I Don't Love You

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The ride to Millie's apartment had been quiet.

Even if there was so much to say, neither of them were inclined to utter a single word. They were sharing a space together (and that was new) but still, they did not feel comfortable enough to chat like old friends or acquaintances.

Millie had her head rested on the window, while Finn was tiredly driving with just an arm; he always looked in front of him. If he did tilt his head, he would be distracted by her, and that was no good.

His eye lids were almost closing for the sleepiness; but he needed to stay awake. So, after forty minutes of deadly silence, he dared to bring on a pseudo civil conversation.

"We are going to be on every newspaper tomorrow." He pointed out, already feeling his nerves tensing.

Newspapers were stupid. Gossip channels? Even more. But no matter what he did, he always found himself on there. His name was combined with hers even if they weren't friends anymore. A constant. Wolfhard-Brown. The duo. The lovers. The enemies. The same old story.

"I know." Millie admitted quietly, arms crossed tightly to her chest while staring out of the window.

Los Angeles never slept. Hollywood neither. It sucked the soul out of you, and when they were done with it, they threw it into the trash, looking for another body to slaughter.

"And this is because of you. How— How could you do that? Couldn't you just go home instead of playing Dora the fucking explorer around Los Angeles?" His voice raised dangerously.

"You are seriously blaming me? I have... I have run away because what you have said to me! Because you hurt me!" She finally turned her head to him, offended again by his words.

Why couldn't he shut up for once?

She was currently having a breakdown, craving for some silence, sleep and an aspirin to shut down her brain after that messy day, and yet, he still kept on with their endless fight.

"Have I such an impact on you? Good to know. But you were overreacting. You have to stop being like this."

She raised her brows in surprise, "And how should I be? Like you?"

"Like me?" He questioned, confused.

"Yeah, should I be different? Acting superior? Acting passive aggressive? Being an insensitive friend and an asshole? No, thanks. I'd rather be an over dramatic child than being you, Finn Wolfhard."

Millie always had that thing of saying his full name. He was just not Finn; he was Finn Wolfhard, especially when she angry to him.

She caught her cigarettes from her purse and lightened one, trying to look for some comfort and relax in nicotine. When he was around, her addiction amplified.

God. He was such a toxic presence — she couldn't wait to get a rid of him, now.

"Wait a minute, you smoke?" His eyes widened in surprise while seeing Miss I don't do anything wrong Brown blowing out some smoke.

"No, it's an illusion of your mind." She scoffed, exhaling a cloud of smoke to calm herself and forgetting about her current situation.

Her, upset as hell, being in Finn's car while he was driving her home after two years of silence. Who would ever think of it? Surely, not her.

"Seriously— do not smoke in my car." Finn commended, so weirded out seeing her acting like this.

"What? Why? You used to smoke too!" She argued, rolling her eyes.

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