Jasmine's POV
Should I feel threatened by what he had said before leaving my room that day?
Bella snaps her finger in front of me to get my attention.
"Where is your mind?" She asks
"What were you asking?"
"Our school has a rugby competition this weekend, and I understand that you have never attended one. It's already our final year, let's go together"
Rugby?
Xavier will be there, and I swear I don't want to be anywhere near him.
"Our final thesis exhibition is around the corner, I still have so many things to do on mine"
"It's still far. One day won't stop you from working on it, besides you've been on it since last semester." She convinces..
I scratch between my brows. How do I get out of this?
"Nicole invited us and he'll be getting us free drinks. This is my only chance to tell him how I feel"
She's been crushing on Nicole for the longest, and they've been friends for a while. He also is a rugby player.
"Okay I guess"
"Yes!"
"Plus I can't wait to see Xavier's angelic face. His hot body drenched in sweat, when he plays oozing with all sexiness on that field. Too bad he has a girlfriend. Heard she's from a different school and will be coming to the game too"
Something flips in me at the mention of his name.
Would this be the best time to tell her that he is unfortunately my roommate? Nah, she gets easily excited, she'll tell everyone.
"Angelic my foot" I mutter under my breath.
"He's like a fucking Greek god. What do you know about guys?" I didn't know she'd catch that.
"So…drumrolls…roommate reveal. Is it a he or a she? And is the person a student or has graduated?"
"I need to use the bathroom right now" I lie, immediately walking out of the hall.
He has a girlfriend, and he was banging another chick few days ago.
I'm not in the least surprised.
.............
Trying to focus on what next to add in this painting, I hear a knock on my door.
It can only be him.
At least he's not barging in this time.
"What?" I ask, my brows furrow as I open the door.
"Just a suggestion. That part of the living room has nothing going on in it" he starts, pointing at a neat corner.
"And your room isn't as bright, plus here has lots of windows to look out for inspiration. Why don't you paint here instead?"
He does have a point.
But I quirk my brow in surprise, is he being considerate now?
"So you can clumsily knock over the painting?" I shoot.
"Well it's at the far end, no one goes there. When you are done painting, you can take the finished work to your room, so you don't have to worry about me taking a picture."
He's oddly nice today.
Did he hit his head?
I stand there, eyes glued to the space, contemplating deeply.
It's actually a perfect spot to paint. But I don't trust why he's offering me that after telling me he'll break all my rules.
"What's in it for you?" I look at him.
I notice the look of confusion pass through his eyes.
"I understand that given your whole attitude, people don't do nice things for you. But here I am looking past that. If you don't want it, leave it" he dismisses, turning around to walk away.
Biting hard on my lips, I choose to ignore the insult, and call on him.
"I'll take it"
"Do you need help setting it up? I'm free right now"
I cringe at how nice he's being.
Genuinely, I can handle settling my stuff up, but there's no harm in letting him help. Right?
"You can help me take out the blank canvases there, I'll carry the easel"
"Sure. Can I come in?"
I almost laugh at his forced politeness.
"Yeah"
He carries the canvases all at once, while I follow behind with two easels at a time.
By the time we are done setting everything up, and arranging the brushes, some minutes have passed.
"Thank you for being useful" I drawl.
He runs a hand through his dark hair, and rolls his eyes.
"You don't even acknowledge when someone is being grateful"
"More like I don't accept backhanded acknowledgment" he shoots back.
When he turns to leave, he mistakenly knocks a cup of brushes over. They scatter all over the place.
"I'm so sorry, that was definitely not intentional" he mumbles immediately, crouching to pick them.
"It's fine"
I crouch next to him.
We both reach out for the same thin filbert brush at the same time. My fingers wrap over his.
His skin is warm, a startling hard contrast with the cold floor.
I freeze. I expect him to pull away with his usual snarky comments, but he doesn't, surprising me.
The air around us is heavy, the silence in the living room loud. I can hear the sound of my breathing.
I look up, but he's already looking at me. From how close we are, I can see the 'angelic face' Bella talked about.
Dark-green eyes, long lashes, full brows, well-sculpted nose… I try to stop myself from ogling him shamelessly.
But my eyes travel down to his thin lips, his thick neck, and then back to his eyes.
We are staring at each other right now. His eyes are not mocking, but it's unreadable.
He clears his throat, shaking me out of the trance I didn't know I was in.
"Careful there. If you keep looking at me like that, you'll make me think that I'm your next masterpiece."
My insides curl at his annoying voice.
"In your dreams" I shoot up immediately, leaving the brush in his hand.
"You don't ever beat the clumsy allegations, do you?" I snicker.
"And you don't ever beat being an amateur painter. I'll be your muse whenever you want to prove me wrong"
"You think I'd want to ever paint you?" I sneer.
"You can't, baby girl. I'm too perfect for you to capture every detail" he retorts, his eyes obviously mocking me.
"Perfect?" I scoff, "When all you do is push and shove people"
His smile reaches his eyes this time, making them twinkle.
"Come to the game this weekend. I play better when a hater is watching"
"Don't you have a girlfriend to impress?" I fire back.
Something unreadable crosses his eyes, making my stomach do an uncomfortable weird flip.
He tosses the brush on the tray.
Something is off about him.
"Speaking of her, does she know you invite girls to watch you perform? And it's not just on the field"
His jaw tightens as he gets my intended meaning.
"Come to the game, Jasmine"
His voice is dangerously low. He storms out of the apartment after that.
It doesn't feel like he's asking. If feels like a challenge.
Something about his mystery girlfriend ticks him off.
And now I want to know why.