Chapter 20

6K 194 129

It was a Sunday morning when you woke up to the sound of some loud ass rock music, hearing occasional screams. What the fuck?

You sat up on your bed rubbing your eyes until you were sure you could keep them open and probably looked stoned by now.

You reached for your phone and headphones, wanting to play your own music to overhear that loud noise, just to see that you forgot to charge it last night. 3% - Now this is great, you thought resigned letting out a heavy sigh.

You already knew that this day is going to be one of those were everything's gon be shit.

But you decided to not surrender fate this time. You stood up and went to the bathroom, brushing your teeth, smiling enthusiastically. By fake smiling you’re supposedly tricking your brain into actually releasing endorphins, which are supposed to make you feel happy for real – at least that’s what you’ve heard.

But as you were in the middle of taking a shower you just broke down and started crying for no reason. “Bro, why the fuck are you crying?” you asked out loud, watching your reflection in the mirror on the opposite side of the bathroom. “Stop, being ridiculous” you now said pointing with your finger at the reflection “you’re a strong mf.”

And somehow that actually made you stop crying. You wiped away your tears, washed your face, smiled at yourself and felt your mood switching immediately. Damn, my lashed be looking real good right now.

And with that you went down to the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast and there it was again. That loud “music”. You felt yourself growing really mad and when you remembered that this actually woke you up, you stepped out entering the front yard realizing that the music was coming from the Heffleys. I should have known that it’s Rodrick.

You quickly walked over ringing the doorbell, not caring about the fact that the only thing you were wearing were your plaid pajama pants and a simple black tank top. This man has seen you with a towel only on the first day you’ve met, so it’s not like this is a big deal.

Also, you knew exactly that there was no way his parents or brothers would open the door, since all of them spent Sundays with your parents at church first and then went to some penny arcade with Manny, Greg and his friend who had that funny bowl cut.

After ringing another two times you finally heard the music stopping and footsteps approaching the door. And there he was standing in the doorframe with his hair all messy, his face lightening up when he sees you. “Pixie, what are you doing here? Come in” he said smiling taking you by your hand pulling you inside.

And again, it was that stupid smile that made you forget for a second what you came here for. But then you’ve heard the music starting to play once again, and that was all you needed to remember how mad you actually were.

“You” you said pointing your finger at his chest, his gaze following it. “You woke me up!” you said angry, feeling your cheeks growing all red. “Do you have any idea what time it is?"

But instead of explaining himself he just reached for the small alarm clock standing in the hallway handing it to you. “I don’t know, tell me” he said smirking, looking down at you.

It was 1.15 pm. Shit.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes again. “Listen, I’m so sorry Rodrick.” you said putting away the clock. “I just- this just isn’t my day, I’m sorry.”

You watched the smirk on his face disappearing getting replaced by a concerned look. He didn’t say anything, instead he just pulled you into a tight hug. That calming, comforting hug that made you feel safe. “Hey, what happened?” he said carefully stroking your hair with his hand.

“I don’t know” you said calmly, trying your best to hold back the tears filling your eyes once again. “I guess it’s just one of these days” you said shrugging with your shoulders.

You slowly pulled back, his eyes observing every single one of your movements. “I’ll just go” you said quietly, “Don’t let me disturb you” you added putting on a small smile.

But when you were just about to leave you felt his hand gripping yours, making you turn back around and face him. “Did you really think that you could leave now, my sleeping beauty?” he said smirking at you.

You gave him a confused look. “You have band practice Rodrick. Seriously I think it’s better when I’ll just go. It’s fine. Really.” you said meaning it.

“They’ll be fine” he answered, leading you into the kitchen, “Also, you promised to watch us play. Now sit down and let me make you breakfast. And before you say it, no, won’t take an ‘I don’t want anything Rodrick, I’m fine, seriously’ for answer” he said imitating your voice.

“Hey, I don’t sound like that” you said crossing your arms to look offended, but not being able to hold back your smile. “But fine, go ahead then. I expect a five stars course chef Ramsay.”

You watched his smile widening. “Okay, so since you’re my highly-regarded guest, I’ll give you two options you’re allowed to choose from. You ready?"

You nodded your head and he went on. “Okay, so you can choose from; number one: un bol de céréales avec du lait chaud and number two is a little more prestigious but you know that I would do anything for you. It’s un bol de céréales avec du yaourt. Sooo, which one are you choosing?” He said with a grin.

You raised your eyebrows in disbelieve. “Did you just give me the choice between a bowl of cereal with warm milk and a bowl of cereal with yoghurt and said it in French to make it sound more prestigious? Wicked. Okay but, may I ask you how you prepare that cereal with milk? Like what do you put in first?”

His eyes widened at your question. “Of course, I put in milk first.”

You let out a shocked gasp. “You know that the only right way to do it is the other way around.”

“Whatever” he said rolling his eyes. “I mean you’re a 100% wrong but I won’t fight you. At least not today.”

“Okay, well so I think I’ll go with the yoghurt one” you said giving him your sweetest smile.

“You wish is my command” he said turning around preparing your breakfast.

It took him a whole 2 minutes to prepare your food, but the good will is what counts, right? His proud face expression irreplaceable, when he handed it to you. “Bon Appetite.”

“Thank you, sir” you said taking the food from him.

What could possibly go wrong? Rodrick Heffley x readerWhere stories live. Discover now