"What. Are. You. Doing?" Jessica asked, emphasizing every word.

From where I stood by the window, I sighed, shaking my head in annoyance. I finished tying my black sneakers before looking up at her. "What does it look like I'm doing, Jess?" Did I have to spell it out for her or something?

"Well, Claudia, it looks like you're about to do a B&E," she decided, her eyes trailing over my all-black attire. "For Christ's sake, Claudia, you're even wearing a ski mask!"

I nodded, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "And your point would be…?"

"You've lost your mind," she stated flatly, before turning and walking to the door of my room. I just watched, not really caring whether or not she stayed in the room, seeing as I would be leaving in only a matter of moments. "JARED!" she called out suddenly, after opening the door to my room.

I sprang forward. "Jesus Christ, Woman!" I hissed, covering her mouth quickly with a black-gloved hand. She let out a stream of muffled curses as I dragged her back into the room, closing my door as softly as possibly with my foot. "Now listen, I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth, but if you scream, I'm going to have to kill you, and I don't want to do that…" I warned, well, partially warned; the second half was really just me getting overly dramatic while imitating a horror movie villain.

Jess nodded, and, slowly, my hand moved from Jess's mouth, and she didn't make a sound.

"You're such a drama queen," she muttered quietly, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at me.

ME? I'm the drama queen? Pshh. As if.

"Fine, okay, the ski-mask is a little much. Happy now?" I asked sarcastically, taking off the mask and tossing it on my bed. I hoped that would be enough to make her shut up. "Now, please, I'm not going to do anything drastic, just please, please, don't call out again…"

"Fine, fine, fine," she muttered huffily, falling back onto my bed and rolling her eyes again.

"Okay, now please, stay put. I need to go find that picture and delete it," I said, more to myself than to her, as I walked toward the door.

"Picture?" Jess's interested call came from across the room.

"Yeah, he apparently took a picture of me in the shower," I spat bitterly, opening the door and walking out before I'd have to explain anything more. But then, with another thought, I popped my head back into my room. "If I'm not back right away, don't worry. It could take forever to find that stupid camera; I'm sure he hid it well and—"

"Yep, I got it. Don't let him in. I'm on it, boss," she said with a nod, making me eye her warily. She wouldn't let him past if she saw him coming, that I knew for a fact, but the problem was whether or not she would see him. Ah, well. He's out with Sam, and they shouldn't be back for a while, then.

Closing the door again, I quickly walked across the living room and slipped into Jared's room. I was sure to close the door behind me and keep the lights off, so that just in case he came by, he wouldn't immediately know something was up. Which was why I brought a very small, but very powerful flashlight.

Okay, so I may have brought the flashlight partially because it was just plain awesome and it made me feel like a spy.

Clicking the flashlight on, I sent the circle of light over his desk and bed quickly, though I highly doubted it would be hidden in such an obvious place. But then again, that would be Jared; hide it somewhere that it is very obvious, and so perfectly visible that no one looks. I would not make the mistake of putting anything past him.

"Now, if I had to hide a camera with a very humiliating picture of a totally innocent person, just because I'm an asshole like that and have absolutely nothing better to do with my stupid, pathetic…" I stopped, catching myself in the middle of my little rant, and took a deep breath, "…where would I hide it?"

I sent the light rolling over the room quickly, before stopping when it landed on the mattress. That would be the signature spot right there, but would he really think I wouldn't check there? Curious, I moved over to the side of the bed, placing my small flashlight between my lips so that I could still see while I lifted up the mattress.

Nope; nothing there.

Underwear drawer? I turned, taking the light back into my hand, and eyeing the dresser with suspicion. Walking over to it, I opened a drawer, finding myself looking at several pairs of jeans. Nope. Closing it quietly, I continued to look through the drawers, finally finding the underwear and sock drawer after several tries. Silently, I argued with myself over whether or not it was even worth it.

Taking a deep breath for the dramatic effect, I used the flashlight to move several pairs of boxers around, freezing when I caught sight of a magazine. I rolled my eyes, trying to quickly cover it up before I actually had to know what was in the magazine, but the title caught my eye. National Geographic? Oh, and what do you know, it's a feature on baseball.

I rolled my eyes, closing the drawer and looking around the room again. Baseball bat, baseball glove, baseball; he had a lot of baseball things. Which, I suppose, was to be expected when he was catcher on our school's varsity team. But still, I mean, get a life Jarhead.

Turning, I continued to search the room, literally checking everywhere. And the amazing part was that I actually didn't leave a mess. More than a half hour later, I stood in the center of the room, flashlight still in hand, and looked around the room again. I had to have missed a spot because I certainly hadn't found his damn camera. Sighing, I let the light fall on his bed again, and more importantly, on the ruffled comforter. Could it actually have been hidden there?

I started walking forward, but froze as I heard Jared's voice out in the main room of our floor.

"Yeah, that was absolutely hilarious!" he agreed to some earlier question, pausing to laugh. "Yeah, don't worry about it, I'm actually going to go to bed now too."


I dove under the bed as quietly as possible, clicking off the light just as the door opened and the main light was switched on. I watched as sneakers walked passed just in front of me, and as those sneakers were kicked off, along with a pair of socks. I also, much to my dismay, watched as pants and a shirt hit the ground with a thump. But, luckily, my horror was much subdued by my fear that he would find me.

And so, I waited as he got ready, and watched in extreme annoyance when I noticed he sat down at the desk instead of getting into bed. He was typing on his computer. Just fantastic. I had to hold back my sigh of annoyance, and the urge to tell him to just go to bed, and that was no easy task.

