I asked, confused and furious at the same time.
"You were asking for him in your sleep, honey," dad said as he smirked.
And that is when Jesse Archer decided to wake up. Not when I was blasting music, but when my dad dropped a literal bomb on me.
"What's going... on?" A groggy Jesse said from behind me, as I hear my comforter falling to the ground.
My dads eyes drifted over to him. "What were you trying to do, Santana, smother the guy to death?"
Nope. Not really. But then again, that would've be a very good outcome too.
I shrugged at his question.
"Morning son," dad said as he walked over and helped him up.
Son?
"Uhm..." The sleep finally ran out of him as he gathered the situation. "Morning, Mr Klaus, sir."
If the situation hadn't been so confusing, I would've smirked at Jesse's awkwardness.
"What do you think about a run to get the sleep out of the system?" Dad asked.
Jesse's eyes wandered to me, as if he had something to say, but then he resigned it to later as he nodded at my dad.
"Great. See you downstairs in five. Just wash up."
Dad walked out of the room after shooting me a wink. Oh and he closed the door behind him.
What the heck is my dad thinking? What sane father closed the door behind him, leaving his only daughter in a room with a warm-blooded, still very aliveteenage male?
Jesse and I stood awkwardly in the room for what felt like a century. But then again, the tension was plausible.
"You feeling better?" He asked as he looked me over with concern.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I snapped.
"I..." He paused, watching me, "I..."
"Stop stuttering. Gosh! I'm not going to kill you." For now.
He nodded. And suddenly, his demanour had changed.
Gone was the stuttering fool, and suddenly the arrogant Jesse was back.
Did he have a personality disorder or something?
Right! Question his reasoning and not yours, my conscience berates. Who was dreaming and calling out for him in their sleep?
Jesse walked towards me, a smirk on his face.
I backed away from him.
I've watched too many rom-coms to know what was happening, yet stupid me subconsciously backed up, leading to the high probability of being trapped against a wall.
And what happened?
Santana the idiot got trapped against the door when Jesse advanced, leaving her no room to escape.
"Get away from me!" I snapped as his heat pressed against mine. His body temperature increased where my skin touched his. And giving my lack of covering, there was a lot of heat. I didn't like this. Not one bit.
I tried to push him away but he overpowers me and presses me further into the wall.
He chuckles evilly. "Funny," he smirks. "When your dad called me last night, I distinctively remember him saying something about you calling out for me."
My face reddened. "That's preposterous!"
"I thought so too," he leaned in, "until I came here and heard you calling for me."
"I did not!"
"You sure you wanna play the denial game with me, sweetheart?" He smirked. "I got proof." His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He pressed a couple of buttons before he played something.
My voice, distinctively. Calling out for him. In my sleep.
Fuck!
"I was having a nightmare," I said instantly.
He smirked. "Dream or nightmare. You were still thinking about me in your sleep, Marie." His eyes darted to my lips and my face flushed red again.
"Can you... move away, please?" My voice came out begging.
He smirked, sensing the uneasiness I felt with him so close, before he pulled away, still maintaining a close distance between us.
His eyes lingered over my body and only then did I become even more conscious of what I was wearing. I rushed over and grabbed a sweater, covering myself.
He chuckled. "Oh don't worry sweetheart," his tone teasing, "I've already seen it all."
* * *
"I don't see what you're freaking out over, San," mom said as she served me some scrambled eggs and bacon, with a glass of OJ.
After that comment from the jerk, I threw my pillow at him. Sorry Chanyeol! I thought as my bias's face connected with the asshole.
He and dad already left for their run and for the seventh time I was complaining to mom on my dislike of him having slept in my room.
"I'm freaking out because that was not the right thing to do!" I snapped. "Why did you guys have to call him over?"
"You were calling out for him, honey. How many times do I have to tell you?"
"That does not make sense mom. Why would I call out for him?" I gulped down half the glass of OJ in frustration.
She looked at me pityingly. "Maybe you missed him."
The OJ nearly came spewing out. I managed to saw face at the last second. "Why?" My brow arched.
"Maybe you just want to get back with him," she replied.
Right. They thought we dated for real.
That whole fake dating thing was really messing up my life.
"Whatever," I said resigned as I decided to just wallo in my breakfast.
"He cares for you, sweetheart. He still does," mom said before she drank her coffee and studied my reaction.
I didn't react.
He's a master in the art of deceit.
"He stayed up all night and kept watch over you honey. He kept replacing the wet towels on you, trying to bring down your fever."
My shocked expression betrays me.
Mom's slight expression of glee makes me regret it instantly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he only got one hour of sleep in."
I didn't say a word. I was too shocked to say a word.
And here I was thinking he'd been having a grand time watching me call out for me as he recorded it on his phone.
Oh, how wrong could I be?