MESS IT UP ACT SEVEN! - ' if not for you, for me ' date - 30 / 08 / 2022
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
NOT WANTING TO INCREASE august's already significant frustration with her, daisy was at her doorstep exactly eight minutes and twenty-three seconds after their phone call ended.
much to her own dismay, she had left gracie at her apartment. august could remain tempered with daisy alone, she was sure of that. however, she had said many times if she ever saw gracie again she would, simply put and sparing the excruciatingly specific details, kill her, leading daisy to the conclusion that going alone would be the best bet.
august was overprotective by nature. she was being overbearing for daisy's good, knowing daisy could never do it herself. as much as she hated to admit it, a minuscule part of her deep down believed daisy was weak. she was weak for going back to gracie. she was weak for not standing up for herself. she was weak when it came to people she loved. august loved daisy to the moon and back, be sure of that. august was what some would call a "mom friend", and though she wasn't more than a year older than daisy, she felt inclined to protect her, shelter her from anything that could possibly hurt her.
and currently, that anything came in the form of gracie abrams. again.
august thought gracie was the spawn of satan reincarnated. it was a harsh take, but given her history, you couldn't exactly say she was wrong. from what she had been told, gracie was a manipulative, arrogant asshole who had shattered the heart of her sweet best friend.
daisy seemed a magnet for toxic people, and though countless messy breakups and relationships in the past caused her to build up walls, somehow people from her past always found a way to slip through the cracks. august was determined to not let that happen again, and she would go greater lengths than either of them knew at the time to do it.
daisy lifted her fist up, preparing to knock on the door. her eyes scanned the numbers above the peephole. 223. she dropped her fist. she wrung her hands out, nervously cracking her knuckles as she cleared her throat, reaching her fist up again. this time she made the effort and connected her fist with the door, softly. it didn't matter how hard she knocked, though, because the door swung open. august was waiting for her, inches from the front door.
daisy felt like a child, head hung in shame and cowered guiltily, though in retrospect she didn't do anything specifically wrong.
august opened the door wider, letting her in. the tension was thick, the air inside the small apartment feeling warm and stale. daisy fidgets with the collar of her shirt, pulling it from her neck before shuffling it slightly to the left, her eyes trained to her feet.
