I woke up to the strangest noise. 

slrrrrpppp slrrrrppp slrrrpppp

It took me a while to distinguish the real world noise from my supposed dream and I opened my eyes to stare at the unfamiliar ceiling. It took another few moments to recount last night and where I was and for a split second,  wondered if it had been merely my vivid imagination. I turned towards the source of the noise and the view immediately dispelled any doubts about last night being a dream. 

Riley sat on the floor in front of me, leaning against the couch kept opposite to the one where I had fallen asleep on. He had a book open in one hand and a straw protruded from his lips and into the juice box in his hand. Which, from the excessively annoying slurping noises was now empty, but he seemed too indulged in the book to notice as he sucked devoutly on the straw. 

He finally seemed to realize I was awake and stopping slurping to look at me. "Morning, Paul."

I was too drowsy to take offence to his words and instead decided to take a different approach. "Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?"

"You look cute while your asleep," he said nonchalantly, going back to drinking on the pitifully empty juice box. I took a moment to catch my breath at the way the sunlight streaming in through the high windows lit up his face. His dark hair was messy around his head, and yet surprisingly elegant. His lips, which had looked dark last night in the club, now looked a delicate shade of pink. His eyes were irises like remnants from cinders of an inferno. 

"Ew," I said, my cheeks burning and hoping I hadn't been slobbering or mumbling in my sleep. "That's fucking creepy. Are you Edward Cullen or something?"

He stopped sipping again, his eyes fixed on the book open in front of him as he answered drily, "I do enjoy the taste of blood."

I rolled my eyes and got to a seating position, rubbing my eyes as blood rushed to my head as the sudden movement. I was aware of his eyes fixed on me as he inadvertently started sipping the juice again. 

slrrrrrp slrrrrp lrrrp

I wasn't sure what it was that annoyed me so, but I lashed out. "It's empty for fuck sake."

I had never been a morning person, but the fact that he was giving the juice box the third degree and in the process creating an unholy ruckus was extremely irritating to me. 

"Oh," he said, sounding genuinely surprised as he placed the long dead juice box on the table and shut the book, staring at me. It was then that I realised how he looked different in tabloids than he was now. He seemed to have lost some weight, throwing his features into even more prominence than before. 

I sighed. "I'm sorry for lashing out like that," I apologized quickly as I massaged my temple. "I'm not really a morning person."

"That's okay," he said, nodding. "I'm barely even a person."

I gaped at him, wondering how an author of his calibre who had made me laugh and cry with his words, was so bad when it came to simple conversations. A poetic irony. 

"Would you like breakfast?" he asked.

"I'll just get it at the mess," I answered, rising to my feet. "Mind if I wash up?"

He shook his head, placing the book back on the table as he rose to his feet as well. I made my way back to the bedroom, aware of his footsteps following me right till I shut the bathroom door It struck me as a little odd that he had followed me into the bedroom, but I didn't think much of it. 

I walked over to the sink and washed my face multiple times. The cool water felt refreshing to my feverish skin. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, trying to comb my hair with my fingers and realizing there was hardly anything I could do to tame it. 

I stepped out after a while and much to my surprise saw him still standing outside. 

"Er- it was nice to meet you," I said as I left the bedroom and headed towards the exit. He followed me again and I was more than just a little surprised at his behaviour. I leaned against the wall, reaching for my shoes and putting them on as he kept staring at me. 

"We didn't have sex did we?" he piped up suddenly. 

I stopped midway in the act of putting on my left shoe and straightened up, staring at him and shaking my head in disbelief. "How fucking hammered were you last night?" 

He remained quiet. "Just confirming."

"No, we didn't," I said as I finished putting on my shoes and straightening up to look at him. "We were going to but then I went to the bathroom and when I returned you were passed out."

"Yes I was pretty drunk," he admitted solemnly. 

"You don't say," I said, reaching for the door handle as he kept standing still. "So er...goodbye then."

I turned to leave and just before I could open the door, he spoke suddenly, "It's Caspian."

"Its fucking Maverick-" I began, anger flaring up in my stomach as I turned to look at him. 

He shook his head. "No, I know you're Maverick," he said. "Me. I'm Caspian. Caspian Knight. F.F Riley is just a pen name."

