My Possessive Criminal

Capítulo Doce

Chapter 12

"Xanny? Xanny, you have to wake up. Xanny!" 

I groan and turn away from the really annoying voice, pulling my fluffy comforter over my head.

Wait, I didn't go to sleep with this over me...

It was probably Ameena.

"Xanny!" 

I growl and bury my head in the pillow - except now my lungs are suffocating.

"Xanthe, GET THE FUCK UP, THERE'S A FIRE!"

I shoot out of the chaise lounge, my mind all fuzzy and confused. 

I look around for protection - and for the fire - but in my haste to get out of there, my legs tangled up around the blanket and I fall onto the wooden floor.

"Where's the fire?!" I ask, looking around.

When everything looks pretty intact and normal to me, I glare up at a sheepish Ameena.

"Sorry, Xanny, but you wouldn't get your fat ass up. Now come on, your flight is in four hours and Arsen likes getting to the airport three hours earlier, so we're going to waste one hour sneaking you to the hospital," Ameena explains, adding an annoying triumphant smile in the end.

I huff out a breath and untangle my stupid legs.

Stupid blanket.

"He's still mad at me," I grumble, eventually getting up and making my way towards the washroom.

Which smells stupidly like Arsen.

Ameena tuts.

"Don't worry, he's probably over it now," Ameena shrugs. I raise an eyebrow at her and she sighs. "Actually, he's probably not. It takes a few days for Arsen to calm his anger down. Temper problems," She ends, shrugging.

My glare intensifies.

"I should give you a lesson on how to make someone feel better. I'll call it, 'Shut The Hell Up!'" I say, smiling sweetly at her before slamming the washroom door in her face.

I do my business, and - surprise, surprise - Red decided to visit my pants today, and looks like it'll be staying for the next seven.

I can't wait till I'm eighty-four when I won't have to worry about being a girl as often as I have to nowadays.

Maybe that explains why I'm finding everything stupid.

When do you not find everything stupid?

When you're not here.

Haha. You're not funny.

I quickly wash and freshen myself up, then stomp out of there.

Now that I'm aware of my friend, also known as Period, I feel like being extra, extra grumpy.

"What's wrong with you today?" Ameena asks, and I grunt in response.

"Bad cramps," I mutter, the pain very excruciating.

It's like Period is using a hammer to bang at my sweet, little stomach, without any guilt.

Who said your stomach was sweet or little?

Shut up!

"Oh, right. I'll get the acetaminophen. And, please sort out your grouch problems, Arsen is someone you would not want to mess with - period or not - when he's angry," Ameena exclaims. I laugh.