W O N D E R W A L L [ m.h ]

09

No rants, huh? 

Surprised? 

Thank you for the support and you know what you have to do ;) 

P.S. that giggle....

**

Sheila stared down at her miss-matched fuzzy socks, her lips pressed in a thin line and she didn't know why, but she was at the verge of tears. Shannon was laughing and to make it worse, she was laughing at her – not directly but more at the question Sheila asked just few seconds ago. Sheila stood next to the doorframe, dressed in her pyjamas and leaned on the wall for support and holding a cup of cranberry tea.

Shannon threw her head back, still laughing; the crackle sound escaping her throat.

Elvis walked in, his pyjama pants low on his hips while he scratched his stomach. He mumbled something that sounded a mix of words 'morning' and 'afternoon', turning the kettle on. By the way he looked, Sheila was sure that he got back home too early.

Elvis rubbed his eye and turned to Shannon, "What's funny?" Shannon clasped her hands on her stomach, trying to catch her breath.

"I am glad I amuse you," Sheila mumbled, tightening the grip at the cat-shaped cup.

Shannon exhaled out a shaky breath, finally calming down properly. "Sorry, Sheila. Here—" she pointed with her hands at her face, "—I am dead serious now." Still, a small snort left her nose.

Elvis was still looking between Sheila and Shannon, bringing the cup to his lips. "I still don't get it and I hate being left out."

"She thinks I slept with the guy she works for," Shannon stated, giggling at the end.

"Isn't he a bit old for you?" Elvis asked raising his eyebrow.

"No, not her boss. The other guy," Shannon clarified and Elvis shrugged. He didn't know much about Sheila and bands she worked with. "Anyway," Shannon looked at Sheila, getting up and walking towards the doors. "To answer your question, I didn't sleep with Matty," Shannon said walking out in the messy hallway.

Sheila followed and they both walked in the living room, Shannon picking up the fuzzy blanket from the couch and wrapping herself in it.

"But you guys left together." Sheila felt the weird sensation flow through her.

"Yeah," Shannon rolled with her eyes, sitting down on the couch and turning on the TV. "I needed a fag and I didn't want to smoke alone."

"Oh," was everything that Sheila uttered.

"And when we got back, you weren't there. The tall, skinny guy," Shannon cocked her head to the side, trying to remember the name, "not the drunk one—"

"—Adam?" Sheila asked.

"Yes, that one!" Shannon nodded once, "He told us you got sick and went home. I was too drunk to care, honestly," Shannon shrugged, switching the channels. "I didn't stay there long after you left. I went to that club in Soho and ended up having sex with the DJ." Sheila kept her eyes glued to the floor, feeling stupid for avoiding Shannon and being cold to Matty for what seemed no apparent reason. "—Are you even listening Sheila?"

Sheila looked up, embarrassed. "Sorry, what did you ask?"

Shannon grinned and waved her hand around. "I asked why do you care if I slept with sex-on-the-legs? I remember you said you are not interested in him?"

"No reason," Shannon replied quickly – too quickly. "And I am not."

"You sure?" Shannon asked in a singsong voice. "I get the feeling that you have the same diagnose like Colleen with Elvis—"