After about ten minutes, he finally got into his bed. Whoever said that girls are the only ones that take long to get ready obviously are completely incorrect. Either that, or my assessment of Jared's gender was way off. And I'm willing to bet my assessment is right on; though I'm not as sure about the whole human thing…

Bored out of my mind, I was forced to lie there very uncomfortably, and silently, while I waited for him to fall asleep. And because I was afraid even moving to itch my foot could cause him to check under the bed, I had to spend five of those minutes in agony.

How can you even tell if someone is asleep? I mean, really. I get the whole snoring clue, but what about when someone doesn't snore? How, exactly, do you know then? I know that people say you hear their breathing even out… but come on. Who actually notices that?

After a half hour, according to my watch, I figured it'd be safe to leave now. I slowly scooted out from under the bed, grateful that I was wearing black so that if he did wake up, or was still awake, he wouldn't easily see me. I so told Jess it would come in handy.

When I was back on my feet, I turned to walk towards the door, but I couldn't help but take a quick glance in Jared's direction. And that's when I saw it.

Because my eyes were already well adjusted to the dark, I could easily make out the camera-sized bulge in the pocket of his pants. Cursing, I carefully weighed the risks, before walking over, on my tippy-toes, and reaching down to his pocket. I held my breath as I slowly slipped my hand into his pocket, moving ever so slowly so as to not wake him up.

And then he turned. I, of course, was forced to pull my hand out of his pocket, and nervously watch his face for any signs of consciousness. Thankfully, there were none. I slowly moved my hand forward again, but as I leaned forward, I felt an arm wrap loosely around mine.


I looked down, noting that he was still sleeping, before slowly trying to unlink my arm. But of course, he wouldn't cooperate, even in his sleep. Instead of letting me slip out of reach, he locked his arm tighter around mine. Not being able to loosen his grip from that angle, I was forced to carefully lie down on the bed next to him, and slowly pull my arm up, and out of his grip. When my arm was free, I let out a deep sigh of relief.

But of course, that was too soon, for the second I did, his arm wrapped around me again, but this time, it was around my waist.

Double shit.

And this time, his grip was already too tight. I was pulled against him so that my back was pressed to his chest, while his arm was still wrapped snugly around my waist. I froze as he mumbled something incoherent, and shifted one of his legs so that it, too, wrapped over mine.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying my hardest to ignore the fact that I was being held very possessively, and that because his legs were straddling my hips, I could very easily feel him.

How the hell am I getting out of this?

Slowly, I lifted his arm from my waist, but in doing so, I caused him to move yet again. This time, he rolled fully onto his stomach, his leg still crossing over my hips, and his arm, which I had to let go of, still resting over my ribcage. But now his head was resting on my shoulder, his nose pressed gently against my neck. I could tell he was still sleeping, because if he hadn't been, he would have had his arm on my chest, not just below it.

"Damn it," I muttered very softly, now completely at loss for what I was going to do.

"Cloudy," a soft voice whispered, and I froze again. Had I seriously just waken him up by muttering two stupid words? I'm going to kill myself.

But when nothing else came, I realized that he was indeed sleeping. The fact that he said my name in his sleep worried me; what possible evil plot could he have been dreaming up to torture me with now?

I struggled to get free of his grasp, but the second I moved an inch, he only snuggled closer, his face burrowing into my neck and hair. Are all guys this possessive of whatever they can get their hands on while they're sleeping?

I was about to move when I remembered the camera. Slowly, I reached into his now-accessible pocket, and pulled out the camera victoriously.

Taking a deep breath, I tried one more time to free myself, and, fortunately, he didn't move closer to me this time. Instead, he did something so much worse; he opened his eyes. Though I could still see the cloud of sleep still fogging his view, I knew that he was awake, and soon, he'd realize that I was actually in his bed with him. Cursing myself mentally, I tried to think of a way to get myself out of this.

Most people would have said 'you're dreaming', or something stupid like that, but the way I looked at it, no one ever thought they were dreaming when they were. No dream character ever told them they were dreaming. No, dreams felt real, it was reality that sometimes felt like a dream.

And so, without thinking, I did the one thing that I knew would prove to him that he was sleeping, I smiled tiredly, lifted my head to meet his, and kissed him softly on the lips.

"I've got to go to the bathroom real quick, I'll be right back," I murmured softly, slipping lazily out of his now loose grip and making my way to the door.

"Hurry back," he murmured sleepily in reply, his head dropping softly onto the pillow. I opened the door, looking over my shoulder, and noticed that he was once again asleep. I rolled my eyes, closing the door behind me, and looking down at the camera. I didn't even bother going into my room, but instead powered on the thing and flipped through every picture.

There wasn't one of me in the shower.

I'm so going to kill him.

And, goddamn it, if he woke up in the morning and his camera was mysteriously missing, and he happened to remember something about dreaming that I was in his bed, he might put two and two together, and… I'm so screwed.

And, with my luck, that's exactly what would happen.

Sighing, I did the unthinkable, I turned around and slipped back into the room. Remaining motionless, I was greeted only by silence, and I could have danced in relief. But, that would have been stupid, so, instead, I just ever so quietly moved to the side of his bed, and placed the camera gently underneath the comforter.

There was no way in hell I was going to try and slip it back into his pocket, and deal with all of his weird possessiveness while sleeping. He'd just assume it rolled out of his pocket, so it's all good. And, hell, he might even somehow manage to break the thing, and that would save me from a world of hell. Please, God, if you're out there, let him break the damn thing. I know it's not your usual type of prayer... but please?