My heart was faster and with more ferocity than the fastest cheetah alive.

Two factors were to be blamed. One, Douglas was much closer than I anticipated, wearing basically nothing except for the bedspread covering his lower half and he was watching me calmly like a child who'd seen the snow for the first time. And two, even though he was basically reciting along to the line carved by F. Scott Fitzgerald, those words would make even a nun's heart race with elation.

We didn't move or talk for some time. Heck, the UN could've solved the world's famine problems in the time it took for us to respond. Not true, maybe, but it was just too awkward for far too long.

After what felt like forever, Douglas's eyes drifted to the first edition book in my hands and then he moved to take it out of it. Still without saying anything, he placed on top of the newspaper on the table beside his bed and sat up properly, his abdominal muscles flexing as he shifted.

Then slowly, my body still tensed and waiting for a flood of anger to land on me, Douglas ran a hand through his hair and left behind a messy yet somehow sexy do. He cleared his throat before he asked, "Quincy sent you, I take it, to wake me up?"

I dared not say a word. Half worried that as soon as I said something, he would burst out.

"Krys...." Douglas chuckled softly as if he found my tensed figure amusing. "Quincy sent you up here, right?"

I decided that if I didn't answer him in any way things would only get worse, so I nodded.

"And you were supposed to wake me up, right?"

I nodded again.

"And yet you opted to read my mom's first edition copy of The Great Gatsby," his eyes drifted to the book on the table before he looked back at me, "...instead of waking me up?"

"Quincy got angry at me for insinuating you'd be watching porn or something and he sent me up here. I called for you, you didn't answer me so I walked in and... it was just there- and I thought- I just wanted to see what it was.... I thought you'd be reading Playboy...I just... I'm sorry," I tried in vain to stop myself but already Douglas was in small feats of laughter.

"Douglas!" I tried to stop him but he continued laughing even more harder than before. "It's really not that funny."

He finally stopped even to form actual words. "It kind of is. You looked like I was going to bite your head off." He started laughing again, before he stopped abruptly. "Wait, you thought, I was reading Playboy?"

I nodded slowly as if I was confessing to a murder.

He arched a brow, a smirk forming. "And how did you come to this conclusion that I was reading that type of reading material?"

"I just thought..."

He nodded as he got up off the bed, the bedspread that covered him started to fall off and without meaning to I turned my head away, just in case he wasn't wearing anything underneath and was someone who liked to go commando when he slept.

I focused on the poster of the surfer that was on his wall, the memories from the surfing lesson the other day he had given me came to mind. I couldn't deny that I had more fun than I had expected and that had made me rethink Douglas. Maybe he was always bad at first impressions.

A loud laugh from Douglas echoed in the room, drawing my attention back to him yet maintaining my gaze away from him.

“You are really much more innocent that I thought you were,” he chuckled again. I could sense him standing beside me now. “Most girls would be dying to see me naked and yet you turn away.”

He grabbed my face and turned it back towards him. Instinctively I closed my eyes， eliciting another laugh from him.

“Don't worry. I’m decent.”

I shook my head. “Either you're not wearing anything right now or you're only wearing a pair of shorts. Neither of which can be classed as decent in any scenario that didn't involve a pool or around someone intimate.” I wanted to die as soon as the last part of that sentence escaped my lips. Why did I say that?

He chuckled again. “Someone intimate?” I could picture him staring at me with an undeniably amused expression on his face. But thankfully he didn't dwell on that line of thought. Instead he decided to hover on the first statement. “And what if I’m the former of the two?” I could feel him leaning closer to me，the warmth from his body felt like it could cause heat-bite if there was such a thing.

Even without having to stare into a mirror， I knew I resembled a huge tomato by now. And anyone would've too， if they were stuck in the same situation I was currently in. A decent looking- who am I kidding? - A hot well-endowed teenage boy with washboard abs with a questionable amount of clothing on, outrightly trying to get a girl flustered.

At my lack of a reply, Douglas chuckled low again. “You've already seen with with only boxers on, so that should be better right? Or do you need another reminder?”

