Blind side (Tronnor AU)

4. Intriguing

Troye overslept his morning classes again. Lying across the bed in his yesterday's clothes, he pondered whether the rest of his classes were worth the impeding headache. The 'screw it' attitude winning over, he turned to lie on his stomach, when his phone chimed, indicating a text from an unknown number.

Hey Troy, it's Connor, I just wanted to say sorry for yesterday

I didn't mean to tell you that and I was drunk

I know it's not a valid excuse. anyways I'm sorry again

Troye threw his phone away irritatedly, and decided to ignore it for the sake of some more sleep. Thirty seconds later, though, he was typing menacingly.

That's not my name idiot

His phone chimed again.

Sorry then, wrong number

Troye huffed in frustration. This dork.

No, it's Troye you fucking dickhead

He tapped his fingers against the phone cover impatiently, as Connor was typing out his reply.

I'll let it slide since I probably deserve it this time but I don't appreciate the language troyE

The boy laughed at that a little. He decided to be nice for a change, since Connor for once was actually behaving. Troye also remembered the hurt look on his face, and as much as he put on pretenses, in reality he had to admit at least to himself, that he didn't like hurting people. Especially if they were generally so happy, like Connor was.

I'm sorry too.

There. Nothing too sappy. Just admitting that he was also in the wrong, as a proper gentleman would. Another text from Connor came.

😊

Fucking idiot.

Troye buried his head into the covers, and tried to fall asleep. Buzz from his phone - again - prevented it. This time it was Tyler.

Wanna come over to watch movies? still a bit hungover(

Troye sighed grumpily, before looking over at the clock on his bedside table. It didn't look like the universe would let him sleep anyways.

He texted Tyler his consent, and rose from his bed.

Tyler's place was eerily quiet, without his usual track list of Lady Gaga and Beyoncé pumping thorough the rooms. Upon entering, Troye was greeted with a sight of the host himself, sprawled in a star shape on the couch in his living room, his glasses forgotten at the coffee table next to a pack of Advil.

He just hummed something incoherent, when Troye walked in, and patted the cushion next to his head in invitation.

"How are you feeling, Tilly?"

The blonde grunted in response, "Like I've been fucked in the head by a sledgehammer. Did you sort everything out with Con?"

Troye's eyes widened, "How do you know?"

Tyler grunted irritatedly, "That little shit texted me at, like, 7 a.m. asking for your number. I mean, I'm used to guys begging for your contact info but not this fucking early in the morning."

Troye couldn't help but laugh at Tyler's antics.

"What the hell happened to you two yesterday?" the latter continued rambling on. "I swear, everyone within 10 miles heard you shouting."