Chapter 24

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Inferno

     "I am calling the nearest mental hospital and having your fatass admitted!" Inferno hissed as she aimed her gun at the snoring Rouhem who decided it normal to practically lay on top of her while she slept. Her mind was attempting to waken, but her body was one stubborn son-of-a-bitch. 

      "I will not tolerate body shaming!" Rouhem muttered, rolling away with the sound of soft springs creaking, putting a decent amout of space between them. If he was so tired, how did he manage to remove both his shoes and socks?

     Inferno looked over at the digital clock on her bedside table while putting the gun down in attempt to distract herself from staring at the inch of skin shown from his lifted shirt. The blaring red numbers caused her to groan. Much too early to whoop ass. "You do realize you are providing me with prime opportunity to shoot you in your--body shaming not intended--fat ass?" 

     He nodded before switching over onto his stomach which had not a hint of fat on it. His face was in her direction. Her nose caught the stream to his heavy breaths. "What the hell did you consume?" She shoved at his shoulder, surprised when he latched his hand onto her wrist. The warmth and soothing sensation worked against her own instinct to pull away. 

     Her breath froze when he lifted her hand to his nose and breathed in deeply. The look of satisfaction on his profile caught her off guard. He definitely was either drunk enough for the entire town or horrifyingly sleep-deprived. It could have been either option. "Fruit punch." 

     She scoffed at his mumbled answer. "With what drug?" His touch was far too distracting. 

     He scooted closer. The masculine scent drifting into her nose carried enough influence to calm her senses. "Not sure, I didn't ask the hobo when he offered it." Inferno had a feeling he was telling the absolute truth. Though she doubted he was dumb enough to actually do it.

     She laid her head on the mattress and studied his smooth, golden features. How could someone be so addicting to look at? It was times like these where he was guarenteed to not recall it when she could bask in his beauty. "Hobo is very offensive. Not politically correct at all..."

     His lovely lips formed a pout, like she popped a sour candy in his mouth. "My apologies to the person which willingly lives behind Denny's and begs for corndogs at the request of their adopted kitten called 'Bitchface'." 

      Inferno couldn't stop herself and touched one of his perfect curls. Silky and firm, thick and dark. Handsome. "What else did this hobo say?" 

     "He had proof that bigfoot was real but couldn't give it for 'the flashdrive was hacked and coded by evil forces' plotting to end him and Bitchface." His impecable memory worried her. By humoring him, she was jepordizing her entire existance as a character which certainly did not listen to and enjoy another's sleepy gibberish as well as pet their hair as they proceded to tell insane tales. 

     "That's ridiculous," she muttered and lifted her leg as quick as anyone could who was half-awake. She kicked him with enough force to shove him off the bed. "Go to sleep, Cupcake." 

     She grinned ear to ear when he groaned. "If I am a cupcake, I hope you have a sweet tooth."  

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     "How did you know I was lying?" Inferno muttered as Micah examined almost every inch of her body. Dressed in a crisp, green t-shirt and dark jeans, he appeared farthest from a doctor. His glossy locks were slicked back, exposing his smooth, tan forehead and prominent chin. 

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