Freak (Troyler AU)

Chapter Seventy-Four

*Tyler's POV*

Hello my chicken mcnuggets this is a formal smut warning, you're welcome. This is the fastest I've ever written smut so it may be a mess edit by @KaterinaSivan on twitter bye

"This is an hour after I wanted to leave! It's like this every single year!" Laurelle hissed under her breath, practically throwing each rejected tupperware dish across the room behind her. She'd been looking for one in particular for ages now, completely ignoring everyone else as she invested herself in the hunt. I was seriously beginning to wonder if she'd ever find it.

"Stop worrying, you'll just be fashionably late." I said casually, dismissing her concerns with a wave of my hand. I'd never describe Laurelle as a 'chill' person, but she was noticeably stressed out today. She was cursing under her breath, constantly snapping at people, and just not like herself. She may not be chill usually, but she is a sweetheart. She's never like this.

"No! If we don't leave soon we're not going to make it there before we pass out behind the wheel!" She shouted, looking over her shoulder to glare at me. My eyes went wide, my hands coming up in front of me in defense. She shook her head before turning back to the cupboard she was kneeling in front of, taking back up the familiar rummaging pattern.

I sighed quietly, sinking back in my chair and looking longingly over at the clock. I'd forced myself to get up unbearably early so I wouldn't have to delay them, figuring it was better to be too early than too late. Given our current situation, I realized how stupid that was. Troye was getting out of bed when I got here, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before excusing himself to the shower. That was nearly half an hour ago now. Half an hour of sitting down here in the hectic mess that was his family. I loved them and all, but that was more than enough time around them.

"Honey, have you seen my hat? The one with the straws and the places to keep cans?" I looked up from the table slowly, biting my lip as I prepared myself for the snarky reply Laurelle would give to Shaun's question. You'd think after this long living with her he'd be able to tell when it is a good time to approach her and when it isn't.

"Are you seriously worrying about that right now!? Go load the car!" She screeched, grabbing the nearest tupperware container and actually chucking it at him. He ducked out of the way just in time, muttering grumpily under his breath as he turned out of the door.

"She's like this every single year." I managed to distinguish, chuckling under my breath at how his words matched up with her earlier ones. I looked away, eyes lingering on the tray of squares on the table. They'd been there since I walked into the room, meaning I'd been forced to resist the urge to eat any for half an hour. Naturally, of course I failed. I lasted about two minutes before snatching one and hoping for the best. Now I was fighting the urge to take a second. I guess I should see how she reacts to the first one first though, right?

"Tyler, can you hand me that tray of squares?" And here's my chance! I took a deep breath, getting to my feet and cautiously picking up the tray. I walked over, settling it on the counter beside where she was kneeling. She stood up immediately then, eyes wide and eager. They narrowed into a squint when she saw the space lacking a square, my heart beating faster as I debated how this would go. God, you'd think I'd know better than to steal a crabby person's squares. On the upside, it was pretty good, probably even worth whatever the consequence will be. "Did you eat one!?"

"I- Well, they were right there and..." I trailed off, sighing softly as I realized there was no reasonable way to explain my actions. They looked good so I ate them, consequences be damned. I doubted she'd appreciate that honest answer though.

I was still struggling to come up with a reply, watching her anger visibly grow through her features, when a quiet laugh sounded from behind us. I spun around eagerly, giving a wide smile when I found Troye leaning against the door frame. He was only wearing a towel, which was totally rude of him to do. Does he not realize where my mind travels seeing him wearing that little? I don't want to think about that stuff with his family in the room.