camera girl {alex turner x femme reader}

alex x yn part 24

trigger warnings: alcohol and tobacco depictions

i like to think i've entered a somewhat euphoric state. things just feel better. like when the music sounds good again, or when you don't feel the need to be mad at everything anymore.

there's a small bit of me who is anxious for yn's call, but i push it to the back of my mind. for now, i'm lazily sprawled out across my settee. the tv is on but i'm not paying much mind to it. i don't much care, but the sound of people talking seems to help fill a quiet emptiness in my apartment.

i drag the back of my hand across my face, trying to wipe away the tears that dried hours ago. they made my face all wet and stuck my hair onto my cheek and i'm sure i looked like a knob. now that they've dried, they make my face feel dry and stuck, and i doubt i've made a single expression towards anything since.

i don't really know why i was crying, which is odd because i'm not particularly notorious for crying. the only people who have seen me crying are my mum, the band, miles, and now yn.

i hope she doesn't feel guilty about it, but i don't know how she could because she didn't even do anything.

i bring my attention back to my phone, sitting lifelessly on the coffee table. the screen reflects the lamps in the room, but there are no notifications. no calls.

the tea kettle whistles for attention and i push myself up. as i walk by the tv, i turn it off and head into the kitchen.

all of the mugs beside one are dirty, and it's the worst one. i handmade it in a pottery class i took on a whim a few years back. it was my desperate attempt to "reconnect with art" to help me think of more music. it teeters back and forth on every surface, and there's a small crack at a certain point that forces you to watch the exact moment to stop pouring.

i groan and put the mug in front of me, carefully pouring the scolding water into the mug. it's about halfway full, when the phone goes off. the slicing ring through the room makes me jump, and the mug knocks onto the floor. miraculously it doesn't break, but i'm more focused on the fact that i've fully grabbed onto the burning metal of the tea kettle to stop it from dropping.

a yelp escapes me as i run to the sink, turning on the warm water. i stop to grab my phone from the table, then i continue cooling my skin.

"hey," it's yn. her voice is croaky but soft. there's a familiar hum of her air conditioning unit in the background, but other than that it's complete silence.

"hi," i mutter through gritted teeth. a low whine escapes me as i run the water along my skin, the burn not yet numb.

a small breath is let out on the other side of the phone, followed by an unsteady, "have i got you at a bad time?"

"no no! i just burnt meself with the tea kettle it hurts like hell," i reassure.

"oh glory," she groans, "are you okay?"

"ye, it's cooling off now. what'd you need?"

"i just-it's so empty in here and lilly is staying at another friends because she thinks i need some space after what happened with allen, but the truth is i really don't and-i was gonna ask if you could come over but if you're hurt i want you to stay home and i know it's late so i'm sorry," she gushes. her emotions are on edge lately, and she thinks every small thing she does will end up poorly.

i pause for a moment and turn the sink faucet off. the red on my skin slowly fades, but it still stings.

"i'll see you in a bit," is followed by me quickly hanging up and placing my phone face down on the table, doing everything to avoid protest.

i pick up my keys and make my way out the door, having given up on the tea. the air has become colder since i was outside with yn, so i run back inside and wrap myself in a navy blue overcoat and get in the car.

as i turn it on, my too-rye-ay cd starts back up, resuming at the spot i last left it whilst i drove home.

i pull out of the parking lot and am greeted with cars and cabs honking and screeching in every direction, definitely cramming more cars than is legal into one lane. people are stumbling down the sidewalks, most drunk or in skimpy outfits that look as if they've been pulled or grabbed. confetti trails behind them from being stuck on their shoes. 

i roll my window down and lean my head out of the side, watching a group of teenagers tumbling across the street in front of me.

"oi! where are you lot coming from?" i shout to them. most of them are drunk, giving me a response by spinning in circles in attempts to figure out where my voice is. one older boy is guiding the drunken kids across the street and he stops to turn to me.

"a one direction concert, mate!"

i smile at him but retreat back behind the wheel, groaning. this would take a good while.

"i'm sorry could ye hurry, i have to be somewhere, i don't mean to be rude," i reply slowly so it would sink into their trashed heads.

a girl with nothing but a ripped t-shirt that's too many sizes too big and a thong jumps in front of my car, blocking me. she's drunk and she's soaring across the sky.

"yooooou've to go to a meeeeeting," she guesses. i shake my head.

"then where ye offfffff tooo?"

"nowhere important, now excuse me."

"you're a looker," she walks around the side of my car and leans her head into the window, taking in a deep breath.

"um i'm sorry i really ought to be off," i mutter and gently push her face away from mine.

"OH YOU NEED TO SEE YOUR BOOOOYFRIEND!"

"oh i-"

"ITS YOUR GIRLFRIEND INNIT? IM NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR YOU," she begins to wail, slumping out of my car, running back to her group.

i'm shocked out of my words, but i quickly pull out before my chance is lost. the cars still inch forward through the streets, and my cd jerks to a silent stop.

it's been 15 minutes and i've made it...out of my parking lot.