LOVESTRUCK ━ lip gallagher¹

04 | i talk just fine

★

"SO, ARE YOU GOING to tell me what your genius plan is?" Amara asked, watching as Lip threw on a yellow shirt—that looked remotely childish for a seventeen year old. She quirked a brow as he fell onto the bed next to her, his body brushing against hers, sending sparks flying up her side.

"Mmm," he groaned as he pressed his lips against hers, before pulling away. "Probably not."

She lightly smacked his arm. "Why?"

"Because you won't like it."

"Well there's your first sign not to do it right there," she pointed out, pushing herself into a sitting position. "What's that saying?"

"Happy wife, happy life?"

She rolled her eyes as he stood up. "No, never mind. Forget it."

He paused. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Lip very suddenly grabbed her hand, and yanked her out of the room, pulling her down the hall—where the distant sound of a razor could be heard. He opened the bathroom door, sharing a confused look with Amara once they both took notice of what Frank was doing.

"Why are you shaving his head?"

"Lice," Frank said simply.

"Since when do you...parent?"

"Since you dropped the ball. Vermin were literally jumping off his scalp."

Lip cocked an unconvinced brow, warily watching the scene in front of him, before slowly nodding. "Well, make sure you wash his sheets too, okay?"

"I look like a woman?" Frank retorted, and Amara narrowed her eyes to slits.

"No, you look like a sexist asshole." Frank waved them off, and Lip tugged her out of the bathroom with a pointed look. "What? Am I wrong?"

"You'll give me shit no matter what I say."

She grinned, pecking his cheek as the two of them stopped outside of her house. "Yeah, that's true."

★

"Hey," Amara greeted, walking through the back door of the Gallagher residence hours later, Silvia trailing behind her as the older sister carried two cans in her hands. "I brought the peas like you asked."

"Thank you," Fiona replied with a grin, taking the items from her grasp. Amara watched as Veronica poured herself a shot, making her brows furrow together in confusion at her expression. "Life savor."

"Where's Debbie?" Silvia wondered, and Fiona pointed towards the street—where the redhead could be seen playing catch with a heavy-set boy. "Cool, later."

Amara waited until she was gone to turn to Veronica. "What's going on?"

"You haven't heard?" She replied, hardly glancing up. "Kev's wife and child are back in town."

"Um, wow?" Amara's jaw fell open in shock as Fiona continued to season the chicken in a pallet on the counter.

"Whose ass am I kicking first?" Fiona asked.

"There's no ass to kick," Veronica shrugged half-heartedly. "Kev's a little boy with a white-picket-fence fantasy, and in walks his wife with his son."

"We don't know that," Fiona told her as Amara pulled off the lid to the can of peas. "First thing we do is get a paternity test."

"It's not about blood to Kev. There's a woman he grew up with, and married, saying her son is his."