The house was an eerie quiet. Scott was home alone, and he was expecting Mitch to come back any second. After being home alone all day, he was anxiously awaiting someone to give him attention. At this point he didn't care if it was cuddles or a slap in the face; he was so lonely he craved human touch.
He busied himself with cleaning the living room so it would be nice and tidy when Mitch returned. He picked up all the clothes scrawled around the room and swept up the kitty litter from Wyatt walking on the carpet. Once he was satisfied with how the place looked, he just kicked back on the sofa and relaxed. He picked up his phone and began to mindlessly scroll through his twitter feed.
Eventually that was too boring, so he fetched a pad of paper and a pen from the kitchen and began to write. Only minutes later he heard the lock of the front door turning.
"Hey babe." Mitch said, plopping down next to him on the couch. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm writing a letter to Alex." He paused to look at Mitch, who was listening intently before looking back at his letter. "It's weird, I haven't seen him in -"
He was interrupted by the sound of a bullet leaving the barrel of a gun. Suddenly he felt a piercing pain in his chest, and he pressed his fingers to the area of pain to find that blood was sprouting from his torso. The only person in the room besides himself was... Mitch.
He looked over in shock to Mitch to see his face half hidden behind a gun, but the parts of his face that he could see were stone cold. He stared at his best friend, blinded by pain and anger, but he could've sworn he heard music as he fell from the couch.
Mmm watcha say...
A/N Why do you even read my stuff anymore? Why do you give me this power.
