vegas | H.S.

p r e t e n t i o u s i n v i t e s

"Vegas, please let me make it up to you. I'm your best friend, and I know you still love your little Li," He was doing that on purpose. Cooing me like some child. He knew that I fall victim to him using third person perspective, especially when my nickname for him is used. "Come on, Vee."

"Stop.."

"Vee, I'll come over later, and we will watch anything you want on Netflix. Even re-runs of the Office," He added with a smug tone.

"You hate the Office though." There were countless memories of Liam verbally ridiculing the epitome of comedic genius, and I still have then lunged into my hypothalamus.

"Not for you I don't. Vee, let me make it up to you. I promise you it will never happen again as long as I'm obsessed with you. Okay?" He pleaded with his voice low in volume. I could hear faint voices in the background, but nothing I could make out clearly.

"You are obsessed with me?"

"Yes, I am," He pledged as my visual side imagined him raising his hand to his large, loving heart. "And, I will always be."

He was cunning. Very sly with his words and the way in which he used them. As much as it hardened me to forgive him, for I hold the longest grudges, I gave in to his proposals, whimpering into the line.

"Fine, fine. I'll be done shopping later. I want you in my place at eight, no later. Bring food," I ordered, ears pressed to the device. "Got it, James?"

"Yes, Adele. Thank you."

Our goodbyes were simple and friendly and only lasting little over a minute. I stuffed the iPhone to my pocket, huffing at the vulnerability I allowed myself to form at the reason of Liam's absence.

"Rough day?" A voice called to me, distracting my attention from my trance. My orbs gaze to a female with darken blonde locks laying under a knitted beanie. Her hazel eyes studying me like a cold case.

"Uh..you can say that," I chuckled, shifting to face her.

"Ah, I've had one of those days. A lot," Her eyebrows raised in agreement. "Say, I've seen you before."

"That's highly likely."

"Oh, you are the woman that was in the hospital for that tragic allergic reaction. I'm sorry about that," Her hand pressed to my bicep, comforting the subsided pain.

"Oh, no. It's not your fault at all," I shook my head in opposition, hands raised in defense. "I've learned to keep an epipen everywhere I go now."

"Did my brother ever visit you in the hospital?"

Brother. . .Liam's sisters look nothing like this woman. I'm puzzled.

"Wait. Who is your brother again?" I inquired, tilting my head forward.

"Oh, that figures. He probably didn't talk much about me," says the mystery woman before she jets her eyes to view me. "Harry is my brother."

As I travel to a section of memory dedicated to Harry's facts and pet peeves, I peruse over a certain topic of his family. He has mentioned before of his mother and father staying within Holmes Chapel in a comfortable cottage off the radar, but there was no mention of an older sister. Did I really miss something?