Chapter Vienticuatro

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A/N: slightly mature contents ahead again; nothing too graphic, I'm sure y'all have read worse on here lol

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"We're not going back to our rooms."

"Then where are we going?"

"You'll see."

A hotel driver was waiting for us when we left the building and Eli gestured for me to go inside, while he gave an address to the driver.

"If you're planning on taking me to the woods to kill me, a little heads up would be nice, could have brought some running shoes with me, give me a fair chance you know", I mentioned, once the driver sped off.

"Trust me princess, I'd much rather fuck you in that dress, than kill you in it", he whispered, low enough so the driver wouldn't hear us, as he placed a hand on my leg.

"Nice to know", I responded, giving him a side eye and a smirk.

Moments later, the driver stopped in front of a KFC.

"How the hell did you?"

"You had barely touched your plate of food, and I've seen how much you actually like to eat back home", he shrugged off, as he got out of the car, lending a hand for me to come out as well.

"We are way too overdressed to go in there", I said more-so to myself, looking down at the red bustier dress I had on.

Eli took my hand and pulled me in anyway. Luckily, the place wasn't too packed, and the people that were there didn't care enough to give us a second glance.

We ordered a bucket of wings and took a seat in one of the booths.

"How did you know I would even like KFC?"

"First of all, who doesn't like KFC? Second of all, you ordered chicken, which I know you like, which meant you probably felt like having chicken tonight", he responded matter of factly.

I hadn't realise how observant he was of small things, like what I liked to eat or how much of it I did eat. I wasn't used to it.

Sure, I hooked up with guys occasionally, but I'd never actually committed to someone. I guess being moved from home to home your whole life kind of screws up your notion of commitment.

Our order came in and I immediately digged in. I didn't care that eating fried chicken was messy. You couldn't fully enjoy the beauty of it, while simultaneously trying to look good eating it. I had never believed in the notion of eating pretty anyway, what kind of guy gets turned off by a girl that does something so normal like eat?

I looked up to see Eli staring at me, his fingers free of any chicken grease, "uh, you going to eat or just stare at me, Edward Cullen?"

He smiled and grabbed a piece of chicken, "sorry, I was just a little mesmerized by your beauty."

"Oh, shut up", I playfully rolled my eyes at him, but couldn't help but smile.

"You don't seem the shy type" he commented, his strong gaze back towards me, rather than the greasy goodness in his hand.

"No I'm not, not usually anyway," I affirmed, before adding, "you are though."

"What?" he asked, taken back by my sudden analysis.

"You are, the shy type I mean, you like to have this tough exterior with your glare and all your tattoos, but you're actually very reserved and timid."

"Alright calm down there Mrs. House, no need to psychoanalyse me", he joked, but I knew I had hit the mark.

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