“You are so fucking rude.” I say, because now I am losing my patience.
“Amen.” He says and gets up from the chair. “And on that point, I am going to bed.”
“Drink your bleeding water.” I snarl out. He hasn’t even touched the glass.
“Fuck you.” He hisses.
“What the hell did I say now?” I shout, because it’s getting like that. Uncomfortable and I am now pissed off and hurt and annoyed. Because for a while there we have actually been having a nice conversation.
“Just go home, Louis.” He sighs.
“Not leaving.” I reply back, which makes him turn around and sigh loudly. Again. He sighs a lot, it seems.
He’s quite impressive standing there, in a pair of plain skin-tight y-fronted boxers. Nice package. I look. Of course, I fucking look.
He’s pale, but nicely shaped. Far too skinny for his length, but has nice arms. Lovely chest. Hairless and cute little nipples. And that mass of blond curly hair that is sticking out at all angles despite that he has tried to get it into a messy topknot. I would say he’s handsome, if not for that angry scowl on his face.
“Jonas won’t kill you for not staying until the morning. Just get your fucking clothes on and leave.”
“Jonas will kill me if you end up dead with an undiagnosed aneurism. “
Pontus won’t die from an undiagnosed aneurism. Pontus is perfectly fine, but he is pissing me off and I am not backing down. Because I am bloody evil when I am angry, and he has offended me, in what way I can’t really explain right now because I am too busy trying to figure out what the hell is going on, and he is too busy stomping down the hallway and slamming his bedroom door shut.
And he hasn’t drunk his bloody glass of water.
Which only means one thing. I will have to go and force him to drink it. Threaten to call Jonas. Threaten to bundle him into my van and take him to hospital and sweet talk the nurses into giving him a drip. Which they would, because dehydration is not something you mess around with and his bloods were shite. Jonas texted me an hour ago, when he got the results back. This Pontus is a mess, and someone has to sort him out.
What a fucking Valentine’s night this is turning out to be.
It’s not my job. He’s not my responsibility. This is not my place, but I like a challenge. That’s what I tell myself as I grab the glass and let my angry footfall echo down the hallway towards his bedroom.
Chapter Five
Pontus
I don’t even hear him coming down the hallway before the bedroom door shoots open and slams back against the wardrobe with an alarming bang.
Yeah, because there he is and my heart jolts out of my chest as I kind of fly out of bed as he slams a glass of water down on my bedside table, then walks around the bed and lets the damn apron fly onto the floor, and then...
Yes.
He lifts my duvet up and gets into my bed. Actually,intomy bed.Naked.
His naked arse is against my sheets in my bed.My Bed.
Which apparently makes me shriek like a banshee and stomp my feet. Totally rational. Sane.
“Get the fuck out of my bed.” I shout.
“Pontus. Calm down. I am not going anywhere until you have drunk that glass of water. I will be watching. And anyway, your bed is nice and warm, and I can quite happily wait here. Like forever.”
“You are such a fucking dick.”
“Sue me.”
“Oh, believe me, I will. Your skinny arse is trespassing, squatting, sexual harassment…”
“Oh, get real, twatface. I just need you to drink that glass of water, and me and my skinny arse will be out of here in a second. Just drink the damn water and I can text Jonas and you will never see me again once he gets here tomorrow morning. Promise. Because, believe me, I dislike being here as much as you hate that I’m here. I’m not made of stone, you know, and I amnotdoing this for you, I am doing this becauseJonasasked me to, so for once, get over yourself anddrink.”