Allie pounded her fist on the chipped wood as hard as she could without drawing blood; noticing the small splinter sticking out of her middle finger, she realised it may be too late for that. Frowning, she carried on her assault, smiling apologetically as an unhappy looking guy with glasses stuck his head out of the room next door and glared at her before slamming it with enough force to make the wall shake.

"Lara!" she hissed. "Opening the fucking door!"

Giving up, she turned the door knob and sighed with relief when it opened, throwing herself into the room and directly over the heap of boxes stacked haphazardly behind the door. Trying not to acknowledge the pain shooting through her big toe, she hopped further into the room, noticing the light from underneath the bathroom door.

"Lara!" she shouted. "I need your help, I think I've killed someone!"

"What?" the red head shot back. "Allie, is that you?"

"Well its not the ghost of Christmas past, is it?" she hissed. "Get out of the shower and help me! Or at least give me an alibi?"

"Um..." Lara hesitated. "I uh...I've just put my conditioner in and..."

Allie frowned, looking at the door as though she were insane. What the hell was she doing in there? Starting towards the door, she tripped on yet another pair of shoes, bending down to pick them up, she lifted her arm to hurl one of them at the door when she noticed something was wrong.

Trainers.

Men's trainers.

Harry's trainers.

"Ewwww," she dropped the shoe and stared at the door backing slowly out of the room. "Ewwww, ewwww, ewwww, ewwww, ewwwww!"

Hearing her brothers laughter from behind the door, she shook her head and clapped her hands over her ears.

"I hate you both," she called, rushing back into the hallway and slamming the door behind her.

Ok, that she could deal with tomorrow, right now all that mattered was Pete. Who may be dead. Or brain damaged.

"As if he wasn't already," she mumbled to herself, stepping back into her dimly lit room and leaning back against the wall.

She had impressed herself with her ability to half drag him across the room and place him on her bed; his legs were too long and hanging off the side, one of his arms dangling down and brushing the door. His eyes were still shut and showed no sign of movement.

"Pete?" she tried meekly. "You ok?"

Rubbing her hands over her face, she grabbed the towel and first aid kit from one of the unpacked boxes and sat down gently on the edge of the bed, careful not to jar him. Tentatively wiping the small smudge of blood away, she couldn't help but notice how good looking he was. Good looking didn't do hum justice really, the man was gorgeous. She'd known that from their exchange in the bar but here, up close, she could really see it.

He was perfect.

Yeah, until he opens his mouth, her brain reminded her with a snort.

Peeling open a plaster, she smoothed it over the small cut on the top of his forehead and let her fingers linger there for perhaps a second longer than necessary. What? The guy was an asshole but she was only human.

Standing up, she brushed her hands on her dressing gown and picked up a pair of boxers and her battered Glastonbury t-shirt, diving into the bathroom quickly to change, peeking around the door frame every two seconds to make sure he was still there.

Padding back out, she flopped down on the end of the bed and sighed. So this was her first night at university? Her best friend was shagging her brother and a drunk asshole, albeit a good looking one, was passed out on her bed. Laughing to herself, she stared up at the ceiling and shook her head.

She shouldn't have expected any less.

Pete blinked a few times and winced as a sharp pain shot down the centre of his forehead and behind his left eye; Jesus, for a tiny little thing, she had some serious muscle to hit him as hard as she did. He wondered briefly if it would need stitches.

Snorting, he pulled himself as upright as he could without feeling dizzy.

"Nah, mate," he told himself. "What you need is a beer, stitches can wait,"

It was then he notices his surroundings; the lilac walls, the long black book case, the candle holders nailed to the walls, the weird looking bottles strewn everywhere, the giant poster proclaiming that everyone should own coco Chanel. Was that a rich kid cereal or something?

The glass beaded lamp next to him cast a warm glow over the room and it was then, glancing down that he saw her.

She was flat out, one arm over her stomach, the other stretched above her head. The t-shirt she was wearing had ridden up slightly, exposing her flat stomach and what looked to be a tiny tattoo low on her hip.

You think you know a girl...

Sitting up and swinging his legs gently off the side of the bed so as not to wake her, Pete caught his refection in the mirror and frowned.

"They were all I had,"

Allie's voice tore him away and he stared down at her from where she lay smirking sleepily at him; oh yeah, that was certainly helping things.

Reaching up and running his fingers over the Spongebob Squarepants plaster, he laughed and shook his head.

"And don't you dare complain," she pointed at him. "You've already put me through enough shit to last a lifetime,"

"You what?" Pete laughed at her. "I'm not the one walking around braining people, love!"

"You jumped through my window at 3am, what did you want me to do? Shine your shoes and make you pancakes?" she caught the smirk on his face and growled. "Don't you dare answer that!"

