Bullied | punk luke hemmings au *COMPLETED*

Chapter 35

I woke up pretty early the next morning but Kate was still asleep so I decided to head downstairs.

I saw Justin walking around the kitchen with a bin bag in his hand.

"Good party?"
"Gemma! Hey. Yeah it was." He laughed slightly.

I headed over to the drawer where I know that they keep the bin bags in and lifted one out.

"Woah- wha-what are you doing?" He asked me cautiously.
"I'm helping you clean up, idiot." I laughed.
"My party, my responsibility. Go back to bed or go home."
"Justin-"
"Some friends are on their way to help me, it's fine." He smiled.

I continued picking up empty beer cans and plastic cups and placing them in my bin bag.

"Gemma! Go hooome!" Justin moaned, stretching out the 'o'.
I just laughed at him, Justin and I are friends, but anytime he throws a party he insists on cleaning it up himself or with a few people that were actually at the party.

"Justin, I honestly couldn't give a shit if your friends are coming to help- I'm helping you too."
He sighed.
"Fine, but you've gotta stop this, it's not fair on you. You've helped me after three parties, I'll just have to make sure you stop coming over." He teased and I lightly hit his forearm.

"I'll take the hall and livingroom, you take the garden and then when my mates get here I'll send one of them out to help you, deal?"
"I don't need help, Justin." I replied before walking out to the garden.

I was lifting cans out of the grass when I heard the patio doors open behind me.
"Justin I don't need he-"
I stopped mid-sentence when I turned and saw the tall tattooed blonde standing by the doors with a bin bag in his hand.

"What're you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question." He replied.
"I spent the night here- you?"
"Justin called me to help clean up."
"You know Justin?"
"Yeah I do." He replied bluntly.
"How?"
"Is that really any of your concern?"

I rolled my eyes and continued picking up the rubbish left in the grass.
We must've tidied without talking for all of five minutes before he spoke again.

"Why are you wearing Dylan's jacket?"
"He told me to keep it."
"Doesn't mean you have to wear it." He huffed.
"What's your problem?"
"You're my problem."