Penny's glossy brown hair shines under the lights as she bobs over to the television, clutching the remote in her hand, she begins to search through the channels. Images flicker on the screen but none of them suffices so she carries on searching.

"Where's Archer now?" I sit on the arm of the grey sofa. How's it possible that the arm of the sofa is comfier than our sofa back home?

She doesn't take her eyes away from the marine documentary that's now playing. "Probably in his room," she shrugs nonchalantly.

I wait for her to continue but she doesn't. My hands find a pillow and I launch it at her head, wincing when it contacts the right side of her face. At least it's soft. Her accusing eyes find mine and my heart races.

"Madison," she warns me.

I hold my hands up in surrender. "Sorry," my apologetic eyes meet hers. I stifle a laugh, but she doesn't look amused. "Aren't you going to go check if he's there, we're meant to be keeping an eye on him?"

She laughs hysterically, clutching onto her stomach. I watch her confused. Why's she laughing? Sophie told us that we need to keep an eye on him, and we can't do that if we have no idea where he is. He could be halfway across the city being cornered by thieves for all we know. Maybe that's slightly inaccurate, it would be him cornering the thieves.

"No, who knows what he's got in there. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a mountain of dirty underwear covering the floor."

"It's not that bad-" I start, my jaw hanging ajar once I realise what I've said. Penny's gaze snaps to mine as I smack my hand against my mouth. The thought of her knowing we've kissed causes bile to rise in my stomach.

"How do you know?" She eyes me suspiciously.

"I don't, it's just a guess." I scramble to explain myself.

Her eyebrows raise. She doesn't entirely believe me. Honestly, I wouldn't believe me. I don't know what he was doing that night when he came stumbling through the door drunk so how would I explain that to her? I still haven't worked out the answer for myself. He told me not to leave him, but I know that those words weren't meant for me.

"Fine, I'll go."

I drag my feet up the stairs. Each step is harder and harder to take. I can think of hundreds of other places I would rather be right now, wrapped up in my bed back in London is one of them. When I finally get to his room, my hand hovers in front of the door.

Just knock, Madison, Archer telling you that he can't stay away from you isn't a big deal. It is a big deal, it's definitely a big deal. As someone who has never had the attention of a boy in that way and who cries at romantic comedies, I can tell you that it's a huge deal. I knock on the door anyway.

Five, ten, twenty. The seconds pass by and there's no answer. I now notice the buzz of music coming from his room and connect the dots. He's in there but he can't hear me. So, instead of knocking again and waiting for him to hear, I push the door open.

He's sprawled out on the bed in his usual black attire. His brown hair falls into his eyes as he studies the drawing pad in his hands. He's sketching something but I can't make out what it is from this angle. Once he notices me watching him, he drops the pencil.

"I didn't know you drew."

"I didn't know you came into people's rooms uninvited."

"I don't usually," I step closer to his bed. "Can I sit?" He nods his head slightly. I sit on the edge. Sitting on the edge makes it easier for me to retreat to the comfort of my room if I need to.

I can't help but stare at the butterflies climbing up his arm and hiding under the sleeve of his shirt. But once I notice what I'm doing I snap out of it and cross my legs, my eyes falling on my hands in my lap. "Your parents gave us strict orders to keep an eye on you."

"That's bullshit," he spits. "I don't need them to babysit me, and I certainly don't need you and Penny to do it either. I can take care of myself."

I gulp as our gaze's lock. "I don't doubt that," I say breathlessly.

We fall into silence as I search for something to say. I know that we have to talk about his confession sooner or later but I'd rather it be later. If we stay in this silence the subject is bound to come up.

"What are you drawing?"

His eyes disconnect with mine causing my heart to steady. I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans. "Nothing important." He slides open his bedside drawer and stuffs the drawing pad inside.

"Well," I stand up, knowing that I've outstayed my welcome. "Have fun doing nothing important."

