His Saint || Murphy Macmanus

ɪɪ. ʙᴇ ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛ

The problem wasn't Ariana. Never Ariana However, what did make him uncomfortable was Irene and her flirtatious attitude. All it took was a single one nightstand and the rather tough woman wouldn't let him go. She was obsessed.

He could just push her away and never speak to her ever again, but Ariana was his friend and Murphy's girl. How awkward it would be to express Irene was a total obsessive bitch to Ariana.

"Why did you allow that crazy bitch into my house?!" Rocco finally spat, pointing his finger up to the fifth floor.

Slipping his arm away from Murphy, Connor pushed his brother away, cocking one brow with confusion.

"Ariana?" Connor questioned lowly.

"Better not be, " Murphy spat, fixing his shirt.

Rocco frantically ran his hands through his curly hair. "No. Shut the hell up, you two" Rocco shouts.

"Hey, man. Don't you fuckin' tell me to shut up!" Connor was ready to put Rocco into the exact position Murphy was just in. A neat and clean chokehold.

The two start to bicker, Murphy hollers from the sideline for no particular reason. The young man is the type to hype up any situation and that included putting himself into dangerous positions. This wasn't much of a hazard, but just the simple fact made Murphy excited.

Suddenly, the window on the fifth floor opens roughly and a very upset Ariana jostled her head out to see Rocco and Connor having a slapping match with each other.

"Hey! Stop that shit right now! Come help me and Irene or so help me God; I will come down there and put his foot up your ass - " Ariana shouts, gripping the stone perch attached to the outside of the large window.

"Who's foot?" Murphy shouts back, a confused expression on his face.

"Is my foot goin' up his arse?" Connor points at Murphy.

"No. No, it can't be my arse. Not wide 'enough." Murphy shook his head.

"Maybe it is your foot, " Rocco points at Connor, "in my ass."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND FUCKING HELP!"

The three men raise their heads to stare up at the rather angry Ariana. Rocco is the first to release Connor, moving back into the building as he is told to do so. After Ariana slams the window shut, Connor replaces his attention onto his brother. Murphy rubbed his hands together with his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"Ye better tell the poor girl or I will. Ye understand?" Connor says, grabbing Murphy by the scruff of his neck. "What is her problem anyway? She's a little emotional nutcase today."

***

Rocco's small one-bedroom apartment filled with friends two hours after Ariana forced the three men to help set up decorations. Beer bottles are already scattered on each surface within the home. Many folks laugh drunkenly at terrible jokes and erotic stories. Irene made sure to keep any woman away from Rocco. Her hands play with his greasy hair as he sat beside her miserable. Connor flirts with multiple girls at once, charming them with his knowledge of various languages.

Ariana sat alone by the kitchen table, holding a bottle filled with alcohol. Her eyes scan the room, unsure how to fully process the number of people Rocco knew. She thought this would be a small gathering, not a fucking full-blown party.

Plopping himself beside Ariana, Murphy throws his arm around Ariana's neck, pulling her into a kiss.

"Why aren't ye drinking?" Murphy whispered into her ear once his lips left her cheek. Moments before, he noticed Ariana alone and quiet from across the living room. Silence isn't like her. Not his Ariana. Isolating herself from others, not even touching a drop of her drink, that's unheard of.