PewDieCry: Shy

Chapter 12

A/N: Hey Guys! So, here's an update. Sorry for the delay. I've just started college so it's been a pretty hectic week. I'm settling in now though so things should get back to normal here on Wattpad. Thanks for being so patient. You're all amazing!

Pewds’ P.O.V

I narrowed my eyes, watching the front door with such attention that I’d flinch every time a noise came from behind the thin wood. The blood was rushing to my head and I relished in the odd feeling that came with hanging upside-down on the back of the sofa.

He was supposed to be here half an hour ago. Last night, I’d told him 11am...

I turned, watching the hand move around the clock until it hit the minute mark, making Cry exactly 31 minutes late now.

Maybe he forgot? Perhaps he’s busy, got better things to do?

I sat up, closing my eyes for a moment as everything turned the right way up. The sun shone in through my closed curtains, reminding me of how I needed to get some better ones, and my eyes fell on the clean counter in the kitchen. If I knew he wasn’t going to show up I wouldn’t have bothered clearing that mess up. So much half eaten pizza got thrown out this morning...what a waste. At least I know what colour the counters are now...a dull yellow, making it look dirty even though it’s clean.

Pulling myself up, I walked over to the kitchen, tugging up my shorts when I felt them sliding down my hips as I grabbed a glass and poured some whiskey into it.

It’s okay, Whiskey. We don’t need Cry. You and I can have fun together. I gave the glass a quick kiss before drinking up the brown liquid and pouring another.

Just when the glass hit my lips again, I turned to the front door, my eyes widening as it swung open and Cry came falling into my apartment.

“Shit, sorry, Pewds. I just woke up and...”

He froze. His gaze fell on my drink as his hands tugged his t-shirt down, his chest rising and falling in time with his heavy breathing. Had he left the apartment without a shirt? The thought alone made me laugh to myself, remembering how he always complained about my lack of clothing around the flat.

“I was in a rush,” he said defensively when he noticed me staring at his wrinkled clothes.

“Oh yeah? Wanted to see me that bad, did you?” I teased, noticing his bare feet and how he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What can I say?” he shrugged. “I’m a keen learner.”

Glancing at the glass, I stretched my hand out, offering Cry the whiskey with a smirk. To my surprise, he actually stepped forward and took it from me.

“I can see. It seems you’re picking up some bad habits,” I murmured as I watched the whiskey slide into his mouth, unable to look away when he licked a drop from his lips.