Two hours. Seventeen minutes. And forty-eight seconds. That is the measured length of time I spent trying to calm my rumbling stomach down.

Two hours. Seventeen minutes. And forty-eight seconds.

Yes, that is correct. After two hours, seventeen minutes, and forty-eight seconds of hyperactive jumping, rolling, strolling around, and laughing my off at my own stomach’s misery, I decided to finally give up.

I suppose this is God's way of punishing me for running away from awkwardness.

I haven't decided yet whether or not I deserved it.

I mean, I looked like a complete and total tard and it was all dumb Chen's fault. He robbed my fun times. And I didn't even get to have the satisfaction of kicking his arse for it because the stupid bloke is still having fun times (that was supposed to be mine to began with) with his friends downstairs outside my room, his group of friends that was probably just as stupid as him.

If you’re wondering why the heck am I not downstairs, stuffing my good-for-nothing hungry stomach with actual food, here’s why: I am shy. Just going to put that out there, not wait to make some big revelation or something halfway through my story.

And not the cute, blushing-girl-next-door kind of shy, but the socially awkward, you cringe-when-she-tries-to-talk kind of shy.

My existence is pretty pathetic, I know.

Speaking of pathetic existence, my stomach’s pathetic existence is killing me.

That’s it, I’m going down, right now. I’m going out of my room, go downstairs, fetch some food, and get my fatass stomach some fun-times-digesting-food.

I got fed up with waiting for food to teleport itself into my endless stomach. I learnt that it just does not work that way, and that I should probably stop myself from further gawking/gulping/biting into the air; it’s not helping at all.

…

I stared at the ceiling for a good fifteen minutes, trying to find the will to stand, unable to find one, I, dejectedly, rolled out of my bed and flopped onto the floor with a loud bang.

y bed, so not supportive.

I sulkily picked myself off the floor then reached over the door.

My heart pounded furiously as I gripped the door frame for support. I am now standing outside of my room.

, I can’t do this after all.

No, Spencer. You can. You are going to fetch that stupid stomach of yours a decent meal, then go back to your comfort zone, piece of cake.

After assuring my cowardly self to take the first tiny bit step towards the stairs, I began to make my way to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, being the jerky Chen guy he is, he picked the nearest location to the kitchen as a sort of bonding-place for him and his lousy friends.

, why, of all the places here, did he pick the living room?

Lucky enough that they were so busy watching some sickly gore movie that they didn't even notice my awesome presence. 

I mean seriously, cannibalism? And they are laughing at the probably the grossest torturing scene I’ve ever seen in my entire life. What kind of sick life did they have in the past? Hitler’s left and right hand?

Decided that I was just being paranoid and that going to lunch would be fine.

I think I am far too optimistic a person.

Just realized that it was not only the jerky Chen guy that was watching me, but was, in fact, the entire group.

I have never been this popular.

I decided that I do not like the attention that they are giving me.

I do not like HOT, gorgy guys’ attention.

I tiptoed. I mean, I in tiptoed to get into the kitchen. What the heck, do they have super hearing ability or something?

I heard a soft murmur come from Chen's direction that sounded something along the lines of "Crazy bint."

Immediately I snapped my head up

"What did you call me?" My voice was low and dangerous, my words articulate and crisp. If I wasn't so angry, I probably would have been really excited by the dramatics it added to the situation.

But, alas, I was ready to spit fire.

He cocked an eyebrow at my overly dramatic tone.

My eyes narrowed. "Take it back,"

"No." His expression mirrored mine as he returned my glare.

My teeth gritted together and my blood seethed due to the infuriating boy before me. "I said: Take. It. Back."

Chen guy smirked; both taunting and challenging me. "Make me."

"I will," I promised.

You don't have the balls to do anything," he said, brushing off my words as nonsense.

"Sure I do, arse-munch." I know that in the eyes of a well-built bloke, I didn't look like much, as I lacked in the muscle department, but I meant business. I wasn't going down without a fight; I was perfectly willing to pinch, bite, and scratch my way to victory.

“You are sure as hell going to take back what you said." I growled. I feel so badass.

"Like I said, make me."

"And like I said, I will."

"Then do it."

"Okay."

"What are you waiting for?"

"I'm gonna do it."

"Alright then, you do that."

"Yep."

We sat there silently for a moment just staring into one another's eyes as if the mere action would cause the other to burst into flames. Suddenly, without even thinking about it (because otherwise I would have registered the ridiculousness of the action), I threw myself across the table and at Chen guy, attempting to beat the hell out of him.

