"Call out the instigators
Because there's something in the air"
The knock on my door at 6pm that night is the last thing I needed, I was still licking my wounds from my outburst that morning with Harry and dealing with the hang over from hell.
I hadn't moved from the couch, just stayed curled up there with Gizmo watching re-runs of TV shows and hoping it drowned out the war in my head.
It didn't, but it was better than nothing.
I must have taken too long to answer, which is understandable. I did ignore the knocks at first, contemplating if I should just pretend I was asleep - I really didn't feel up to interacting with anyone.
But, next thing I know, a key was jingling in the door and Frankie is barging through it.
"Did you throw your phone across the fuckin pacific ocean Drew?" he snaps exasperated, stomping towards the couch and throws his arms out in front of himself.
"Hello to you too" I deadpan, blinking at him from my spot on the couch with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders and Gizmo snoring with his head in my lap.
He glares at me with a flat look, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek "I've spent the last five hours worried sick so I'd watch the sarcasm sunshine"
Sunshine has always been his ironic nickname for me, since he's known me. Mainly because I'm such a pessimistic piece of shit most of the time.
I never use to be... But people change.
The nickname for me usually comes out the most when he's worried, and judging by the stressed look on his face, I'm gonna be hearing that nickname a lot.
I scrunch my nose up "Worried? Why? You know I'm useless with my phone - it's in the bedroom on silent"
He brings his hands up in the air near his face, shrugging with his voice dripping in sarcasm and wide comical eyes "Oh I dunno Drew. Maybe it's because my idiot cousin gets home today looking as miserable as a flaccid penis, and then I find out he took you out last night but won't tell me what happened. Do you have any idea how hard it is to make that dickhead upset? And then he starts asking me all these weird fucking questions about you - he was worse than a worried mother. Now spill it sunshine - what happened?"
"What was he asking about me?" I question while my face drops, I don't like that. It gives me this weird feeling in my gut and I want it to go away. I don't want him knowing things about me.
Why would he care? Why was he so upset?
Frankie puts his hands on his hips, squinting at me "Don't avoid my question. Now start talking - I've spent the last few hours in panic over how you are, so I'm not dropping this until you explain"
"I'm fine" I lie, keeping my face blank "I'm sorry I worried you, but I'm fine. It wasn't a big deal"
Frankie cups his hand behind his ear, leaning towards me and creases his brows "I beg your pardon? I'm not fluent in bullshit, you'll have to translate"
"Frankie..." I groan, squeezing my eyes shut and drop my head back against the couch.
"Drew" he mocks in the same tone, and moves to plop himself down next to me on the couch.
He has no intention of dropping this, there's that fucking stubbornness of his again.
I keep my head resting against the back of the couch with my eyes still closed "Nothing happened" I sigh.
YOU ARE READING
Perspective. |H.S| Harry StylesMystery / Thriller
*CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT* Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying? ~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Preview: "Do you think, if you jumped from this roof - it'd feel like falling or flying?" I ask, keeping up with our theme of a...