I woke up simultaneously feeling ten shades of nasty and better than ever before, but I refused to move at first and only looked over at the cause for both of those feelings.
Just thinking about his sweet words from the night before had me coiling my body around his wishing I could wake him up and show him my appreciation all over again, but taking a shower first couldn’t hurt and my bladder had other ideas too, so eventually I had no choice but to give in to its demands. While I was in the bathroom the other things we’d learned the night before filtered into my head and while it all sounded too fantastical to believe, I knew I’d be a fool to discount any of it. Eric’s reaction to that oracle woman alone told me she wasn’t some charlatan hawking snake oil, so I figured if I was going to be hunted by fairies and demons who would rape me, then I needed to start working on ways to defend myself.
My eyes glanced down at the roll of toilet paper and figured it was a harmless enough thing to practice on, so I pulled on the roll so a few sheets hung down and concentrated on it trying to will the paper to move.
I tried to picture Niall in its place and concentrated even harder, but in the end I only managed to piss myself off so I went to snatch the entire roll from its perch, intending to throw it into the shower to complete my hissy fit, only as my hand reached down the roll caught on fire. I squeaked in panic with my feet dancing a little jig while my brain tried to think of what I should do when Eric suddenly appeared in the doorway. He didn’t look drowsy at all but then I hadn’t bothered to look at the clock and without bothering to ask what was wrong – I’m sure the burning roll of toilet paper probably gave it away – he grabbed a towel and wet it in the sink before using it to douse the flames.
I didn’t realize I was crying until he moved to stand in front of me and wiped my tears away asking, “What happened?”
“I’m a prepubescent Drew Barrymore,” I sniffled.
Goddamn Firestarter… Why couldn’t I be the kickass Charlie’s Angels version of her instead?
Eric stared down at me like I had three heads and hesitantly asked, “Are you still feeling unwell? I can call a doctor to come see you.”
Realizing Eric couldn’t read my thoughts – at least when I didn’t mean for him to – I giggled knowing how crazy I sounded and asked, “Do you have Doctor Frankenstein on your payroll? Everybody’s saying I’m made up of all of these different parts, so I think I might need a specialist.”