Hey guys, i'm so sorry for updating so late. erm, i am busy with my school work as well as being caught up with some stuff at home. i am kinda still busy but i tried to post this up for you guys. I know that this is a really short chapter, but i think it is the best place for me to stop it. anyways, i think i am able to post more often with shorter chapters, is that ok with you guys? i already had the story planned out, it's just that i need the time to write them up.
oops, i think i'm rambling too much here. so, on with the story...
disclaimer: do not own twilight. stephenie does. unfortunately, she owns edward too.. :(
"Jerk," I muttered after seeing a camera on his lap. Any form of apologies disappeared from my mind. There is no single coherent thought in my mind except how I detest this man before me. I rolled my eyes and averted my gaze away from him.
Stupid idiot paparazzo.
If I weren't so mad at him, I would have melted at the sound of his voice. I ignored him and tried to get up from the ground. When I was straightened up, I brushed off the dirt on my skirt and saw from the corner of my eyes that the man stood up as well.
"I'm sorry, Miss. I didn't mean to run into you. Are you okay?" he asked. I saw him raising the camera a little.
I looked up to give him a piece of my mind and maybe to smash the camera into pieces.
I was speechless.
"Miss, are you okay?" he took a step closer to me, an eyebrow raised. "I didn't knock you out too bad, did I? Do you think you hit your head?" he asked.
Great. Now he thinks I am an incoherent fool. Stupid idiot amazing mesmerizing piercing green eyes. Bella, get a hold of yourself. He is still a jerk paparazzo even with his penetrating green eyes. And his face, God bless him, he had the perfect face. He can even run against Brad Pitt for his looks.
I snapped out of my thoughts.
"I'm fine," the bitterness in my voice unintentionally seeping out. His eyebrows rose higher and then turned into a frown.
"Did I do something that offended you? I don't get a good vibe from you since the beginning," he said.
I rolled my eyes. "Well, it's not you in general. It's what you do for a living," I snapped.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. And I don't think there's anything wrong with what I'm-,"
My blood boiled. "Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong? I just freaking came back from an 8-month shoot in Malaysia, I can flipping see my news in every channel on TV even on Animal Planet for God's sake, everywhere I go I am hounded by paparazzi, but that's fine. I know it comes with the job. But, when I finally had the freaking time to spend time with my boyfriend, you and your work buddies went snooping into our business and ruined that for me too. God, can't you guys just give me a break?" I ranted. I think the guy had no idea what the heck I am talking about. Hell, I don't even understand myself.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," the guy said.
I sighed. "I need my space. I know that you guys are just doing your job, but I desperately need my space. I can't even enjoy the sanctuary in my own home without you guys snooping around. I can't even spend time with Jake without you guys hounding on our backs, ugh. Damn freak show paparazzi,"
I took a deep breath and exhaled.
He chuckled. I looked at him incredulously. He shrugged. "I get that part about the whole paparazzi ruining your life thing, but I still don't get what that had to do with what I do for a living that offended you,"
Then, he smiled a crooked smile. Damn, I would love to smack that smile out of his gorgeous face.
I rolled my eyes. "Do you want to get a picture of me for your magazine to be featured? I'm sure you'll get paid quite fairly," I said, fed up. Maybe he'll just leave me alone when I give him what he wanted.
"Huh?" he tilted his head to one side to seem like he was clueless about whatever that I am talking, but the smirk on his face tells me otherwise.
"UGH, do you need me to spell it our for you? I practically just gave you permission to snap a picture of me and you're there, doing nothing," I said through gritted teeth.
He smirked, again.
I swear my blood pressure level increased tenfold just by interacting with this annoying paparazzo.
His grin got wider, there's a twinkle of understanding in his eyes. "I am not a paparazzo," he said, his tone amused. He was looking at me as though I am retarded or mentally impaired.
My mouth opened and closed in interval, like a goldfish. This action seemed to amuse him even more as he chuckled. That's when my blood boiled.
Paparazzo or not, gorgeous or not, this man is getting on my nerves and I don't like him one bit.
one question, is the paparazzo the singular of paparazzi? i kinda confuse myself there.
anyways, please review!