Non Verbal

53

Hiya! happy reading and all that-

Rowan's POV. 

They were soaked through, Fran and Sutton. When I drove up to them, Sutton was sat on the wet concrete rested against a brick wall, Fran was sat crossed legged in front of him in the rain.

She was drenched, her hair flat against her back, her makeup smudged probably as a combination of the open skies and the emotional stress that was easily readable on her face.

Sutton was fine, when I got out of the car he smiled a obviously 'out of it' grin towards me and I didn't say anything, he's usually very uncooperative when he's on one like this, if he was smiling at me, I wasn't going to do anything to change that.

I bent down and pulled him up, cringing at the sense of his wet clothes touching my skin. I had never put my jacket on. So I also cringed at the way the wind was rough against us all, at the sharp strong rain.

Pathetic fallacy.

Isn't that the literature technique used to convey the emotional atmosphere of a scene through the weather?

I am on edge.

But I pulled Sutton towards the car anyway. I look at Fran, who was unsteadily getting to her feet after us and I wince at the way she still struggled to calm down even though I had them both.

Even though she was safe.

I put Sutton in the back, letting him fall freely to lie down in the back seat.

I go to close the door and I freeze, knowing I needed to freaking buckle him up, I heaved a sigh and tossed the door back open and bent my head in, pulling a seat belt to wrap around him somehow.

I hear my sister get in the front seat, still quietly hiccupping through her tears and once I have him secure, I stand back up and I slam the car door closed.

Mostly accidently.

But fucking hell.

They're both a mess.

They're more responsible than this. Sutton knows better than this.

This always happens when something goes in their way, they always crash back down and it's slightly ridiculous now.

I usually have no opinion.

But my head I guess is clearer now, I can actually understand what's going on and all I know right now is that they went out to celebrate and they've ended unable to get themselves home.

He couldn't get himself home more like.

Fran could have.

I walked around the car and her shoulders are tense when I sit down and run a hand through my own now wet hair.

"It's fucking awful out there; you should have waited inside somewhere." I say.

"Yeah, because I could control where Sutton went." She muttered bitterly.

She sniffed again and wiped her face in frustration.

She was mad.

Annoyed.

"I was done with this Roe." She whispers. She laughs. "He promised me that he- that he was better now- that I wouldn't have to deal with this."

I look at her.

God.

"He's my friend Fran." I say quietly and she deflates, another angry hand rubbing her face as she closes off to me.