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"FOR FUCK SAKE." YOU CURSE UNDER YOUR BREATH, your mum having locked you out yet again however this time it's raining.
Not a small dribble either. Nope. Full on, merciless and drenching rain, the type to soak you in the matter of five minutes. And you had been out here for longer than that. Your hair is smeared against your forehead, cheeks pink and the droplets from your wet clothes are dripping onto the cobbled street you stand on, waiting for your waste of space, alcoholic mother to open the door.
Huffing in defeat you slouch yourself on to the steps of your front door, blankly staring at the concrete of Watery Lane which in this moment, the name is quite fitting. You hear some rustling from the inside, an indication that your mum is in fact conscious this time.
"Ma please." You softly croak, kneeling on the step, trying to look through the letter box, the darkness of your hallway veiling her from you. Getting angrier by the minute you decide to start hammering on the door, any patience or kindness you had now being drained from you.
"Open it!" You scream, the eyes of people on street making you shrink, making you feel completely worthless.
"What the fuck are you doing?" An unknown voice asks behind you, slight amusement in their tone along with confusion.
"Ridin' an elephant." You mutter, refusing to turn and see the person out of shame.
"If you can find an elephant in Small Heath your a miracle worker." He replies, matching your rather rude tone.
"Yeah, well I'm the same thing if I can manage to get my Ma to open the bloody door." You say softer, tears and rain drops silently dripping down your cold cheeks. Finally turning round to meet the boy, all colour that you had seeps from your face as you're met with a Shelby. You know Finn, you went to school with him until he started to drop out, something about it being boring he had told you even though you know it's because he struggled.
"I see." He shrugs, smirking slightly before sauntering down the street.
"Prick." You whisper to yourself.
"What was that?" He snaps, turning around, his black coat swaying as he does so. As his shoes splash into small puddles, he comes back over to you, his tall and lean figuring towering above you as you stay kneeling on your doorstep.
"I said you're a prick." Your voice regrettably shakes but considering you had already made the comment you decided to stick with it.
"Have you got some sort of death wish?" He threatens, his voice booming along with the thrashing of the rain on the road.
"May aswell have." You admit, your eyes not leaving his as you stare at one another.
For some reason he softens, sitting next to you on the step and retrieving a flask out of his pocket. Taking a swig, he then offers it to you, reluctantly you accept, not normally being one to share drinks but in this moment you don't give a shit about catching anything.
