LXIII.

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"Am I ready? Ready for what? What are you doing here, Arsen?"

I folded my arms across my chest and shifted on my feet. My initial irritation at seeing him standing in my doorway was quickly waning and began to transform into utter embarrassment as it dawned on me that I wasn't in the usual pristine state he usually saw me in.

As if the sweatpants weren't bad enough, I had barely done anything to the bird's nest on my hair after my dad killed my mood. I looked disgusting, and it would be quite a miracle if he wanted to continue seeing me.

"I'm here to take you to my house," he brushed past me, waltzing into my house as if I had invited him in. "You would have known that if you picked up my phone call after you so rudely hung up on me."

"I thought I made it clear that I had no plans of taking you up on your invitation," I said, patting a section of my wild hair down.

"Red, I'm not going to let you stew in your own misery alone on Christmas Day," he shrugged. "I'm just not. So stop being stubborn and let's go. Everyone's waiting for you, and let me tell you the longer the kids have to wait for the uglier they become. They don't mess around with their presents."

"You told them I was coming over?" I asked, absolutely exasperated. "Arsen!"

"Well, I had to ask my mom if it was okay, and she told me that if I didn't bring you over she would come herself," he gave me a pretty serious look. "You really don't want it to come down to that. Trust me."

I shook my head slowly and looked up at the ceiling. "You know, I really just want to be alone."

"Do you? Honestly?"

A deep sigh parts my lips and my eyes drop from the ceiling to his expectant face. It was unbelievably annoying when he was right, which happened to be most, if not all, the time. After a moment of deliberating whether or not I should flat out lie, I shook my head in resignation.

"That's what I thought. Now put on your shoes and let's go."

"Um, do I look like I can just go?" I asked, motioning to the horrific state I was in.

"What?" He looked me over. "What's wrong? You look good."

"I look good? What about me looks good? The fact that I am wearing sweatpants that do nothing for my figure, or the fact that that my hair looks like it hasn't seen a comb in ten years?"

"Juliet, you've never looked sexier in my opinion."

My body's first response was to send all the blood it had stored right up to my face. That was just automatic. Then, I rolled my eyes because I had a very heavy suspicion he was just humoring me.

"Right. Well, I'm still going to change. Wait here."

"Can you please be quick?" Arsen asked to my retreating back. "We're opening presents not attending a fashion show."

I waved a dismissive hand and disappeared into my bedroom.

Personally, I didn't think I took too long. In fact, I spent a significantly shorter amount of time then I usually did to get ready, skipping over multiple important steps I normally couldn't do without.

So, I found that Arsen's whole impatient demeanor as he waited sprawled out on one of the living room couches to be a tad bit dramatic.

"Oh, just stop it. I wasn't up there for that long," I said, planting my hands on my hips.

"It is going onto forty five minu-," he stopped short mid-complaint, and his eyes widened as they very obviously traveled up and down the length of my body. Multiple times. "Wow."

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