𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ✔️

Chapter Sixteen

When I woke up as Alessia Trent, though in Dylan's bed, I felt a bittersweet kind of emotion seep into my body. Looking beside me, I saw that Dylan was not there; not under the covers, his warm body close to mine. I frowned, sitting up to see him still sleeping on his blow-up bed. Maybe he doesn't hate blow-up beds as much as I thought.

I reached over to where I left my phone to charge on Dylan's bedside table, switching it on and seeing the time as ten to twelve. My eyes widened; his mum is sure to be home by now.

I slipped off Dylan's bed, quietly making my way to his bathroom so that I could go to the toilet and freshen up slightly. When I was looking for some deodorant, I found a bottle of my favourite perfume. So that's where that half-full bottle disappeared to. I had forced my dad to buy the very rare perfume, which was my favourite scent when he next went on holiday to Cuba since it had gone missing. He had brought it back from there a year before my parents had divorced and I had been in love with it ever since.

If I ever wake from this body, I will march around Dylan's house and steal my bottle back. Maybe Dylan didn't know it was here but, if he did, I'm confused to why he wouldn't give it back.

I shrugged, reaching out for the bottle and spraying it a few times across Dylan's top, and also once on my neck.

When I was finished in the bathroom, I unlocked the door and walked out, which is what woke Dylan up.

"Afternoon," I said as I sat down on the end of Dylan's bed, unplugging my phone.

He grunted, "What?" He asked, rubbing at his face. I smiled, extending my arm out to show him the time displayed on Alessia's phone. His eyes widened, as mine had done, and he scrambled out of his bed and into the bathroom.

I laughed, getting up and folding up his sheets and leaving them on the end of his bed before leaving his bed to deflate.

When he came out of the bathroom, he was brushing his hair back with his fingers, something that Alessia found cute.

"My mum should be asleep by now," he told her, which was something I already knew but nodded along to anyway. "And she's a pretty deep sleeper, so we just have to be quiet as we walk downstairs, and I can make you something to eat." He said before he blitzed around the room, collecting any rubbish from last night.

As he did that, I stripped his bed of the sheets I had used last night, throwing them in the laundry bin before getting some fresh ones from out of under his bed.

As I was dressing the pillows, Dylan appeared on the other side of the bed, straightening out the duvet.

"How did you know where to find the new sheets?" Dylan asked, frowning over to me as he picked up another pillow.

I swallowed, ignoring his eyes. "I just guessed...my bed has the same feature." It was a lie of course, from both ends; neither I—Olivia Clark—nor Alessia kept fresh sheets under our beds. I just knew it, as Olivia Clark, from being friends with Dylan for so long. I had been around his house and slept in his bed many times.

When his bed was freshly made, we made our way downstairs. I sat at the kitchen island as Dylan made bacon sandwiches—his favourite.

"This is my favourite," he told me, throwing another rasher into the pan.

I grinned, "Well I love bacon, so." He smiled, unwrapping a new loaf of bread.