The Boy Who Sleeps On My Bedroom Floor

The Boy Who Sleeps On my Bedroom Floor- Part 26

“Do you remember making this?” I looked up from the photographs I had been sorting through to see what Luke had found. He was holding out a pillow case that I had made when I was about seven. I had painted my name across the fabric in the middle of it and it was surrounded my amateur, shaking paintings of flowers, hearts and some stick people who I could only assume were me and my parents.

“Of course I remember that! Oh god, that’s appalling,” I laughed. He grinned.

“I like it. You wouldn’t mind if I kept it would you?” He turned the material around in his hands and examined my seven-year old handiwork. “I think this would look great on my bed. I would even take it to college with me, show off how talented my girlfriend is. I’m sure-”

I lunged forward trying to grab the case from his hands.

“No!” I shrieked and he laughed, pushing me off of himself and standing up quickly and sprinting away from me and down the stairs.

“Come back! You are SO annoying!” My socks slipped on the floor as I tried to run after him.

“I love you, too!” He called over his shoulder as he sped through the kitchen and into the garden. “But you aren’t getting this back.”

He stopped at the edge of the pool, dangling the god-awful thing in the air teasingly. I panted as I stopped a few feet from.

“I swear to God... just give it back and no one gets hurt,” I said, trying to sound as menacing as I could and unable to keep the grin off of my face.

“Oh whatcha gonna do tough guy?” Luke smirked and started to fold the pillow case up. “I don’t want it getting creased or anything.”

I took a step forward. He took a step back.

“You are dangerously close to the edge of the pool, Mister. We wouldn’t want you to... fall in or anything now, would we?”

His bright eyes widened a little.

“You wouldn’t...”

“Wouldn’t I?” I asked and he looked me up and down. I took a few steps so I was standing right in front of him. I ran a hand up from his stomach to his chest. “Are sure about that?” I leaned in so my mouth was close to his ear. “I wouldn’t be if I were you.”

He turned his head so he could whisper into my ear. I felt his warm breath on my skin, his soft lips brushing against my ear as he spoke.

“Oh, you’re going to regret getting so close.” And in a split second he whirled me around and I was tumbling backwards through the air. I grabbed onto his forearms, becoming a dead weight as we fell and we both fell through the air and hit the water with a splash.

I gasped and spluttered as my head broke the surface and positively screeched with laughter. Luke broke the surface and triumphantly held up the soaked pillow case in his hand.

"I still have it! It's going in the wash and dryer when I get home and I'm going to keep it and cherish it forever, so there Emi-Sophia Carlye. You do not win!"

"I cannot believe you did that, Luke Brody Valentine!"

"You were going to push me in. I don't see why it's such a crime that I turned the tables and pushed you in. Besides, you grabbed me and we both ended up in the water fully clothed so I think we both lose here, don't you?"

"Ugh," I shot him a dirty look as I waded my way over to the steps to haul myself out. "I hate soggy clothes! And if this top is ruined because of you," I grabbed a fistful of my sagging, water clogged shirt, "I will actually kill you. And I can't go back in the house all wet, Lucille will murder me."