Bon Voyage

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Jade

Noise wakes me at 5:36 in the morning. It takes me a few seconds to orient myself to the unfamiliar surroundings. I'm not used to the mostly quiet, so the footsteps and the sound of a suitcase being wheeled down the hall seem louder than they probably are.

Perrie must be leaving for the airport. We said good-bye last night, but I'm suddenly very awake, and alert. I won't see her for five weeks. I stare at the ceiling while I listen to her tooling around in the kitchen, trying to decide if I should get up and say goodbye again or stay where I am. My foof decides for me. It wants a visual hit of Perrie before she leaves for the next month.

I throw off the covers and tiptoe to the bathroom, blind myself with the light and check myself out in the mirror. My hair's pretty screwed and I have puffy sleep eyes, but otherwise I'm fine. Well, fine-ish. I rinse with mouthwash, and finger-comb my hair so it doesn't look like I'm trying too hard, but I also don't look like a troll, either. I clear my throat and find it doesn't hurt anymore, and my stomach actually rumbles.

Opening my bedroom door a crack, I peek out. Light filters down from the kitchen. I shiver as I walk down the hall, the hardwood floor cool beneath my feet. I'm definitely not accustomed to the air-conditioning. Two black suitcases come into view as I approach the foyer.

And then there's Perrie. Holy hell, is this girl ever not hot? She's standing at the kitchen counter, writing something on a piece of paper, dressed in a black pantsuit, completed with a tie, her curvy figure making it look absolutely fantastic. Her hair is styled, the golden locks in perfect curls. They look so soft and silky, and I want to run my fingers through them.

"Hey." My voice comes out all gravelly, possibly from sleep, possibly because I'm thinking about how fun it would be to peel that suit off of her. With my teeth. And get to all the good stuff underneath.

Her head jerks and she glances up to where I'm standing at the edge of the hallway, half in the dark. I step into the foyer and her eyes flare, sweeping over me.

"I didn't mean to wake you." Her voice matches mine in rasp. She reaches up and adjusts her tie. Her hand smooths over the shock of electric blue fabric that matches her eyes. I follow the movement, watching as she fastens the button of her jacket. She was dressed similarly at the engagement party, but I didn't have an opportunity to appreciate it the way I can now.

I've been staring and she's said words. I'm also biting my knuckle. I release it from my teeth. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to hearing traffic, so the silence is going to take some time to get used to."

Her eyes keep darting down and then back up to my face. They seem to stay down longer and longer each time.

I follow her gaze trying to figure out what the deal is when I realize that my current attire isn't all that appropriate. I'm wearing a white tank top, which isn't a problem, it covers all my important parts – aside from my perky nipples. What I didn't take into consideration was the fact that my bottom half is covered only by a pair of underwear. At least they're full coverage. They also happen to be lacy, since they were the only pair I could find in my semi-sleepy haze last night. I've worn less during dance competitions, but contextually, this isn't awesome. Or maybe it is considering the way she doesn't seem to be able maintain eye contact any better than me.

"Oh." I drop my hands and cover my crotch, as if that's going to help. "Uh. I'll be right back."

Perrie's eyebrows climb a little, and a half smile appears as I turn and rush down the hall, with my hands shielding my ass.

"Don't feel compelled to put more clothes on for my benefit," she calls after me.

I grab my robe from the back of the bathroom door – one of the very few items I unpacked last night before I passed out – and shrug it on. On the plus side, my cheeks now match the color of the flowers decorating my robe, so at least I'm coordinated. I return to the kitchen where Perrie is now sipping a cup of coffee. She regards me over the rim of her cup, her amusement apparent in the arch of her brow.

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