I didn't hesitate to face plant uncomfortably on my bed. I decided that I would stay like this until further notice. 
                          
Xavier needs to be taught a lesson.


                          
***


                          
After finally managing to drag myself out of bed for the second time today and actually showering, I felt better. When I wandered downstairs, Xavier was gone. I took the opportunity to do some snooping. After creeping through the house as if I was breaking in and coming to the conclusion he had definitely left and there were no traps to walk into, I slipped into his room.
                          
With my hands planted on my hips, I swept my eyes around. The room was surprisingly neat. His room was mainly navy and white, tempting me to go out and buy a sailor's hat.
                          
His bed was unmade and he had various surf magazines scattered across the end of his mattress, but that's not what caught my eye. I wandered towards his desk, where there were various thick notepads. I abruptly sat down and began going through them.  What I saw shocked me. Drawings upon drawings filled the pages. He was actually good. Really good.
                          
My mouth was dangling open unattractively as my fingers delicately walked over the pages. It was random drawings ranging from old houses, random patterns, to the beach. There wasn't exactly a trend I could follow, I think he just drew anything that came to mind. But wow, he was talented. I wish had a cool skill like this. 
                          
I kept flicking through the pages, my eyes drinking in everything. I flicked to one of the last drawings and my fingers paused. I stared down at a drawing of me. An amazing drawing of me. Every feature of my face was highlighted and I looked better in the drawing than I do in real life. My jaw was sitting on the floor by now. 
                          
Xavier drew me? This whole thing was so unexpected and bizarre. I was starting to realise I really don't know a thing about the boy living with me.
                          
"What are you doing in my room?"
                          
I leapt about a meter in the air, my heart threatening to jump outside my chest. I whirled around breathlessly, panic rushing through my abdomen. His eyes were narrowed and his body rigid. His tone was colder than ice. Xavier was always joking around, so seeing this side to him was a little scary. 
                          
"Er-I-umm," I stammered like an idiot, hastily dropping the book back onto the desk and stepped away, as if that act would make me seem somehow less guilty.
                          
"So you think you can just come into my room and go through my things whenever you feel like it, Faith?" 
                          
When he said Faith and not Faithless or Sweetcheeks, I flinched involuntarily. Swallowing uneasily, I realised I was a total hypocrite. I would be completely furious if he did this to me.
                          
"You would do the same to me if I didn't have a lock on my room."
                          
"I wouldn't go through your personal belongings." he spat, his fists clenched by his side.
                          
I opted for changing the subject. In attempt to be smooth, I leaned back against the desk nonchalantly.
                          
"Why don't you show people how good you can draw?"
                          
"It's none of their business." he said bitterly, glaring at me.
                          
"But you're good. Like really, really good."
                          
His expression softened slightly and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't reply. I softly bit my lip and picked up the book, suddenly not feeling nervous anymore.
                          
"I really like the one you drew of me."
                          
I glanced up and his face was flushed. He seemed so cocky and confident usually, seeing him embarrassed was odd. He rubbed the back of his neck. It was possibly the most adorable thing I have ever seen in my life. I mentally slapped myself. I don't like him and I don't find him 'adorable'. Maybe I'm still drunk from last night? Yeah, that must be it.