Starlight | Fillie

I Don't Love You

"Yeah, but you see me doing that in my car? No. Out of the window. Now." He pressed a button and let the window on her side roll down.

With an huff, she threw the Marlboro out of the car, "Wow, now you care about my health..."

"I care about my car not being stinky with your smoke." He ended the conversation with a dry grimace, finally turning left and still following the GPS that lead to her house.

After a while, they pulled over in the underground private parking of the building. There, he could spot a white Mercedes — apparently Millie's car.

"God, it's almost two a.m and my house is still on the other part of the city. I won't be there until four." He whined loudly while checking the hour on the phone.

"You can— you can stay here if you want." Millie suddenly said, as she was walking out the car and grabbing her shopping bags from the back of it.

"No." He stayed sat on his car, not even moving an inch.

Actually, he was ready to go. That option didn't even cross his damn mind.

"Alright. I just see you're very tired and I... I don't want you to have a car crush or something. I'd rather know you are here and get some rest." Her proposal was genuine.

She didn't want to have him around, but she couldn't deal with guilt if something happened to him. Finn couldn't simply sleep well, and she knew it very well.

Reluctantly, he looked at the watch again, scratching the back of his head. Well, incredibly, she was right. And he didn't want to die in a car accident because of her.

It was just a night. One single night.
Nothing wrong could happen.

"Okay. Damn," He turned off the engine and opened the door, "okay."

"Okay." She repeated, pursing her lips together.

Gratitude and Finn Wolfhard couldn't stay in the same sentence, apparently.

"This shit is so weird. I swear to God, I spent too much time with you today and—" He started to ramble, maybe because of the tiredness and that sudden new environment.

"And what?" She snorted ironically, rolling her eyes up to him.

"I don't know. I just didn't expect it?"

She huffed, "And is it so bad?"

"We have been fightining for all day and honestly I'd rather be in my own house. So yeah, it is bad." He shrugged his shoulders, still looking down at her.

"Well, I am not amused to be with you too since today. But I'm still offering you a place to stay since it's late. So stop being an asshole, and learn to show some gratitude!" She snapped, slamming two of her shopping bags into his chest.

After taking the elevator, there they were to the last floor of the building — the penthouse, one of the many houses Millie owned. But that one was her favorite for sure: it was for the giant window walls that offered a panoramic vista of the city and, most of all, of the stars above.

"Nice place." He commented, while looking around and focusing on the modern white and silvered furniture and a wall filled with magazines with her face printed on it.

More or less, they would be about half an hundred. Fifty covers of Millie Bobby Brown.

"Wow— you sure do like your face." He snorted, looking at one he knew very well.

That was the Dazed one, a photo shoot they did together a lot of years before. Wow, looking back at it they were so young.

"Can you keep your comments to yourself?" She muted him, resting the shopping bags on the sofa and taking off her brownish sweatshirt.