"So I make an innocent mistake, get knocked out and she's yellling at me?" he shook his head, ignoring the pain that shot through it as he did so. "I should have known you'd be high maintenance as soon as you told me your shirt cost more than my first motor,"

"Hey!" she shouted. "I just saved your sorry arse so how about a thank you?"

"Thank you?" he shouted back. "You were the one who bloody knocked me out."

"You deserved it, you could have been a rapist,"

"I could have been the second coming of Jesus for all you fucking cared, I didn't stand a chance,"

"Well then next time, knock!"

"On what? The floor? The window was open and I thought this was my room,"

"Well then learn to count, because it clearly isn't!"

"Are you done being a princess yet because I really want to get some sleep,"

"Princess?" Allie shrieked. "You break my lamp, ruin my shirt, break into my room, mess up my sheets with your big stupid trainers and I'M being a princess?"

Pete took the opportunity to have a real look around her room, his eyes landing on the book case and widening when he spotted a small worn looking book on the end. He'd know it anywhere.

"And then I have to clean up your blood like some rabid dog that got shot in the street and..."

"Where'd you get that?"

Allie stopped instantly and blinked. His tone was so different she wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

"Huh?" she followed his gaze but was unable to see what he was gawking at.

"That's a first edition CS Lewis," he stumbled over, his feet still wobbly after his knock. Reaching out, he picked the small book up and shook his head. "How the fuck did you get your paws on this?"

He flicked open the first page and a small picture fell out, it showed a young woman, stunning and the spitting image of Allie sat on under a tree with a little girl in her lap, no older than 5. They were both smiling at the camera, all white teeth and glittering eyes. If he didn't know it was so genuine, it would have sickened him to the core.

"It was hers," Allie gestured to the woman in the picture. "My mum,"

"Well do me a favour and ask her how the fuck she managed to pull this one off, because first editions are like gold dust,"

Allie smirked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"You read?"

"Yes," he fought back a laugh, snatching the picture back out of her hand. "Cheeky sod,"

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.." she laughed. It was the first genuine laugh he'd heard from her and he hated what it did to his heart rate. "I just...my mum got me into all the classics, she was the flower power sort, you know, an educated woman is the most powerful kind,"

Pete caught the past tense and instantly felt guilty; looking down at the photo once more, he caught the date underneath it.

Last summer with mum, 1990.

"You reckon she was right?" Pete teased her.

"I don't reckon she was wrong," Allie laughed. "Funny thing is, she could get away with murder with her looks, but she never realised it."

"Must run in the family," he smiled at her. A real smile. Her heart thumped and she laughed nervously, taking the picture back from him and sliding it into the front cover once more before place it gently back on the shelf.

"That almost sounded like a compliment," she squited at him. "Christ, how hard did I hit you?"

"Hard enough for me to never try that again." he nodded towards the window. "A rapist, huh?"

"At the very least," she shook her head vehemently causing him to laugh again.

Spotting the smashed lamp on the table next to her bed, he winced and pointed at it, noticing this time when she rolled her eyes, she did so with a smile on her face.

"Its fine," she shrugged, picking it up and waving it in his face. "Its bohemian..."

"Look," he started with a laugh. "If I was a twat..I-..."

"Ok!"

They both turned to stare at the red head who had burst into the room, clutching a bin bag and some air freshener.

"I'm late but I'm here...and as for me shagging your brother...I can explain," she paused. "I shagged your brother."

"That much I got," Allie shook her head in disgust.

"So where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"The dead body," Lara shrieked. "Hello!"

"Uh..." Pete waved at her. "I'm guessing thats me,"

"He's alive," Allie told her.

"Hmmm...you sure?" she grinned at her best friend. "I think one of us should give him CPR just in case,"

"Aaaaand we're done here," Allie ran forward and practically shoved her into the hallway.

"I might be shagging your brother but at least he has a pulse," was the last thing that echoed through the room before the door slammed shut. Allie leaned against it and tiredly ran a hand through her hair.

"Lara," she smiled tightly. "Best friend, sister, royal pain in the arse,"

"I like 'er," Pete laughed. "She's an accquired taste,"

"That's one way of describing her," Allie snorted. "I uh...think you better get some rest," she handed him another spongebob plaster and he laughed. "Just in case,"

"Thanks for..." he frowned. "Thanks,"

"Anytime," she grinned, opening the door for him.

"So do I still have to stay the hell out of your way?" Pete smirked at her.

"Yes," Allie told him deadpan. "You're a liability and also a pain in the arse."

"I'm charming as fuck though," he cocked his head. "I mean, come on..."

"Goodnight, Pete," she laughed, closing the door. "See you around,"

Pete grinned as he started down the hallway, pulling the gold, beer soaked shirt from under his jacket.

"Probably sooner than you think, princess,"

Aaaand review ;) xx