A/n : okie, ppl- don't get mad at me I know I've been gone for awhile, but
I couldn't help it- writer's block is mean n nasty shudders anyways, give
me feedback on what I've got so far. (I'm not sure if this will answer your
q's, but I'm working on that too.)
Enjoy
I couldn't believe it- it was him. The guy from all those strange dreams I used to get. Right there- staring at me like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe...
WHAT??!!
All of a sudden, I was pissed. I mean, who the hell did he think he was? Did he think he could just waltz into MY cottage, interrupting me from MY blissful sleep (after 5 hours on the Greyhound from hell) and looking at me like I was the worst scum on the earth? HAH. I don't think so, buddy.
With the best glare I could muster, I stood up and pulled my shirt down where it had gotten scrunched around my waist. As I glanced back at him, I saw a look of... disappointment? Cross over his features – which, unfortunately, were practically perfect- chocolate brown eyes, mussed up dark hair, with the prerequisite cute little bit falling into his eyes, to- die-for lips, which I noticed were now trying not to smile. Probably because he noticed that I was staring. In my defense, when a perfectly normal girl comes into contact with an absolutely gorgeous male, jerk or not, stares tend to be given.
I pulled my gaze from his mouth- okay, his lips- but they were incredible- and glowered at him for a few seconds as I thought of a really scathing way to get that really sexy smirk off his face.
"W-who are you?" Wait. Stop. THAT was my 'really scathing' response? Oh, yeah. I can totally seeing this guy quivering in his boots at the uncontrolled hate just rolling off my tongue.
This time I really did see a smirk – one of those 'I'm a badass' smirks that made me see a slightly red haze clouding my vision. Ooh. It would be so satisfying to slap that smile off of his godly face.
As if he could read my mind, he stepped closer to me so that now only about two feet separated us. His eyes held a challenge- almost like he was daring me to do something. Me, being ever so creative, decided I would show him who was boss by glaring at him. This seemed to only amuse him further, so I decided it was about time for him to find out why NOT to mess with Susannah Simon.
"Who the hell are you?" I repeated the same question he asked me adding a mocking tone to it.
"Why querida, I believe I asked you that first" The fact that his tone was just as mocking, if not more, only fueled my anger. It didn't help that I picked up on the very faint Spanish accent that only served to make him hotter.
"Hmm. How about you tell me your name and what you are doing in my cottage before I introduce you to my fist?" Okay, as far as threats go, that one ranked right up there with 'give me your lunch money. Or else', but I was too angry right now to care.
If he cracks even so much as a hint of a smile, I thought, itching to find a reason to hit him.
Apparently he finally picked up on my murderous vibes, because he took a step back and looked me over, like he was gauging my reaction or something.
"YOUR cottage?" He took one look at my face, then seemed to consider his options. Wisely, he decided that he liked his pretty face just the way it was, because two seconds later:
"Very well" and with a sigh and (an unnecessary, if you ask me) flourish, he flopped down on the sofa and looked up at me with a slight grin tugging at his lips. His gorgeous lips. JEEZ. Suze, get a grip.
"My name is Hector De Silva, but most people call me Jesse. And you are..."
When I heard the name Jesse, I froze – that was the name of the guy in my dreams. This whole scenario was totally starting to freak me out- and I don't freak out easily.
"Uh, um..." Did he just ask me a question? I'm pretty sure he did. As I glanced at him, I saw a self satisfied smile on that beautifu....STOP THAT. Argh. He probably thought I was having a hard time talking because he was in the same room as me. Cocky jerk.
"I'm Susannah Simon. Why are you here again?" I knew I sounded nasty, but I didn't care. This guy was seriously getting on my nerves- and I'd only met him 15 minutes ago!!!
Her eyes were sparkling and they gave off a kind of fire- fire directed at me. She looked incredibly pretty when she was mad. When she had gotten up off the floor after she fell and glared at me, I was slightly taken aback. Most girls tend to go into 'stare mode'; they just look at me and tend to sigh a lot. Not that I'm complaining, or anything, I can't deny it is incredibly boosting for my ego, but this... this outright hostility was a nice change. Of course I caught her staring now and then, but only because I was staring back. The best part was that she kept getting mad each time I look at her. Hmm, maybe I'll have fun wit this vacation after all.
A/n : well, I know its kinda a cliffie, but I'm working on it- these next few weeks if I don't update often- or at all blushes, don't give up on me- I'll be studying my a off to attempt to pass my classes- esp. math shudders but, in the meantime, do not forget to REVIEW. As in right now. Please smiles
ByE!!!
