Secret Spy Diaries #Wattys2016

The Next Day.

A/n:

Yeah, I suck at naming chapters. 

Anyway. 

 Here it is-

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As I wake up groggily the next morning, the events of last night replay in my head and as I look at the mirror, I can see a tinge of pink on my cheeks. Though I realized last night that I might be falling for Jake, I am not sure if I have accepted it. But if there's one thing I am sure of, its that I am really, really happy this morning, because of reasons that I don't know of. Its weird, because I am usually so...serious and sarcastic, but feeling happy feels nice for a change. The weather suddenly seems so pleasant and I suddenly begin liking the wind and it makes me go to the balcony, and wanting to shout and tell everybody that I am in love.

Except I don't want Jake to know it.

I mean, come on! How embarrassing is it going to be? He'll probably think I am still not over my teenage love. I know love is a strong emotion and I shouldn't probably be throwing the word around so casually. But I am pretty sure that what I feel for Jake is not just...attraction or lust. I want to be with him, I want to stare into his chocolate brown eyes till death, I want those little kisses on the forehead and maybe some on the lips too.

I am now grinning sheepishly, just at the thought of kissing Jake, thinking about how great it will feel to have his lips crashing against mine, about how wonderful it will be; us kissing till we are breathless

Great. Now I am thinking like the heroine of a romantic novel.

Who would have thought.

And since I have kissed Jake in high school, I know how wonderful a kisser he is. And the same feeling of kissing Jake is something I distinctly remember, which makes me want to do it again, and again, and again.

My legs decide to walk towards Jake's room on their own. I know he is probably sleeping, as he, just like Amy, is a late riser. But to my surprise, I see that he is not in his bed, but in his shower. I slowly enter his room which is basically at the end of a hallway that separates our room and his. His room is quite neat, with his medical journals and case files stacked neatly on his table on my left. He has two wooden shelves just next to his table, and the washroom is at the opposite side of the room. His bed is in the middle, with two nightstands on each side. Our room is pretty much the same, just messier.

I can hear that he is singing in the shower, and I want to laugh so bad, because he is not that good a singer. Hell, he is horrible. I suddenly remember that he likes coffee in the morning, and since I haven't had mine yet, I think it's a good idea to make some.

I tiptoe silently from his room to the kitchen, which is stocked with minimal cooking equipment. I look for the coffee maker and thankfully find it under the counter. It looks unused and new.