Can I Have #13 With Roger?

Can i have #13 with Roger?

13) “I will bite you.”

“This is a sick joke,” you state.

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” your best friend, Brian, says as he rolls his eyes.

“Can’t I just share a room with you?” you plead. Brian raises his brows.

“You want to share a room with me…and Chrissie?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation.

“Y/N…” Brian begins with a sigh. “It’s for one night…just please, behave.” You sputter with indignation.

“Tell him that!” you say, pointing an aggressive finger towards the blonde drummer who currently has a shit-eating grin on his face. He wiggles his fingers at you as he leans against the door’s threshold. You scoff before grabbing your duffle bag.

“You know you look like an idiot who doesn’t know how to use his legs when you stand like that,” you hiss before stomping up the stairs and into your now shared room.

“Bitch!”

“Dick!”

Brian pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “You are children,” he mutters, more to himself.

“Thank you Bri. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go have a smoke,” Roger says with a dazzling smile before heading off outside.

When Roger comes back into the room, you’re already in your pajamas and under the covers. The drive, having taken a toll on you––that and the fact that you pulled an all nighter the night before, trying to finish an essay for your psych class. You hear him shuffling around the darkness before making his way to the bed and slipping underneath the covers. He smells of the night air and cigarette smoke, and you hate how you get comfort from it.

“If you so much as touch me in your sleep, I will bite you,” you hiss.

“Is that a promise?” he asks. You can feel him smiling at you. You huff before rolling over.

––––––––

You slowly stir awake. The warmth enveloping you making it difficult for you to open your eyes. Something tickles your forehead, and you try to roll over, but something tightens its grip on your waist. And then you hear a low mumble coming from somewhere way too close to you. You open your eyes and with horror, realize the comforting warmth that lulled you to sleep was in fact Roger. You realize with horror that you’re waking up with your head facing his chest and tucked underneath his chin and his arm draped across your waist.

“Roger!” you shriek, sitting up and slapping his shoulder.

“Wha––huh?” he asks, bolting straight up, hair sticking out in all directions, and frantically looking around. You would have laughed if you weren’t so flustered.

“You’re on my side!”

“Uh, actually, you’re on my side,” he says. You look down, and…he’s right. When he finally regains his bearings, a smirk begins to spread slowly across his face. He opens his mouth.

“Oh shut up.”

He raises his hand in mock surrender. “I was just going to say,” he pauses, and you narrow your eyes. “You still up for that biting you promised?”

You hurl a pillow at his head.

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