Orphaned (Justin Bieber)

Chapter 11

Songs for this chapter;
Me, Myself, and I by G-Eazy
Bad Blood by NAO
You Don't Own Me by Grace

Maeve's POV

"By the way, I hope you enjoy your stay. I'll make it a good one." He smirked at me, gently resting one of his large hands on my hip.

I cocked a brow at him, giving him one of those, 'get your grubby little fingers the fuck off of me before you end up loosing a limb, bitch' looks. You know that one? He seemed to get the message before he raised his hands in surrender, but still one that annoying little smile that managed to tick me off.

"You know... Maybe I should have agreed to staying with Jason instead." I mumbled, more to myself, but loud enough for Justin to hear me none the less. His smirk dropped -yay- and he was suddenly giving me a hard, challenging stare.

"No take backs." He growled out.

"Oh really? Because, you know, his rooms right out there, I could just walk out the door right now and ask to switch roommates. He'd probably take me in without a questioned asked." I remarked, only trying to provoke him. And it worked.

"You won't be doing shit, sweetheart. You've already made your decision." He snarled, taking a few steps closer to me.

This bitch.

One minutes he's all 'I'll make sure you enjoy your stay, baby! I'm sorry for being mean to you.' And the next, he's all like, 'bitch back the fuck up I'm top dog 'round here and you do as I say. I don't give a fuck 'bout your feelings and shit.' Like, come on.

There is defiantly something wrong with this boy.

If he is planning on ever winning me over -which he's making very unlikely- than he better fix up that attitude of his.

I really should have thought it over a little bit more before I just blurted out his name. Sometimes I'm just so fucking stupid. "Honey," I began in a low tone, chuckling darkly, "you do not get to decide what I want or what I do. I'm not one of your little toys that you can manipulate however you want. No, no, no. You don't own me. No one does." I snarled, looking him up and down challengingly.

He scoffed lightly but decided to ignore me. Fine, be that way you little... No, no, I'm calm. I'm good.

A moment of rather awkward silence passed and had me shifting on my feet as I downcast my gaze to examine his bare feet.

Why are they so big?

Holy shit he got some long ass toes.

Justin suddenly cleared his throat, bringing my attention back up to his face. "Right, so here's the deal," he began, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "You have like one outfit. And, it's pretty fucking busted up so you are gonna have to wear some of my clothes for a while, just until we can buy you some new ones." He grumbled.

I glanced down, then recalled I had stole his clothes when I had attempted to escape. Oh, that reminds me. I looked up at his face, then noticed that his hair looked sticky and stiff, and there was a small line of drying blood on his forehead.

A light, almost nonexistent smirk painted itself across my face. Hm, not bad Maeve, not bad.

He must've noticed my gaze and furrowed his thick, dark brows in slight confusion. "What?" He questioned me unsurely.