Creep || Brendon Urie

5 • Agitated ; Inviting

All day. All day he had avoided that damned window. For the first day in three months, he hadn't once taken a peek outside.

He, instead, had laid in bed all evening, night, and morning doing nothing but letting his head babble on and on about meaningless things, although truly he found that some were, in fact, quite the opposite. But nonetheless, there was nothing he'd rather do than lay pitifully amongst the dense fabric of his excessively warm sheets and let his mind wander; and he was fully content having done just that for hours straight with no interruptions.

That was, until...

"Uncle Bren? Are you awake?"

His nephew's deep voice startled him a bit, as his head pounded listening to the sound of Harris' knuckles tap abruptly against the wood surface of the door; the painful noise echoing inside the large room. Brendon found absolutely no use whatsoever in answering, so instead, he rolled over, facing the wall, and placed his nose against the chilling surface, closing his eyes and pressing a pillow to his ears.

Through the thin fabric of the plush object he held lazily against his face, he could hear the doorknob rustling rapidly before Harris began pleading,

"Brendon, unlock the door. C'mon, there's something you have got to see."

He rolled his eyes, slamming his knee loudly against the wall in anger. He didn't know exactly why he'd done it. To let Harris know he was still alive? To warn him to go the fuck away?
Silence followed, and he hoped with all his might that Harris had finally made the intelligent decision, for his own sake, to leave him alone... but he couldn't be so lucky.

"I fucking swear Brendon, open this mother fucking door-"

He, alarmed, was on his feet in a matter of seconds, flipping the lock and swinging the door open in a state of agitation.

"Are you insane, Harris? What have I told you about swearing in this house?" He growled.

The smug expression on his nephew's face, and the fact that he was sleep deprived over the millions of profound thoughts that sped through the purgatory he called a mind, was enough to send him, madly, over the edge. But he knew he had to control himself, for everyone's sake.

But not mere seconds later, Harris threw in a cocky laugh and stepped an inch closer to him, looking him directly in the eyes.

"I knew that'd get you up, you lazy old bastard." Harris countered smugly.

As electric rage buzzed involuntarily through his veins, Brendon's hands were against the boy's shoulders within seconds, pushing him away firmly. He could still smell the revolting scent of alcohol sparking through the air in the form of Harris' breath, which did nothing but enrage him further, as Harris knew damned good-and-well his uncle's strict rules against the act of underage drinking. He didn't want his nephew to end up back in the same uncontrollable mess he'd been in before.

"I'm not up for whatever kind of shit you're trying to put me through today, Harris." he growled. "So you'd better tell me why the fuck you're disturbing me right now."

Harris, in his near-drunk state, shoved Brendon back with all the strength he could muster, and slackishly pointed at the front door,

"Take a look for yourself. I think you'll enjoy it as much as I've been."

He stared into the younger boy's bright green eyes, scowling for a moment longer, before he huffed and turned his attention towards the front door.

The dominant thoughts that were running through his mind at this moment in time were somewhere between 'This better be worth it', and 'I'm so close to kicking this boy's ass, it's crazy'. But deep down he knew that the last thing he'd ever do was truly harm Harris, he was like a son to him, in Brendon's eyes. But at the same time, a parasite he couldn't rid himself of.

Reaching the largely-windowed door, he began to scan the view in front of him, finding it to be particularly more normal than usual. He grew, if possible, even more frustrated to have been alerted to absolutely nothing out of the ordinary,

But that's when his lifeless brown eyes finally spotted it,

And the moment his brain could process the scene occurring in front of him, he raced back into his bedroom, slamming the door shut and relocking it.

Mere seconds later he, regrettably, was at his usual window, clutching his usual binoculars, pointing them in the usual direction they were always pointed in; and feeling the usual sickness that came with the act he was pursuing.

He knew he shouldn't look, and he knew how bad this would turn out if she saw him again, and he deemed himself fully aware of everything that was, and could go, wrong involving this situation. But nonetheless he found that his eyes did not twitch, nor even try to pull themselves away from the girl, changing inside her bedroom.

_________________

All day. All day she'd been planning this. But it wasn't as if what she was doing was anything out of the ordinary to her. But it definitely would be to him.

The list she had made of ways to torture this man was set in a perfect order so that each thing would drive him a little bit more and more over the edge; and today, she would test out Step 1.

Sabrina had watched her window carefully all morning to see if he would ever dare to peek out of it, but alas, in the hours she had waited, she hadn't seen a single curtain rustle, and she found herself disappointed.

A pen in her hand, tapping anxiously against her desk that faced the window. A bounce in her leg that never seemed to cease. A cold sweat forming on her back and in the palms of her hands, because she knew that what she was beginning, was all types of evil... but she couldn't help to continue for the sheer thrill of it.

Out of the corner of her bright blue eyes, she saw someone walk out of the front door of their house. A head of brown hair popped up, his body being blocked by the large red car in the driveway, but nonetheless she hopped up and began to do what she felt she needed to; apprehension ablaze.

Shaky fingers gripped the hem of her shirt, but froze. She wanted to make sure he was looking. As she watched him lean into the backseat to grab something, she couldn't figure out whether it was the man, or her actual crush.

Excitement carbonated her veins and bubbled under her skin, as she realized that no matter which male watched, it would appease her.

As he slammed the car door shut, she noticed that Harris' head began to involuntarily look around, and immediately, she pulled the shirt halfway up her torso.

The fabric was thin enough that she could see through it, and what she found was a head full of brown hair looking directly up at her. That, alone, was enough to fuel her to continue without stopping.

As slowly as possible without seeming suspicious, she rid herself of most of her clothes, until the chill of her house hit her skin, mirroring perfectly the rush of chills that this task was creating.

She never stopped to ask herself what exactly she was accomplishing, or how this whole ordeal would turn out in the long run. In fact, she never even stopped to actually think, at all. She was too busy ridding herself of clothing in front of a wide open window, and using her body to attract and lure in boys... because that was all that was natural to Sabrina.

A quick glance to the side resulted in a halt of her excitement, as she found that the boy outside of the house was now nowhere in sight.

Straining her thoughts for what exactly she had done wrong to make him not stay to watch, and coming up blank, she just happened to notice, much like yesterday, a small reflection of light coming from the top window of the house across the street.

She wondered for a short moment, how long it had been there. But nevertheless, she unclasped her last piece of clothing, and let it fall to the floor.