"So," I said with a slight smile on my lips. "Liking the homeless life?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my mouth like a rabid dog with slobber. Lottie bit her lip, a serious expression running over her features.
"It's not terrible," she replied, and normally that isn't a good reply. When you're trying to convince a girl to run back home, well, that's the sign that shows the girl can crack at any moment. Charlotte had a smile on her lips though, a lazy smile, but a smile, directed at not just me, but the world. Like she didn't care about anything, like she was free.
"I hate to pry," I started, looking over my shoulder at a bookstore to avoid her gaze, "but what exactly made you run away." I gulped and turned my head back to Lottie, taking in her now hardened features. If I could whip myself mentally u would've given myself a good lashing right then. No matter how much you grow curious of why a fellow runaways on the street. You never ask why. It's an unsaid treaty between "friends" on the streets, and even a newbie like Lottie caught on fast. "You know what, I'm sorry, in being-" I continued, rambling off words as a gulp followed down her neck.
"No, it's fine," she replied hastily, cutting into my words to shut me up. I nodded, just a simple lift of my chin, and u focused my eyesight on the battered sidewalk in front of me. "It was just family issues," she muttered, so low and breathy it was barely audible to the human ear.
"Did they do anything to you?" I asked cautiously, treading the waters. I stole a glance at the girl as she looked up the head of the person walking in front of her. She didn't appear to be abused, but it was a shame what things no longer surprise me.
"They love me, but I just needed to get away from them," she replied, answering all my questions in once. She spoke about then in present tense, which means she doesn't see them as a memory just yet. She said that they loved her, and love is something I hate to let go to waste. Also, she said she just needed to get away. That statement had no commitment to the life on the streets.
"Oh my god Melissa, you don't think that's Lottie do you?" I heard a voice quietly mutter from behind us. My sound instantly stiffened, and I was more than certain Charlotte's had as well.
"Check the picture Louis had sent out of her last seen," another voice replied, moving closely behind us, or I should I say Lottie, as we walked down the street.
When I snuck a peek at Lottie, my blood was stuck between two opposite states, boiling and turning cold. Her eyes were half lidded, and her lips were muttering something almost like a prayer. She was worried, and despite my better judgment I was worried for her.
"Oh my god, I think it is!" The friend's voice squealed. I heard the footsteps drawing closer, and the look Lottie had was painful to watch for more than five seconds. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a dim lit pub, and I tugged on her arm, swerving her away from the two friends’.
When Lottie had stabled herself, and her breathing had slowed into a regular pattern, she lifted her eyes to mine. Even through the dark lighting, under the awning in which we were residing, I could see her blue eyes wide with concern.
"Lottie," I started, my voice edged with something that was not curiosity. "Were those girls your friends?" I asked, and she gulped. So much for the cracking theory from earlier.
"I don't know those girls," she muttered in reply, and her voice gave me the feeling of honesty. Honesty and the feeling that everything has slipped out of your fingers.
YOU ARE READING
Run Forest Run (A Zayn Malik Fan Fiction)
FanfictionRun, Forest, Run, because your time's almost up.
