Middle Of The Week (W.A./O.C.) (G!P)

LXX: Happy New Year

*HAPPY NEW YEAR 2k24 70 in Roman numerals

———
I woke up shortly after Alto left. I was too tired to actually go after them and I trusted they wouldn't do anything stupid and get themself killed.

I stayed in bed to get another hour or two of sleep, but woke back up when Alto tried sneaking back into my room.

"Good to see you didn't die," I comment once the room was pitch black once again. They yelp in surprise then suck their teeth. "For the love of fuck, Mamba," they say in annoyance with their hand over their chest.

"Where'd you go?" I ask, clapping to turn on my main lights. They were still fully dressed, only just now removing their shoes.

Their eyes were a little red and puffy, leading me to believe they're either high or had been crying.

Most likely high, knowing them.

"The abandoned house. I had a dream about one of your paintings and wanted to see it for myself," they say, now taking off their hoodie. I noticed their family's relic around their neck and Crackstone's dagger on their hip.

"Then explain," I motioned to the interesting choice of accessories. They look down then took the blade from its holster. They flip it around in their fingers deftly, "I still don't know Jersey like that. Someone coulda been in the house."

They put the dagger back then took off the holster.

"What painting did you dream about?" I ask, squinting at them. Their eyes peer into mine challengingly. "The Two Wednesdays. Inspired by the late great Frida Kahlo," they send me that stupid smirk of theirs before taking a seat on the bed.

"I also discovered something," their tone now serious. I look at them weirdly as they continued.

"My dream told me the painting was upstairs in the abandoned house, so I went up there first. But I didn't find the painting, I found a room...," they go silent for a second then looks at me thoughtfully.

"Did you know that was my old house?"

After they said that, I freeze. The truth is that I did know. I've always known. Ms. Selina made me pinkie swear not to tell my mother that her best friend was moving down the street.

She wanted the house to be fully furnished beforehand, but it never got done.

I kept my pinky promise and made it my own art studio instead. I've only been upstairs twice in the last decade and never set foot in Alto's room.

I thought I had locked it, but they probably broke into it being it was the only room whose door stayed shut.

I sigh, running a hand through my black hair before nodding at them. "Why didn't you tell me, Wednesday?" They ask in an unreadable tone, but based on what they called me, I know they're a bit hurt and confused.

"I made a promise to your mother to keep quiet about it," I say honestly and their eyes get slightly bigger. "Why?" I explained it to them and they hum with a slight nod, saying nothing else.

They go into their pocket and pull out their weed pen and phone.

I study them as they tapped on their device while occasionally taking a hit.

I wondered what was going on in their mind, making me wish I was the telepath. Their facial expression was stoic while they mindlessly take a drag from their pen.

I admit, they look more attractive with their scar over their eye and various cuts from our fencing matches on their copper colored skin. I watched as they released smoke from their mouth slowly before resting back on the headboard.