"Oh," I deflated slightly under his gaze. Owing to how secretive he was about his life, this was brand new information to me. I had always thought that the double F's in front of his name just had some full form I didn't know about. The fact that the entire name was just feigned was new to me. I was surprised he had managed to hide it for so long, but it made sense since his pen name didn't have any social media either. "I...I didn't know that."

"You can't tell anyone that," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

I nodded, puzzled by his request. "Sure."

I wasn't even sure why he had decided to tell me in the first place. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, shuffling his feet before he spoke up. "Would you like to have some breakfast?"

Maybe I was imagining things, but I felt a strange longing in his voice. I glanced at my wristwatch and saw that it was eight. I still had plenty of time before my first class that day. I took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

He seemed to gulp before nodding back as he made his way over to the kitchen. I sat near the table and watched as he reached onto the upper shelves, pulling out a box of cereal. "It's just cereal. Is that okay?" he asked. 

"Yep," I nodded. He nodded back at me and reached for two of the many neatly arranged bowls on the counter. He brought both the bowls to the table, placing one in front of me and another in front of himself. He placed the cereal on the table and then walked over to the fridge, fishing out a bottle of milk which again he placed on the table in front of me. 

"Bon Appetit," he said softly as reached for the cereal and put some of it into the bowl. I poured some milk into it and reached for the spoon he handed me. I ate a spoonful of the cereal and almost spat it out immediately. A strange, extremely strong taste, unlike anything I had ever had burst onto my tongue. 

"What the-?" I glanced at Caspian who was now busy opening a bottle of vodka and watched, amazed and horrified as he added some of it into his cereal bowl. "Is that vodka?"

"No," he lied. 

I stared at him for a while, bewildered by his defiance. "Did you just lie to my face?"

"Yeah, but you're gonna say that it's eight in the morning and I shouldn't be drinking at this time and I -" he took a  spoonful of the strange concoction and ate it, staring at me, "-I wouldn't like that." 

"I don't fucking care that you're drinking at this time but there's something wrong with your cereal."

To verify my doubts, I reached for the box of cereal and turned it around to read the expiry date. The black printed letters confirmed my suspicions and I sighed, pushing the bowl of cereal away. "This expired three months ago."

"Oh," he said, his face blank. "I...I thought it was the vodka. I rarely eat breakfast anyway."

His expression was almost funny to me. 

I shook my head and rose to my feet. "You gotta get rid of that. And while at it, take a pass at the milk too."

He remained quiet, staring at his bowl of cereal, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was contemplating something. It made me wonder if I had been mistaken in thinking he had help around the house. 

He followed me to the exit as I turned to bid him farewell. "Goodbye then."

"Sorry about the breakfast..." he muttered, shuffling his feet and averting my gaze. 

"It's okay," I replied honestly, an unexplainable twinge in my heart. I remembered his words from last night but knew it was none of my business to say anything. He probably had a complicated life as it is, I didn't want to get involved in something like that anyway. Maybe it was better this way.

"You should probably change it though," I said. "The cereal. Throw it out or something."

He was quiet, not reacting to my words whatsoever. After a while, he spoke slowly, "Can I have your number?"

I was quiet, staring at him. It made no sense to me as to why he was so interested in me. I sighed and exerting more control over myself than I ever had, I shook my head. "No, sorry."

He didn't act right away before a small, wry smile spread on his face. "I really creeped you out, huh?"

I sighed. "It's not that. Honestly...I mean.... you're like a celebrity and I don't wanna make things complicated. It doesn't matter... it was supposed to be a one-time thing anyway."

"Right," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You're right."

I nodded. "I'm sorry and...thanks...I guess. Er...bye."

I opened the door and stepped out, shutting it behind me and letting out a relieved sigh. Last night still felt like a surreal dream to me, and I couldn't figure out why he had acted the way he had. More importantly, I couldn't believe I had chickened out like that. Was I absolutely nuts to reject FF Riley?

Caspian. That's what he said his name was. Why had he told me then, if it was such a closely guarded secret?

I made my way down the elevator and stepped out into the unfamiliar apartment complex, my mind a flurry of questions.