The Thief's Revenge - Ch 29 [loser]

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Loser

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BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I curled up under the covers, desperate to stay beneath their warmth and not have to wake up.

'TIME TO WAKE UP Kayli AND receive instructions from Liam. IT'S A SUNNY DAY AND Twenty Seven degrees Celsius.'

My eyes shot open and I looked blearily around the main bedroom of the suite. I'd forgotten where I was. Memories of last night hit me; the karaoke, Liam carrying me back here... throwing up.

But I felt completely fine. My head was clear, my stomach - though a little hungry - was not doing flips anymore, which was the reason I'd thrown up in the first place. I sat up. What had that alarm meant? 'Receive instructions from Liam'? He wasn't even here. Unless he had slept in the single bed, in the other bedroom.

The door to the en-suite flung open. At first I felt shock jab at me but that was quickly replaced by a speeding up of pulse and a deep longing. Standing in the doorway was a wet, brooding Liam covered only by a towel around his waist. My eyes were riveted on the contours of his muscular upper body so it took me a while to realise that he was talking to me.

"Hung over?"

I couldn't help it. I smirked. "Nope. I'm young, fit and healthy."

His brows rose. "Then the spell worked? Amazing, I'd never tried it before so I wasn't sure of the effect."

He moved gracefully across the room and I watched his muscles bunch and shift with his movement. I felt an ache of longing. I wish that the whole incident could be simply forgotten, as if it had never happened. He pressed a button by the door and the curtains drew apart, revealing a marvellously sunny day. Blue sky, great white sun, the light glimmering on the harbour's waters. I got out of bed and walked to the window, excited to see some more beautiful views.

"What a fantastic day!" I exclaimed, looking back at him with a broad smile.

He frowned and scratched his head, his hair sticking up from his scalp. Taking one large step, he planted himself in front of me.

A chuckle escaped my mouth. "Nice hair," I teased.

He raised an eyebrow and leant toward me. "Dereo Eotivif."

Suddenly a tonne of dark emotions hit me. Loss, grief, guilt, loneliness, they all shot through me, choking off the positive ones. I looked up at him, now remembering how mad at me he was, with pain-filled eyes. I saw a flash of regret shoot across his face, quickly hidden.

"I guess the spell I'd done last night had done more than 'physically' heal you. It also shut out all the hurtful emotions." He glanced away, carefully not looking me in the eyes. "It's okay, I fixed it."

I scowled. "Your hair still looks stupid."

I was absolutely alarmed when he whipped off his towel and ran it over his hair, drying it and smoothing it down quickly. I bit my lip to stop myself from squealing out loud, my inner voice repeating, 'don't look down, don't look down'.

He lowered the towel away from his head and threw it onto the bed. His smile seemed to dare me to say something, or to tilt my head in a downward direction.

"Is that better?" His eyes gleamed with mischief as he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Don't. Look. Down.

"S-Sure," I said, completely flustered.

"Is something... bothering you?" His voice was angelic, purely innocent, while his eyes suggested darker things.

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