English Rose - liam gallagher fic

17. the man in the iron mask

"You were meant to hold me back," I told Liam with a chuckle as we were sat in my kitchen. The roles had been reversed for a change.

"I couldn't hold you back after she said that to you," he defended himself, and me as well I suppose.

He held an ice pack to my growing black eye as I held a wet kitchen towel against my bloody lip.

"Remember when we'd been mates about two days or somet this was the other way round?" He laughed and I nodded.

The phone rang and I asked Liam to get it as I put the red stained cloth into the sink and started coating it in Vanish washing powder and scrubbed in futile attempt to get the stains out.

"Holly?" Liam shouted from the living room wall phone.

"Yeah?"

"It's for you," he told me, and I looked through the door frame to him holding the phone out for me to take.

I walked over to him, and asked him to chuck the tea towel over the garden fence.

"Ello?" I asked, holding the phone against my ear and sitting on the arm of the couch.

"Oi," said a familiar southern accent, "what the fuck are you doing on Oxford Street?"

"You wha?" I laughed at his ridiculousness.

"Your face is plastered all over central London, on your fucking Adidas thing," Graham told me, and I felt myself blushing in embarrassment.

"You're having my life."

"I'm not," he said to me, chuckling, "I've just got in and thought I should tell you cos I can't fucking go anywhere without seeing your big head on the back of a bus."

"Fuck off," I laughed, "that's mad."

"You're gonna be massive y'know," he told me and I leaned my head against the wall and Liam came into the room, sitting on the armchair opposite.

"So everyone keeps telling me," I said and Liam furrowed his eyebrows at me inquisitively, and I mouthed to him that I'd tell him in a sec.

"I'll let you know if you end up in Camden," he told me with a laugh. "Then you'll be an indie icon."

"Haahaha ah right cheers," I said cackling.

I put the phone down, and looked to Liam and huffed in disbelief.

"Apparently the new adidas adverts are out, and my face is all over London," I told him, grinning and his mouth dropped open before he laughed.

"Someone should get a picture of you now," he told me, "like a before and after thing."

"Be happy for me!" I told him, laughing and hitting his chest.

"What d'ya want me to say? I'm not Martha," he laughed. "I'm not saying well done - you haven't done nowt."

"You're horrible," I chuckled but I was disrupted by the front door slamming open.

My sister's evidently drunk legs stumbled in for the first time all week. She hasn't been to college for about three weeks now.