(Just noticed a bunch of mistakes, this is me republishing- hopefully a new chapter will be out soon)
Reminder that there are two more updates before this one <3
[...]
Lucas' PoV
3 days later
[...]
Smuck smack
Someone knocks on the door, an irritating disturbance to the night of binge-watching tv I had planned.
Staring at the closed entrance I debate, for just a second, whether to pretend like I'm not home. To prevent the anxiety of speaking to another living being and remain in the comforts of my blanketed nest for just a few more moments.
I sigh, looking back at the video I was watching, pulling the silky elegance of my duvet further over my frozen shoulders.
My stomach growls loudly in my body, begging for some food that I would be unable to provide.
Working at the local bar pays minimum wage and means that money and time is far and few between. I'm rendered to one meal a day, along with an apple at breakfast, to get me through my life.
Smuck smack
Smuck smack
Smuck smack
Another round of knocks rumble from the visitor again and I realise- with hopelessness rising in the pit of my stomach- that they're not buying my act of invisibility (possibly it was something to do with the noise of my TV or the light shining underneath the thin door).
Perhaps I should have thought this through a little more.
Great, now not only was I going to look like an awkward, stumbling mess but a rude, awkward, stumbling mess.
So I stand up, with legs trembling underneath me from hours of YouTube binging. Waddling towards the door, an attractive sight I'm sure, I tug stray popcorn pieces off of the oversized t-shirt I'm wearing.
My hands shake at a scarily fast pace as I do so- another reminder to get this visitor to leave as soon as possible.
I try to make myself look presentable, yet not really caring if I don't. Opening the door, ignoring the scars acquired from previous outbursts, I go to speak and-
Oh god how I wish I had put a little more effort into the way I looked.
There he is, Aaron, the kind-hearted Yorkshire man that lives in the flat directly opposite. Standing there, or rather leaning, like a rugged Viking ready to conquer England.
Yet, something seems off; something seems wrong.
Much like Harold Hardrada in the Battle of Stamford Bridge, a stronger enemy was winning.
In this case, alcohol.
I've never really indulged in the process of drinking, perhaps from fear that I'll lose all control of I do. My father enjoyed a drink from time to time and seemed to become more aggravated when he did.
However, I like to think that I'm abstaining for the good of my health, the well-being of my mentality. If I'm not showing my true personality at all times- including all of the problematic parts- then I'm just lying to myself and what good will that do?
So, yes, that's the reason I tell myself; I'm not going to give my father the pleasure of controlling my actions more than he currently does.
The scent of beer drafts off of Aaron in heavy waves, echoing the minute stumbling of his feet as he turns to face me- blurting out a sluggish "hey Lukey"
Ah yes, there it is, the childish nickname that he insists on calling me. I have to admit, despite the obvious distaste I have for the name, it's starting to grow on me. Grow on me like a persevering mould, but grow on me all the same.
I suppose if another person called me "Lukey" it would anger me but I can't deny the obvious bias I have towards my handsome neighbour.
But, unfortunately that would not help him today- not in his current state.
Not in the mood to deal with a drunken giant, I roll my eyes and beckon for him to continue talking- the familiar comforts of my sofa calling for me to end this soon.
Not getting the memo, Aaron remains in a clouded silence. His heavier breathing echoing around the narrow hallway and mixing with my silent exhales.
He slumps against the wall once again, his drowsy eyes closing slightly before he forces them open once again- maintaining heavy eye contact with me throughout it all.
"Are you alright?" I ask cautiously, after several moments of further silence.
"I-um-you-wh-hi" he garbles, a barely distinguishable babble.
I just stare at him for a second, noticing the beaming smile on his broad face, as if he was proud of the sentence he had just accomplished. Irritation spikes in my mind- annoyance at his drunken slurs- and I try to push it down.
"Pardon?" I ask, and he tries again-
"Doyou- wan' ter comen round fur tea?"
I blink- once, twice, maybe even three times- before I manage to untangle the jumble of drunken words.
"Tea...round at your flat? Now?" I say, to try and confirm.
He nods, his previously bright smile being replaced by an apprehensive one.
He looks like a wounded puppy...
But seriously, it's nearly midnight!
But...he looks so-
And, despite the warning bells blaring inside of my brain, I nod back- listening to the begging of my stomach instead.
Perhaps it isn't the best time to be doing this, after going cold turkey a few days prior, but this may be my only chance to get to know this giant and- well-
At this point, I can't exactly say no to a free meal.
[...]
Author's Note
Hi guys! I hope that this batch of chapters makes up for me being away for a while (sorry about that :))
So, how have all of you been? I'm so happy when I see the votes and the comments on my books- it really propels me towards wanting to write more chapters sooner!
Results day is just around the corner for me and I'm, understandably, kinda nervous about it. I'm sure it will be fine though- what about you guys? Any important dates coming up?
I'm sorry that this Note is rather short but I'm currently writing it whilst having tea and my family don't know about my books as of yet 🥰
I hope that you are healthy and happy,
Have a great day/night,
El x