I walk towards his door and half expect him to stop me, but he doesn't. I can't help the disappointment that seeps in when I don't feel the warmth of his fingers intertwining with mine, pulling me back towards him. He said he didn't need me to say anything yet and that's exactly what he's doing, he's not pressuring me to say anything. But why does it feel like I want to say something? Why do I want to turn around and get lost in him? I need time to think about what I'm going to say but part of me doesn't want that time. That part of me just wants him.

But alas, this isn't a romantic comedy like Sleepless in Seattle or Pretty Woman, this is reality. I wish I had the confidence of the women that you see in movies, but I don't. I can't just turn around and kiss him. I need to be logical, he hurt me, and I still haven't forgiven him for that. With that thought in mind, I leave his room.

*

"Are we meeting Brody there?" I ask, slipping on my shoes. We decided we were going to watch a movie together today. It was an impulsive decision made out of sheer boredom. There are only so many movies you can watch in bed before you need a change of scenery. In our case, a change of scenery is the movie theatre.

"Yep," She responds, popping the p.

"Okay, have we got everything?" I tick off my mental list. We've got snacks, car keys, tissues in case crying is involved, and...we forgot to tell Archer.

You may be thinking, why do we need to tell Archer where we're going? It's not like we need his permission, and you would be correct. We don't need his permission. We do need to keep an eye on him though, meaning that we need to know where he is.

As if I'd summoned him, he slouches down the stairs and into the kitchen. He notices us but doesn't say anything as he rummages through the refrigerator, the light casting a dim glow onto his face.

I wait for Penny to ask him, but she picks at her black nail polish instead. She's either forgotten or doesn't want to talk to him. I have a feeling it's the latter.

"We're going to the movie theatre." I take it upon myself to tell him.

"Whatever." He hums.

"What I mean is," I start, knowing that he isn't going to offer to tell me himself. "We're leaving so we need to know where you're going to be." I pull my lip between my teeth.

He shuts the refrigerator with a carton of orange juice in his hand and unscrews the cap. "Aw, you're worried about me," he teases before bringing it up to his lips. Our first encounter flashes in the darkness when I close my eyes. Have we even made much progress since then?

I can't hold back the blush that stains my cheeks. My face is red hot and I contemplate throwing myself into the pool outside. Now that I mention it, I haven't been in the pool yet.

"No," I'm lying, and he knows it. "I'm just following your parent's orders."

"Oh, so you're their guineapig?"

I roll my eyes lazily. "If you were staying in someone else's home for an entire year you'd do everything they asked too. If it makes me a guineapig for doing so, then so be it." I raise a challenging eyebrow, but he seems satisfied with my answer, choosing not to continue.

I lean against the counter, propping my head upon my hands as I watch him. Penny's too busy avoiding all eye contact with her brother to notice my gawking. Archer isn't though. A beaming grin takes over his features and I do my best to hide my embarrassment.

"I'm not telling you." He cocks an eyebrow, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. I focus on something else, so I don't get lost in them.

I groan. "Penny, tell him."

"Tell us where you're going to be, or I'll shave your head while you sleep." She threatens, her eyes narrowed in his direction. I refrain from gasping in disbelief at her words.

His eyes crease in the corners as he laughs. Her irritation grows. She shakes her head and goes back to picking at her nail polish. Something tells me that she wasn't joking.

"I don't care, I'd still look good. Right, Mads?"

I ignore his question, clearing my throat awkwardly. "I'm not going to damage your ego by answering that." He grins, knowing that my answer would do everything but damage it. I purse my lips into a line to stop the words I want to say from slipping out.

"My ego is perfectly healthy, thank you very much. You wouldn't be able to damage it if you tried."

I raise my eyebrows, daring him to come closer so I can show him just how much damage I'm capable of doing. He seems amused by my challenge and steps out from behind the counter. His steps come to a halt.

"Just answer the question," Penny states flatly.

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Fine," but he doesn't continue. Instead, he stalks towards me causing my heart to race with every step. When he reaches my side, I can hear the thump of my heart beating in my ears. His mouth is next to my ear, his hot breath fanning my cheek. "I'll be in my room."

He leaves me frozen in place as he goes back upstairs. I gulp, my eyes wide. Why did that sound like an invitation?