Make Believe

Two.

A/N: does the story seem better now? I hope you're all okay, and if you feel bad about yourself or you're going through a tough time just know you're not alone. You guys are keeping me happy with your votes and comments and stuff so thank you for taking me through a tough time.

I opened the door to the spare room, poking my head round the corner as quietly as I could.

My eyes wandered around the cluttered room, at first resting on Ross, who was dead asleep. He lay there on the bed, snoring quietly.

My eyes then settled on Finn. He was asleep too, on the floor under a blanket. I watched him for a moment, fighting back a smile as his mouth twitched slightly.

I walked away, smirking to myself. They were sweet. As much as I had liked living by myself, something told me that it'd be good to break the solitude for a while.

Sitting at my desk, I took out the picture I had drawn yesterday. I ran my fingers along the delicate lines of the pencilled drawing and smiled a little.

"Who's that?" A croaky voice appeared behind me.

I turned round. "What?"

Finn yawned, his hair messy and fluffy. His pale face looked half-asleep. "The picture." He gestured to the desk, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Oh... I don't know." I shrugged.

"It looks familiar." He winked. "I like the lip ring."

A hot blush appeared on my cheeks and I sighed, putting the drawing in the box I had under my desk.

"What's in there?" He asked.

"Pictures." To discourage him from wanting to see them, I said: "They're shit."

Finn grinned. "I doubt that."

There was a moment of silence, and I stood up. "I'm getting dressed." I told him.

"Okay." He smirked, leaning against the door frame.

"Get out." I shoved him out and shut the door, earning a chuckle.

I changed into a pair of black jeans, a Walking Dead shirt and slipped my purple-blue hair into a half-up half-down bun.

Me being me, I slipped some mascara over my lashes and left it at that. It was only Finn, it didn't matter what I looked like in front of him.

Taking one last check in the mirror, I made my way into the lounge. Finn was laying on the couch with the TV on. "Make yourself at home." I said sarcastically.

He looked up and laughed, running his hand through his hair. "Sorry, Scribble."

I sat down next to him, watching as he yawned. Finn leant his head on my shoulder. My cheeks flushed, and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm going to ask you a serious question." He said.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have depression?"

My heart dropped slightly, and I felt the cuts under my sleeve sting a little. A lump appeared in my throat.

"I'm sorry." He bit his lip piercing and frowned. Finn removed his head from my shoulder. "Personal question."

"No... It's fine." I smiled weakly. "I don't have depression. I'm just serious. I'm a pessimist."

Something in his eyes looked like he didn't believe me, but he nodded. "Alright."

"Alright." I nodded back. There was a moment of silence, and I spoke up. "I'm going to the shops in a minute. Do you want to come with me?"

"Okay. I'll get dressed then." He stood up and walked towards his bedroom. "See you in a minute."

"See you." I smiled, taking out my phone. Should I have lied about my depression to Finn?

I think so. I wouldn't want to cause him drama and make him worried.