"Well, if you don't like it you can always go and find somewhere else to live."
Your cutting tone didn't go unnoticed. Van's eyes narrowed a little, the smirk falling quickly away but not for long. He folded his arms across his chest, fixing you wit...
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"D'ya want to come in... for a drink?"
You don't have to ask. You don't actually have to invite either of them inside. Your night out's over, you've been delivered back safely to your doorstep, you can just say your goodbyes and duck inside and go straight to bed and indulge in your nightly fantasies alone... but you don't.
You're still reeling from the strength of the ridiculous feelings that's Van's evoked in you. Jealousy that you've got no business feeling. So you're not really thinking with your head when you turn to Tom and extend the invitation to him and only him. You're thinking entirely with that seething mass of red-hot jealousy in the pit of your gut as you look straight at Tom, feel Van's fingers that were curled around the crook of your arm fall away as he steps back.
"Yeah... yeah sure... I'd love to. I'm on an early shift tomorrow but it won't hurt to have a quick one, will it? I was all set to go to the pub anyway!"
It's dark outside but you still catch the sparkle in Tom's eyes as he steps up on to the pavement beside you.
"C'mon then..." you urge, purposefully not looking at Van, dropping your head down as you try to locate your key in your bag.
You're aware that you're being blatantly rude blanking Van but you can't bring yourself to look up at him. You're too busy trying to ignore the little voice in your head that's telling you that you're only inviting Tom inside in front of Van to elicit a reaction from him, trying instead to reason with yourself that your main aim of going out tonight was to focus on spending quality time with Tom. That's why you're prolonging your evening with him. It's got nothing to do with a childish attempt at payback for being forced to hear all about Van's adoring female fans and his plentiful muses. Nothing at all.
"It was really good to meet you Van, make sure to let Y/N know next time there's a gig, I'd love to come along. You've definitely got yourself a new fan!"
Tom calls out and you finally look up, surprised to see that Van's moved away, in fact he's already reached his front door. Disappointment washes over you at the realisation that maybe he's not as hung up on you as you thought. But what were you really expecting? Van might be a dick but he wouldn't play some dirty trick to mess up the rest of your night with Tom... would he?
"That's good to hear mate, class," Van mumbles, slipping a cigarette between his lips and sparking up his lighter, his eyes darting to you and then quickly away as Tom slips an arm casually over your shoulder.
This is what you wanted, you tell yourself, pushing away the discomfort you feel at Van's sulky pout as he blows out a plume of smoke into the night. He's taken his usual spot leaning up against the brickwork by his front door, the one he normally inhabits as he watches you emerge from and enter your house each day, keen eyes trailing over every inch of you. He's not watching you now though. His gaze is fixed on the floor, the toe of his boot scuffling at the ground as he kicks aimlessly at the gravel.
