Aurora
"Rory, you have a suspicious amount of alcohol in your fridge, ya know that don't you?" Lewis snorted as he pulled out a can of Fosters before joining you on the sofa.
"And yet here you are drinking my alcohol at..." I paused to look down at the time on my phone. "Twelve in the afternoon."
"Shut up, it's Christmas," he scowled jokingly, popping the can open and taking several large gulps.
Lewis and I had met up for the first time back in October after a month of texting each other. We clicked practically straight away and had hung out practically every week since then, even going to the studio together where we had been working on a song together. I absolutely adored him; he definitely brightened up my lacklustre life, outside of my career that is, especially considering I had a painful lack of friends in London. Lewis offered me a sense of home, probably because he reminded me so much of my friends but it could have easily been his laid-back persona.
"Christmas ain't for another three weeks," I teased.
"I thought Geordies were meant to be known for their alcoholism. You're letting the side down here," he scoffed.
"I spent most of my weekends in a pub since I was fifteen and then some," I laughed. "I can't handle it anymore."
"Disgusting," he chided. "Fifteen-year-old you sounds more fun."
"She was," I giggled. "My only worries was school and my dad finding oot me and my mates egged the fuckin' co-op."
"You egged the co-op?" he gaped, an amused smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
"I was thirteen," I shrugged.
"The more I learn about you, Rory Nightingale, the more confused I get," he admitted.
"There's still loads more for you to find oot," I grinned. "Anyway, when are yer off back home?"
"Not for another week and a bit," he told me. "What about you? Are you off home for Christmas?"
"Nah," I muttered. "Well. Technically. I'm staying with my aunt, my dad's gan come down, spend Christmas there."
"Christ, Rory," he mumbled. "This lad really must've done a number on ya if you can't go back home for Christmas."
"Aye, well..." I trailed.
"You never did tell me the whole story," he pointed out as he sipped on the drink in his hand. "I've just been guessing from the album."
"It's a long one. We were together for five and a half years," I snorted humorlessly.
"My life's sadder than yours, I ain't got nowhere to be," he spoke dryly.
"Cheers," I laughed. It was a genuine one. It was a skill Lewis had, his humour. He could make anyone laugh at any time. And I mean any time. "If ya wanna hear the whole story, you'd better gan get me a can."
"Now there we go!" he smirked, leaping off the sofa to collect two cans from the fridge. One for me and one for him. I rolled my eyes, accepting the can from him and snapping it open, gulping all of it down quickly.
"Geordie enough for yer?" I teased as I discarded the now empty can on the table in front of us.
"Colour me impressed," he said with a hint of pride in his voice. "Now... this ex of yours."
"God, I think I'm gan need sommat stronger," I groaned.
"We can get the vodka out in a bit, just get on with already," he told me.
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Drop Dead | Sam Fender
Fanfiction'Did you come around here just to start a fight? Drop dead.' Sam's difficulty with relationships stems all the way back to his adolescence. He hasn't had it easy growing up in the Northeast of England but he managed to escape his teens unscathed. Mo...
