I widened my eyes.
Could he read my mind?
Fuck you, Darcy.
Silence.
Nah, he couldn't read my mind, he just guessed what I thinking.
"Come on, Neala. You're going to get sick in here. The room is soaking," Darcy grunted, his tone changing to one of annoyance.
I wasn't falling for his change of tone.
The room was wet because of him, it was completely his fault.
After he faked his death and I closed myself off from him in the living room, the fucker opened the door and threw snowballs at me. Yes, snowballs. He was obviously never taught not to throw things inside the house, especially fucking snowballs. He completely soaked my dress and blazer and the furniture because he has the worst aim in the history of mankind. The snowballs melted and all but destroyed the furniture, what little furniture he had, when the wet soaked into them.
He was lucky he didn't mess up the tree, I would have kicked his arse if he had. The moron didn't even notice I did up the room earlier when he attacked me because I turned the light up characters off to save the battery power, but now that they were lit he was noticing.
The bloody gobshite.
"Speak to me, Neala," Darcy pleaded. "I'll get upset if you don't."
I lifted my right hand in the air, and stuck my middle finger up at him.
Darcy's sudden scream frightened the shite out of me. I quickly turned to face him just as he dropped to his knees and dramatically began to scream and cry.
He was such a bloody moron.
"Shut up!" I shouted and covered my ears with my hands. "You're giving me a bleeding headache, you eejit."
Darcy continued to wail and throw himself onto the floor and slap his hands against the wooden floor.
He was throwing a tantrum.
Wonderful.
"Stop it!" I bellowed and jumped up from the couch.
Darcy ignored me and continued his fake tantrum, he even added rolling from side to side into his stupid routine. Einstein started to freak out and wail too, and even though she was in the kitchen I could hear her as plain as day. She was even louder than fucking Darcy.
"You're upsetting Einstein, stop it!" I snarled down at Darcy as I stomped over to him.
When I was stood before him, Darcy wrapped his arms around my legs and held on for dear life.
Oh, Christ.
"Darcy!" I shouted and bent down and slapped at his arms.
He wouldn't let go.
"For the love of God, will you let go of me and stop!" I snapped.
Darcy's stopping fake crying and looked up at me. "Will you do as I ask?"
"No." I hissed.
He screamed. “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the wayyyyyy. Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse opppeeeennnnnn-“
“Okay!” I screamed. “I’ll do as you ask!”
If he'd stop acting and singing stupid jingles like a five year old I'd do just about anything.
Darcy smiled up at me then let go of my legs and jumped up to his feet.
"Excellent, now follow me."
I narrowed my eyes at Darcy's back when he turned and pranced out of the living.
He was so bloody full of it.
I shook my head, and reluctantly followed Darcy out of the living room, down the hallway, and into his bedroom. I stood idle at his bedroom doorway and hesitated to go inside. Darcy looked over his shoulder at me and laughed which made me want to smack him.
"I'm not going to jump you - I'm trying to help you."
Ha. Yeah, right.
"Help me how?" I asked, curiously.
Darcy turned and walked over to his wardrobe, he opened the door and pulled out a few items of clothing. He walked over to his dresser and pulled out another item of clothing, he turned and dropped the items on his bed and gestured at them with his arms.
"Trousers, a t-shirt, boxers and socks. Have at them."
What?
"I don't understand," I said with furrowed eyebrows.
Darcy cleared his throat. "You're clothes are soaking, you can't stay in them because you'll get sick so I'm giving you some of mine to wear."
Butterflies exploded in my stomach and I had to fight myself not to blush. I should have been annoyed with the clothing offer, because I couldn't stand Darcy, but I wasn't.
I was oddly excited.
"I'm not wearing your clothes," I said simply to keep my excitement undetected.
Who the hell gets excited over wearing a lad's clothes?
Apparently me.
Ugh.
"Do I have to throw another tantrum?" Darcy asked.
I wasn't looking at him, but I could hear the smile that was sure to be plastered over his stupid good-looking face.
I looked up to him, ignored said smile, and glared. "You're threatening me."
It was a statement, not a question.
"You're a clever cookie," Darcy teased.
I grunted. "You'd rival an toddler with that bloody tantrum."
Darcy smirked. "Thank you."