Perfect Strangers (A Dan Howell x Reader Novel)

Chapter 8

You eventually arrive back at (y/b/f)'s house. Luckily you still had the address from when you forwarded her mail here after she moved, so you didn't get lost.

"Thankyou," you say politely, handing the driver the 20 pound note, "Keep the change."

You jumped out of the taxi and walked up to the front door nervously. You have no idea how she'll react or even if she'll let you keep staying here. The thought of staying on the street in London by yourself sent shivers down your spine (A/N: spooky scary skeletons, yeah), and there's nowhere else you can think of to go.

You rap on the door quietly, and after several minutes of waiting a very tired and aggressive person opens the door.

"Hey... Can I come in?"

"If you're here to apologise, don't bother. You can get your stuff and then get the f*** out," she snarls, opening the door and gesturing impatiently for you to come in.

You feel your whole stomach flip. This wasn't how this conversation was meant to go. You quickly walk in the door and she slams it shut behind you.

"No, please, you can't kick me out! I'm begging you, please don't let me sleep on the street! I can't afford a hotel, you're my only option! Please!"

You may as well be on your knees begging her, you're completely desperate and have no idea what you're going to do.

"Didn't you understand me? I said get your stuff and get out," she says through gritted teeth, and you know that there's no way of changing her mind on this one.

You thought the drama of the night was done, but apparently that wasn't the case. Despite the fact that all your tears should have run out by now you could feel new ones forming in your eyes, making your vision blurry.

You slowly pick up your bag and suitcase, you hadn't even had the chance to make a bed for yourself. Once you've removed your stuff it's like all evidence of you staying here has been erased.

I doubt I'll ever see this house again.

You walk slowly back towards the door and she opens it, glaring at you as you walk past her. As soon as you're out of the way she slams the door behind you, again. The tears that were forming in your eyes are now streaming down your face.

What am I meant to do now? Where am I meant to stay? What is there's some crazy guy on the street and he attacks me?

You walk back down the drive with no energy, stumbling along the way in your white heels. You slip them off and carry them, it's not like you'll need to look good as a homeless person.

You walk down the little street, and after a while decide that your phone may be handy to you in this time of need.

It's still dead, but you pull out your laptop and charger, sit on the side of the road, plug it in and let it charge.

You sit for about 5 minutes, deciding that using your laptop may decrease the battery, and you need it for as long as you can get.

Your phone finally turns on, the screen flashing with some text notifications. You click on the first one.

2 new text messages:

luggage god:

hey it's dan! just thought i'd say thanks again for everything tonight, and i hope to see you again. :)

You heart swells as you read the text from Dan, and you giggle a bit at his contact, before you open the next message.

1 new text message: