In the depth of the night, amidst your slumber, you sense a gentle shift in the bed, prompting you to instinctively reach for anything near and you settle for a book,right on your nightstand.You jolt out of bed,ready to hit the person intruding with the book,only to see that bathed in the moon that peeks through the curtains stands the silhouette of Xaden Riorson, the feared,mysterious and...hot,honestly,wingleader of the fourth wing,well-and your 'enemy',if sleeping with your enemies counts...more like 'friends' with benefits,but that doesn't fit either...

With a chuckle at your reaction,his lips curve upward into a smirk,tugging at those goddamn frustratingly perfect lips,as he speaks "Hm?Well what a feisty little thing you are." and he clicks his tongue,then approaches you,pushing you back onto the bed "Sit,love." he commands,his tone both mocking and authoritative.You scowl,but comply.He was still the damn wingleader after all,as unfairly frustrating as that may be.