Preacher Man // ross lynch + driver era

123

"I wonder what Kayla and Chance have been up to," I tell him, sitting on my knees in my closet as I pull out my clothes one by one to hang and organize.

Ross is in his, but he somehow hears me perfectly although I talk low. "And Ellington. I haven't talked to all of those people in so long."

"I heard Ellington was engaged?" I respond, not necessarily trying to gossip, but what else could we possibly talk about?

He scoffs.

"He was single last time we were around, but who knows. Haven't talked to him in forever, don't care to," Ross answers.

Fair enough.

Moving on from friends you have known since you were young is always a hard move. It'll never get easier, but people change. It doesn't necessarily mean for the worst, but the things that kept you together might not be enough anymore. You might grapple to any sort of trickle of hope as the friendship falls apart and drifts, but it might not be a bad thing. I think that was one of the biggest lessons I needed to realize when growing up.

With that being said...

Fuck Kayla.

"Do you follow Chance on any social media?" I wonder, thinking about what she is up to.

I don't want to ask Liv because I don't want her to think I care about that friendship. Liv knows I don't like her so she doesn't bring her up to me, especially because she would never talk bad about her friends.

He laughs again. "You think I would follow him on social media after his girlfriend was a bitch to mine? No, babe."

I smile as I slide a plain shirt onto the hanger, leaning up so I can place it onto the rod. I'm almost done with my boxes.

"Okay, okay. I was just curious," I respond, putting the last sweatshirt on the hanger and rod then walking out of the closet to see how he's doing. "Ross," I whine, stopping at the foot of his door to see him on his phone.

He looks up at me and smiles. "Hi. Are you done yet?"

"I've finished. You clearly have two boxes left," I say, glaring down at him.

We were supposed to do the kitchen next and I need his help so he needs to finish. He grabs my hand and pulls me into his lap, putting his phone back in front of us on Chance's Facebook.

I lean my head against his, watching as he scrolls through his public posts.

"He's too nice for her," he admits, stopping at the photo of the two of them.

I nod. "Yeah, she's a mean girl." I agree before reaching over and locking his phone. "Now, back to work, please."

He groans and places his phone on the floor, burying his face into my neck. I sigh, feeling his arms wrap around my stomach, tugging me closer to him. Once I give him hardly a reaction, he leans up and whines. "Fine. I don't want you mad at me, but I want your cuddles," he admits.

I lean in and give him a quick kiss. "After," I promise.

I know if we don't get it finished, we never will so I have to push and push until it's done.

We swiftly move through the rest of the belongings, plugging in a speaker and playing the oldies on a high volume. A volume neither of us could have played in a very long time - afraid to annoy anyone else we lived with.

The air felt light around us.

It was though a burden was off my shoulders, the air gliding into my lungs just a little bit easier.