"Well, if you don't like it you can always go and find somewhere else to live."
Your cutting tone didn't go unnoticed. Van's eyes narrowed a little, the smirk falling quickly away but not for long. He folded his arms across his chest, fixing you wit...
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It's a bad idea. You know it is. But still you find yourself agreeing. Just fifteen minutes ago you were fuming with Van, incensed that he was likely sneaking around outside like some kind of creep spying on you and Tom. Now you're actually inviting him to stay, smiling sweetly at him as he implores you to forget about all the past animosity that's built up between the two of you and 'try again'.
You're not normally a soft touch and you can't quite believe how quickly Van's managed to charm you tonight. You're still suspicious about his excuses but for some reason all that annoyance and mistrust seems to be fading away, replaced by a curious excitement that's been steadily escalating ever since you took your seat opposite him in the kitchen to tend to his injury. Maybe it was the alluring warmth in that cheeky smile of his or the piercing depth of his cool blue eyes as his steady gaze had met yours, but your resolve at staying mad at him had dissipated faster than a cloud of smoke on a breezy day.
You'd even caught him blushing at one point for god's sake! That had been quite a sight to behold. You didn't think he was capable of showing that hint of vulnerability with the usual cocky way he strutted about like he was King Shit. Was it actually possible that Van McCann had a soft and sensitive side to him? One carefully hidden away behind that cool rockstar facade?
Of course you knew it was crazy to start exploring that possibility, especially when things were going so well with Tom and you'd both admitted that you liked each other as more than just friends. Tom was caring and dependable, thoughtful and sweet, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous... in fact he was everything that you needed in a man. But was he everything that you wanted?
That was what was really bothering you if you were being completely honest with yourself. The longer that you sat here on the sofa next to Van, so close that each time he fidgeted in his seat his thigh brushed up warm and tempting against yours, the harder it was getting to keep any thoughts of Tom in your head at all.
"So... what do you wanna watch then?" You ask eventually. You've already flicked through the whole Sky planner and you've not even been taking in anything that's on the screen.
You'd been relieved when Van had agreed to your suggestion that you should move into the living room to watch some TV whilst you waited for Bondy to arrive home. You were eager to move away from the proximity that you two had shared in the kitchen, but you hadn't been banking on Van sitting quite so close. You wondered whether he'd ever heard of the concept of personal space at all the way he sat with his legs splayed wide, man-spreading in such a way that you were hemmed in against the arm of the chair.
"Don't suppose you'd fancy watching the match highlights would ya? United played Spurs this afternoon. Thrashed 'em apparently."
You don't even have to answer, Van immediately chuckles as he sees your face scrunch in distaste. "Not a footy fan then I guess?"
"I'd rather dip my eyeballs in acid than watch football," you say dryly, logging into Netflix and bringing up the recommendations menu, starting to scroll through.