I pulled away from where he was with my eyes still shut， trying to put some distance between us despite not knowing which direction I was moving in. “I woke you up now so I’m gonna go back downstairs. Take your time getting ready. Really.” I could feel myself mumbling so I decided to take that as my cue to leave.

I tried walking straight hoping that would lead me towards the door. As my luck would have it, I hit a wall. So I turned to my right and tried again, until I hit the wall.

I could feel Douglas’s eyes burning into me with an undoubtedly amused smile on his face.

“Let me help you,” he placed both hands on my shoulders and before I could react he guided me. Then I heard the door being opened， (when had it been closed?) . Just before I got pushed out，I heard a small chuckle escape Douglas.

Finally I opened my eyes and leaned against the wall trying to calm down my sprinting heartbeat. I could feel that my face was still burning red and it didn't help that the source of it was just on the other side of the door.

Calm down, Krystal! You can handle Douglas being all flirty and charming! Calm down!

After about two minutes, when I knew I didn't resemble a tomato that much or felt like I’d just run a marathon at a sprint, I started heading down back downstairs, with the conclusion that I should keep more than hundred feet between Douglas and I from now on. For my sanity of course.

But then again that in itself was a feat. How could I keep that much space between us without arousing suspicion?

I remember how on Saturday, last week while everyone had gathered at the Burns mansion for the 4th of July party, Nancy had commented on how civilised Douglas and I had become with one another, at least considering how I’d personally dubbed him demon spawn whenever I had talked about him about one month back.

But then when we went back home that evening, after watching the fireworks show that Mr Burns had paid over a grand for, she was suspicious enough to ask whether something was going on between Douglas and I. I’d berated her and laughed at it back then, but when I went to my room, the thought haunted me.

“...he won't like that and you know it,” I heard Georgia's voice echoing from the living room as I neared the landing, shaking me out of my deep thoughts. She must've already finished with her manipedi. I smiled at the thought that now she could be a much needed wall between Douglas and I right now. My racing beart from before echoed just in my memory and I didn't need a repeat of that episode.

Just as I neared the living room, I heard Quincy’s voice take on a suspiciously quiet monotone that I hadn't heard before, as if he was trying his best to not be overheard.

“I know. But it can't be helped,” The way he sounded so broken, unlike his reprimanding tone from earlier this morning, made me stop myself from announcing my presence. “We all know what to expect when it's this time of the year Ms Frost. And I, personally will not stand for seeing young Mr Burns from drowning his sorrow in liquor by his lonesome.”

Young Mr Burns? Was he referring to Douglas? And what did he mean by drowning his sorrow in liquor?

I pressed myself against the doorway leading into the living room, making sure to not make a sound to alert them to my presence.

I heard Georgia release a groan of frustration. Silence followed for a tense filled few seconds before I heard Georgia's voice again. “I think we should just leave him be. His emotions are usually dialed up on that day and not even I can get Douglas to think reasonably and you know it Quincy. ”

I could hear Quincy’s heavy breathing and indecision.

“What about-”

“We tried that already,” Georgia interrupted. “He and Will got into it that year remember and Will ended up with a bruised rib.”

Just what were they talking about? Douglas and Will got into a fight? When?

“I think it's time him and Uncle Seb talk things over. Even if I have to locking them up together, I will.” I could hear the resolve in Georgia's voice and I smiled, picturing long-legged her locking up someone like Sebastian Burns and Douglas in the same room together. Just the prospect of it made me want to laugh out loud at it.

“If the thought hadn't once crossed my mind, child.”

“Then?”

“Mr Burns is always unreachable at this time of the year or haven't you noticed?” I could picture a disappointed look painted on Quincy’s face. “Besides the one time he was, him and Douglas couldn't be reasoned with.”

As I listened to their conversation, I grasped what it could have been about. Just to confirm it, I tried to remember when Athena Burns, Douglas’ mother had passed.

July 18th 2003， I think the date on the article I read was.

July 16th was the date she died， if I remember it correctly.

July 16th 2003.

Today was the 7th of July. Which meant that next week Thursday was Mrs Burns 12th year death anniversary.

If my reasoning behind Georgia and Quincy’s hushed conversation was correct then one question dawned on me.

What was Douglas like on the 16th of July?