Enjoy
I couldn't believe it- it was him. The guy from all those strange dreams I used to get. Right there- staring at me like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe...
WHAT??!!
All of a sudden, I was pissed. I mean, who the hell did he think he was? Did he think he could just waltz into MY cottage, interrupting me from MY blissful sleep (after 5 hours on the Greyhound from hell) and looking at me like I was the worst scum on the earth? HAH. I don't think so, buddy.
With the best glare I could muster, I stood up and pulled my shirt down where it had gotten scrunched around my waist. As I glanced back at him, I saw a look of... disappointment? Cross over his features – which, unfortunately, were practically perfect- chocolate brown eyes, mussed up dark hair, with the prerequisite cute little bit falling into his eyes, to- die-for lips, which I noticed were now trying not to smile. Probably because he noticed that I was staring. In my defense, when a perfectly normal girl comes into contact with an absolutely gorgeous male, jerk or not, stares tend to be given.
I pulled my gaze from his mouth- okay, his lips- but they were incredible- and glowered at him for a few seconds as I thought of a really scathing way to get that really sexy smirk off his face.
"W-who are you?" Wait. Stop. THAT was my 'really scathing' response? Oh, yeah. I can totally seeing this guy quivering in his boots at the uncontrolled hate just rolling off my tongue.
This time I really did see a smirk – one of those 'I'm a badass' smirks that made me see a slightly red haze clouding my vision. Ooh. It would be so satisfying to slap that smile off of his godly face.
As if he could read my mind, he stepped closer to me so that now only about two feet separated us. His eyes held a challenge- almost like he was daring me to do something. Me, being ever so creative, decided I would show him who was boss by glaring at him. This seemed to only amuse him further, so I decided it was about time for him to find out why NOT to mess with Susannah Simon.
"Who the hell are you?" I repeated the same question he asked me adding a mocking tone to it.
"Why querida, I believe I asked you that first" The fact that his tone was just as mocking, if not more, only fueled my anger. It didn't help that I picked up on the very faint Spanish accent that only served to make him hotter.
"Hmm. How about you tell me your name and what you are doing in my cottage before I introduce you to my fist?" Okay, as far as threats go, that one ranked right up there with 'give me your lunch money. Or else', but I was too angry right now to care.
If he cracks even so much as a hint of a smile, I thought, itching to find a reason to hit him.
Apparently he finally picked up on my murderous vibes, because he took a step back and looked me over, like he was gauging my reaction or something.
"YOUR cottage?" He took one look at my face, then seemed to consider his options. Wisely, he decided that he liked his pretty face just the way it was, because two seconds later:
"Very well" and with a sigh and (an unnecessary, if you ask me) flourish, he flopped down on the sofa and looked up at me with a slight grin tugging at his lips. His gorgeous lips. JEEZ. Suze, get a grip.
"My name is Hector De Silva, but most people call me Jesse. And you are..."
When I heard the name Jesse, I froze – that was the name of the guy in my dreams. This whole scenario was totally starting to freak me out- and I don't freak out easily.
"Uh, um..." Did he just ask me a question? I'm pretty sure he did. As I glanced at him, I saw a self satisfied smile on that beautifu....STOP THAT. Argh. He probably thought I was having a hard time talking because he was in the same room as me. Cocky jerk.
"I'm Susannah Simon. Why are you here again?" I knew I sounded nasty, but I didn't care. This guy was seriously getting on my nerves- and I'd only met him 15 minutes ago!!!
Her eyes were sparkling and they gave off a kind of fire- fire directed at me. She looked incredibly pretty when she was mad. When she had gotten up off the floor after she fell and glared at me, I was slightly taken aback. Most girls tend to go into 'stare mode'; they just look at me and tend to sigh a lot. Not that I'm complaining, or anything, I can't deny it is incredibly boosting for my ego, but this... this outright hostility was a nice change. Of course I caught her staring now and then, but only because I was staring back. The best part was that she kept getting mad each time I look at her. Hmm, maybe I'll have fun wit this vacation after all.
A/n : well, I know its kinda a cliffie, but I'm working on it- these next few weeks if I don't update often- or at all blushes, don't give up on me- I'll be studying my a off to attempt to pass my classes- esp. math shudders but, in the meantime, do not forget to REVIEW. As in right now. Please smiles
ByE!!!
