Hate At First Sight (Larryxreader)

|~|Chapter one|~|

My smile twitched as I let my hand fall back to the box. Deep breaths, me. No need to lose your cool so early in the conversation. "So, uh, can I ask what happened?" I tried to peer in, but my view was blocked by Officer Douche.

"No, you can't," he growled, "Move along."

"Oh," I grit my teeth, letting my smile morph into a sarcastic one. "Well, I'm sorry. How dare I ask about the apartment right next to mine? So rude of me."

He huffed, "Look, I don't get paid to babysit. Scram."

"I don't think it's unreasonable to want to know what's going on." I lowered my leg, holding my box with two hands. "Since, you know, it's on the other side of my wall." I spit, not sticking around to hear his next set of words.

As I shoved open the entrance to the apartment, I took in the mess that is my new home. A scoffed escaped me, and my twisted expression never left as I wandered into the kitchen.

After placing the box down on the counter, I wrung my hands. They were red from holding those cardboard handles for so long, but I didn't care.

Opening the fridge, I sighed in contempt. No food. I don't know what I was expecting.

I made my way back out into the living room and over to a different door. Pushing it open, my jaw dropped. It was the most disgusting, puke-inducing bathroom I have ever seen in my life.

Slamming it, I grabbed my box from the kitchen and moved to the bedrooms. There were three, so I picked the one farthest away and closest to the opposite wall. Mostly because on the other side of that wall was whatever that policeman was hiding. I dropped the cardboard on the ground and leaned against the door frame. My eyes scanned the dreary walls, taking it in. Sighing, I turned back to the front door, heading to the car to get more boxes.

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All the boxes had been taken out of the car and brought up to the room. I did a lot of it, since my mom does barely anything, my dads the same way, and my brother is the favorite so he doesn't have to work.

I was sitting on the floor of my room, playing with my old gear boy. It wasn't the newest model, but it was still fun.

My mother walked in, immediately stopping and staring at the sea of boxes. Her gaze lands on my gear boy, a new flame of anger igniting in her eyes.

"Could you please get off your ass and do something?" She snaps.

She isn't abusive by any means, she's just not a nice person sometimes. I still love her, though.

I looked up at her with clear annoyance. "What? I've done so much around here already, get Eric to do something."

"Help us unpack, Eric's done enough!" She spoke, pointing to the living room behind her.

I stood, "Eric's done nothing!" Too wrapped up in my own emotions, it never occurred to me that people outside might overhear our argument.

Mom walked out, heading back to the kitchen. "You're so lazy, you know that?"

I followed her, stubbornly not wanting to give up. "How am I lazy?! I've done everything you've asked-!"

"Really? Everything?" She crossed her arms, "So you've unpacked?"

"That's the only thing I haven't done!" I threw my arms in the air in frustration, "I wanted five minutes to sit and relax!"

"You've been relaxing all day! Your father and I haven't gotten a break yet!"

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously? I did everything!" I moved towards the front door angrily, "I didn't even want to move here, I was fine at the old house!"