Hate At First Sight (Larryxreader)

|~|Chapter Two|~|

I have never been this angry before.

I have tried everything, but this man will not fall asleep.

I've given him tea, after tea, after tea, and he's still awake.

After a good forty-five minutes of trying to make him fall asleep, I found myself standing over my sink and struggling to get the lid off a pill bottle. Furiously, I pry off the top and let ten white capsules fall out and onto the counter. Slamming the cap back on, I used the bottom of the bottle to crush the capsules into a fine powder.

I use my hand to push the powder off the counter and into a cup of addison tea. After stirring the two and being absolutely sure it all dissolved properly, I made my way back into the elevator, ignoring whatever mess I made in the bathroom.

I swear to god if this doesn't work...

I took my brother's sleeping pills from his bedroom. He doesn't need them, he just pretends he does, I swear. I know from experience that one of these pills knocks you out almost instantly, so if the amount in this cup doesn't make him fall asleep he's simply not human.

I didn't bother knocking on his door, as I had grown close to Charley throughout my twenty-something visits. "Hey, Charley!"

"Is that Addison Tea I smell?" Charley was disgusting. His shirt was edged with yellow stains, and his chair was coated in a brown crust. Several other mystery stains littered the ground around his seat, but I did my best to ignore them.

"Yep!" I chimed, plastering on a fake smile. I hesitantly made my way over to him. "Here you go!"'

Charley had beads of sweat running down his face, as if simply living was some sort of exercise. "As much as I love the stuff, I don't know if I can drink another drop today. As surprising as that sounds."

My smile twitched.

Excuse me? He is going to drink this if I have to shove it down his throat. I've been at this for almost an hour. I'm not giving up because he's full.

"Really? But it's a new recipe Mr.Addison is trying out! I've already had about five cups myself, and it's way better than the first-." As if I would ever drink this weird concoction.

"Oh, well, I just have to try that! Give it here!" He ripped the cup out of my grasp, rubbing his thick palm sweat all over my hands.

I deserve an award for the amount of effort it took to not barf on the spot.

"You're right! This is better than the original! I don't know how he-!" And like that, he was asleep.

I waited a few seconds to see if he would wake up this time, and upon seeing him not, I broke out into a fit of whines. "Oh my god, ew, ew, ew!" I jumped around, desperately trying to wipe my hands on my jeans. No matter how much I rubbed them raw with the denim, they still felt coated in grime.

Shivering, I pulled out the bag Larry gave me and made my way to his shrine of Glitter Ponies(I had, against my will, learned all about them in my many talks with Charley). I placed my hand in the bag, turned it inside out, and used it to carefully pick up the figurine in question. The bottom of its hooves were caked in blood, and its hair was stringy with some kind of substance, but I couldn't tell what. So he got up and murdered someone, but he didn't bother to clean up the evidence? It didn't make sense. Someone who treasured this thing as much as he did would put in the five minutes to clean it.

Shrugging off my doubts, I hurried out of the apartment, making sure no one saw me. Leave no witnesses, and all that, right?

I stood in front of the elevator, my hand hovering over the up and down buttons. Sighing, I reached down and pulled up the walkie talkie. "Hey, what floor is the detective on?"