"Lizzy!"
"What?"
"What the fuck are you doing, you idiot!"
Sylvia slammed the front door to the flat shut behind her as she stormed towards where I was sitting on the island in the middle of the kitchen.
"What are you doing here?" I asked her, but I didn't really care. I looked at the bottle next to me and reached for it but she shoved it off the counter, knocking it onto the floor. It shattered.
"Oh my god, look what you've done, why the fuck would you do that?" I mumbled nonchalantly as I got off the island and walked over to the cupboard that we kept the alcohol in.
Sylvia pulled me away from the cupboard and slammed it shut before I could take another bottle out.
"No." She said firmly, pointing at me with her index finger. I frowned and tried to bite it.
"Why are you even here? I don't need you here."
"You weren't answering the phone, so I was worried."
"Shut up, you weren't. George just told you to check in on me, I bet." I growled, standing up and gripping onto the edge of the counter tightly as the room began spinning in my head.
"Lizzy, I don't even know George."
She grabbed my wrist as I turned to walk away.
"Can'tyou just leave? I'm fine, I'm fucking fine, okay? I'm totally great..." I trailed off and sighed.
"No. You're sad, you're shitfaced, I'm not leaving."
"I'm fine." I mumbled softly as I staggered into the living room with her following me.
"How much have you been drinking anyway?" She asked as I threw myself face first down onto the sofa and groaned quietly.
"Nowhere near enough." I said simply. She turned me over almsot effortlessly and sat me up.
"I think you've had way too much." She concluded. I giggled.
"Look at you, being all sensible. It doesn't suit you at all." I frowned at her, she shook her head.
"This doesn't suit you. I don't know what the fuck has happened to you, Lizzy."
I frowned even more.
"I'll tell you what happened. My boyfriend has been in a fucking coma for the past- fuck, fuck I don't even know how long it's been."
It had been two months.
George, Adam and Ross had all come back to London, but none of us had spoken. We needed space, at least, that was what we were telling ourselves.
"Sorry..." Sylvia sighed and looked at her shoes.
"It's fine." It really wasn't.
Sylvia looked at me and sighed again.
"Maybe you should go up there again."
"No." I answered straight away. Even in my fuzzy, drunken state, I was being serious.
"You should really think about it." She said.
"I have." I replied. "I've spent the past two months solely thinking about him, and since I've been here, all I've thought about is how much I want to see him."
"Then why don't you?"
"Because it scares me, Sylvia. I don't want to see him like that, it's painful and- and... I don't want to see him so close to death." I whimpered.
YOU ARE READING
Hurricane // Matty Healy ♣ The 1975
Fanfiction///SEQUEL TO WATER/// Love is a ridiculous, cruel thing. thank you to @artiepants for the amazing cover.