Sincerely, Angel [BxB]

46 | Bad Influence | Angel's POV

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~*~

I hear Drago's obnoxious alarm ring in some cheesy pop tone and I groan into the pillow. Why did I let him convince me to stay over on a weekday? This guy is getting up even earlier than me! Why?!

I refuse to open my eyes but I feel his hand caress my back before the mattress moves and he is no longer by my side.

That's ok. I'll get to sleep a bit more. I love sleeping! It's my most favourite hobby in the world! Even listening to my favourite glam metal singer can't beat it!

Speaking of music, when The All-American Rejects start playing from my phone, I know I'm fucked.

I let out a groan but lift my butt up anyway and drag my feet towards the bathroom. A nice cool shower does wonders in waking me up.

I wrap a towel around my waist, unlike the first time I spend the night here, but a guy learns from his mistakes. And just like last time, I see Mr. Pavlov when I exit the bathroom. Only this time he's a few steps away from me, about to go down the stairs, and wouldn't have even noticed me if I didn't let out an unmanly yelp when I saw him. Well, damage has been done.

"Good morning!" My lips form a nervous smile as Mr. Pavlov glares at me.

"Good morning," he grumbles.

"You don't happen to have a hairdryer lying around, do you?" I ask, acutely aware of my dripping wet hair. It would've probably been better to track my boyfriend down and ask him. Too late for that now.

Mr. Pavlov stares at me for a few long seconds before responding, "I'll lend you Natalia's."

He goes back in what I presume is his and Natalia's bedroom, and returns a minute later with a hairdryer in hand.

"Here you go." He places it in my outstretched hand, the usual grumpy expression permanently residing on his grey-bearded face. I wonder if it's just me he's scowling at like that or he's miserable by default. What could a rich man like him possibly be unhappy about? He has a gorgeous wife, a decade younger than him, a son that isn't a total fuck up, two lovely grandchildren... What else could he possibly need?

I realise I've been staring for a bit longer than necessary so I mumble a "Thanks" and frantically hide back in Drago's room. Honestly, this man gives me the creeps. It's like he's scrutinising my very soul every time I'm around him.

I dry my hair, using my fingers to comb it through. I don't know what it is but I just can't use someone else's comb. Not even my boyfriend's. I'm not as shy to borrow a pair of his underwear though, light blue briefs of a famous designer brand that hug my junk so much better than any of mine, I'm definitely putting them on my shopping list.

I slip on my uniform, noticing I've accomplished to stain my sweater after just a day of wearing it. Thankfully, the substance isn't white but something that resembles more of the barbecue sauce I bathed my French fries in yesterday.

I huff and go through my backpack out of habit, securing my hair behind my ear as I do so. It has started to get in my eyes but I'm scared that if I let my aunt give me a haircut she'll end up cutting more than I'm willing to part with. Maybe Gabriel would be more considerate.

Right as I check which textbooks I have present and what subjects we have today, my boyfriend enters the room, his deliciously wet body wrapped in a royal blue bathrobe. I gawk at his bare collarbone, feeling like planting kisses all over his neck, but I opt for a smile instead. "Good morning!"