Fate, however, is a funny thing.

Actually, I take that back: Fate's not a funny thing at all—it's evil, sadistic, opportunistic, and mean.

I fell, face down first, before even reaching Chen.

Silence. All eyes focused on the downfall of me.

Hysterical laughter could be heard everywhere.

Someone, get those eyes off me!

“What’s going on here?”

Finally! A shift of attention!

I turned around to see who the speaker (and my savior) was and

Fell in love.

Seriously.

Time stopped.

The birds sang.

The angels fell from the sky.

I drooled.

Standing in front of me was a man with beauty even a God would envy. Brown hair, bubbly face, cute face, cutesy, gorgy, drool-worthy sweet as chocolate brown eyes.

Oh! The wonder of this stranger’s eyes! They were just so mystical and… browny. I could stare into them all day; I really could. I'm telling you, just one look into those exquisite eyes and you become complete mush and suddenly life doesn't so much. Everyday is Free Balloon Day. Coupons for TV Dinners grow on trees. Girls don't throw up on the boy they like's shoes (Like I’ve said earlier, it did happen, I tell you). Mums don't shag blokes who are twenty years their junior. Said bloke does not rob others’ cereals. People out rainbows. It's really great, it really is.

I know, I know, I shouldn't let a boy dictate my life, but honestly, this man is gorgey!

What the ? How can a man this perfect exists in this in goddamn world? His beauty is so unfair. I think he was the sole reason why those Hitler nazi events even happened. He must have been a Jewish back then. Hitler was such a jealous prat, obviously.

Before you start thinking I'm only after the man's body –which is, I must say, glorious. I'll have you know that he is smart, and kind as mothera (At least that’s what I think). He’s such a great and refreshing character (At my first impression), I can feel it in my bones.

I couldn’t even had the courage to tear my eyes off his. My eyes assessed him, soaking in his appearance and he, to my surprise, seemed to be doing the same to me. Well, not assessing my appearance, more like staring. 

Yes, he was staring at me, doe eyes widened at the sight of my blank expression, his mouth went slack, seemingly stunned at whatever it is on my face.

Maybe he thought I was stupid for goggling at his face. Not that I care, I have every right to ogle him. Well, not really. But this time, I don’t really give a about anything else beside his delicious looking face.

I faintly heard the whispering sounds, and caught a bit of the words/questions/remarks/complaints.

“Seriously Luhan, you?”

“Aisssh. After Kai and now you”

“That crazy bint, really?”  The last was Chen. I feel insulted somehow.

Luhan growled at Chen. I stared.

Did he just growl?

And now Chen’s friends (And Luhan’s friends too) are looking at me funny. And it's not because I have oatmeal on my face, because I just did a subtle check –brushing my face with my hands. Very clever, if I do say so myself- and there's nothing.

So it must be from Luhan’s growl.

Great. Now everyone's going to think I make this guy, Luhan growl.

Our eyes met once again. I wonder how gorgy would my children be if I had them with him?

God, I want him to be my husband.

The father of my children.

The father of my sons and daughters.

Father.

My husband.

Did Luhan just grin at me?

God, his smile. Quick, say something Spencer.

"I'm," going to marry you, I think I stuttered. “Can you be my father’s husband?” 

He blinked, then frowned, tilting his head cutely at my seemingly beyond-ridiculous question.

…

Oh no. That came out wrong. It was supposed to be something like this: ‘can you be my husband and be the father of my children?’

He appeared to be extremely amused by my previous outburst. Now that I think about it, did I just ask a mere stranger to be my father? Why did this sort of thing always happen to me? Does the universe really hate me that much? If you ask me, it's a little excessive.

The universe needs to get a life and quit making mine . Seriously, get a hobby. Like scrapbooking or watching birds. Anything other than making me ask this mega-hottie-guy-of-the-century to be my father.

No, even worse than that. I asked a mere stranger (a mere gorgeous stranger) to be my father’s husband.

Husband as in my father’s partner in life.

Partner in life.

A gay partner in life.

.

Blamed my lack of social skills and my non-existent interaction with other people (beside my mum). Although I had zero problem in communicating with my teachers (if you count greeting them in the morning as one of many ways of communicating), this seemed to be not-helping at all when faced with one very drool-worthy man.

So I did what any sane person with half a heart would do.

I ran.