Too Much To Hide || EDITING

c.13

My electricity bill is going to ruin me. Adrian and I are back in my house, where all the lights are left shining behind their glass lampshades. I managed to time our ride here and it turns out he lives a good while away from the town, where I live near.

I promptly flick all the switches, making sure I don't leave a single light on. On my couch, where baby James slept for a few moments yesterday, Adrian sits and takes a look around my simple living room. It's not lavish like his, with diamond chandeliers hanging from every ceiling or full size portraits pinned to my walls, but quite peaceful and, well, simple.

"So..." He trails off, his arms spread wide across the head of my couch, "What do you do for a living?"

I readjust some photo frames on my Ikea shelf as I express a quick shrug.

"I don't exactly work," I mumble, "I used to be a baker downtown in Sally's Goods until I resigned to spend some time doing other things,"

"What are those other things?" He raises a curious brow, genuinely leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees.

My face lights up at the thought and a fond smile crosses my features.

"Reading. Writing. Oh, God, I love writing," I sigh wistfully and leave the frames alone to wonder over to my stone mantelpiece just opposite Adrian.

"So you're one of those typical reader girls?" He scoffs and rests against the couch, leaning the side of his head on the heel of his palm.

"Typical? What does that mean?"

"It's just stereotypical." He smirks.

Hinting the tease in his voice, I beat down a smile that threatens to ruin my mock-anger and lean over to grab a stylish bean bag to throw at him. It bounces off his shoulder but he sits still, unfazed by my attack.

"You have very poor co-ordination skills,"

Adrian rolls his eyes, "Or maybe I knew that a bean bag wasn't going to hurt."

"Oh!" I laugh out. "Imagine it being shot out of a grenade launcher then!"

"Bean bags and grenade launchers do not match, love." He says plainly, as if he's stating a well-known fact. I blush at his endearment and shake my head, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind my ear.

"Oh-would you like some tea?" My polite manners hit me like a truck.

"Do you have coffee?"

"Uh, I think I might," I look in the direction of the kitchen and head through the open threshold, beholding its sunny appearance.

My kitchen is a fun haven. All I need to occupy or pleasure myself is always kept in the kitchen. Food, drinks, you name it. It's my own sacred corner of the house where strangers do not trespass but Adrian hovers over me as I open up the cabinets underneath the countertops.

"Need something?" I question sharply.

His eyebrows shoot up in shock at my hostile snap but soon crease to complement his growing smirk.

"I'm not going to piss in your territory, don't worry, ma'am." He states as he aimlessly wonders around, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.

His pinstriped jacket is back on and his shirt buttons have been tightened once more. Just an hour ago, Adrian broke the ice and told me about Lucy but he acts as if nothing has happened. I admire his oblivious nature but fear that it won't last too long.