Troye's pov
"Oh, honey, let it out." Amelia muses, holding my curls up away from my face as I hurl into the toilet.
I practically hug it, my stomach churning away. She pats my back and lets out a sad coo, so much pity floating in these four walls.
"Fuck," I groan, emptying out my belly of any and everything.
"Here, I'm gonna get you some tissues. Stay here." She murmurs, being my only source of comfort as Jacob left.
I hear her shuffle around and pull a few tissues out of the box, getting back down on her knees and offering me them. Taking it, I whisper a thank you and wipe my face, sweat coating my skin. She hands me a water bottle Jacob left on the floor four days ago and hands it to me. I take it and chug it down swiftly, wanting that awful taste out of my mouth.
A cough coming from the tub and we both jump, me pushing away from the toilet. Then a giggle, Amelia and I exchange confused looks.
She pulls the curtain back and cracks out laughing. I sit up on my knees and look at what's so funny. Smacking a hand over my mouth, I stifle my laughter.
"I'm washin' me and my clothes." She grins, wiggling around in the tub, with yes, all over her clothes on.
"She's drunk as fuck," Amelia snickers, "Sweetie, do you need help up?"
The girl gives her a funny look, "Bitch, I'm washin' me and my clothes."
"Dear God."
Twenty minutes of babysitting her and calling her a taxi, she is on her way. I sit up on the worktop next to Amelia, mostly everyone gone at this point, leaving around thirty people here. Glancing down between my thighs, I shudder at the memory of being fucked against this surface.
"So what are your goals?" She asks, popping a grape in her mouth.
I look over at her, "My goals?"
She hums, "Mhm. Your goals, your aspirations in life."
I let out a slurred sigh, "I don't know yet."
"I just don't know," I add.
She nudges her elbow against mine, "Hey, it's fine. That's okay."
"You have all of your life to find them." She smiles, "No pressure."
I nod slowly and lean against the wall.
"Thank yo-ou," I mix my words together and giggle, clapping my palms against my face and dragging them down.
"What are- what are your goals?" I manage to say, trying to concentrate my gaze on her.
That makes her eyes light up, looking giddy and full of joy.
"Well, for starters, happiness. A stable job, smooth flowing finance, a wife to come home to. Stuff like that." She explains.
My grin grows wider, "A wife?"
She nods, cheeks flushing, "Yes, you heard correct."
"Are you-?" I question, unable to get the word out.
"Gay, yes. Well- bisexual. Nothing to fuss over." She waves me off.
I can't help but screw my brows together, unable to understand one thing.
"If that is one of your goals, why are you here?" I pause, "Why are you wasting your time on me?"
She drops her legs down and subtly shakes them back and forth.
"I don't know..." Amelia trails off, "I guess it's easier to do hookups than a real relationship. So much work."
I sigh, "Ameliaaa."
"You're not going to find the right person if you're holding onto the wrong one."
She looks down at her palms and stares.
After a short minute of silence, she pips back up.
"You're a hypocrite." She claims.
I quirk a brow up, "Am I?"
She nods, "Yeah. You're never going to find the right person if you're hanging onto the wrong ones."
"That includes me, that includes your flatmate, anyone really." She adds.
"I'm fine." I mutter, "I'm not looking for anyone right now."
"Well, neither am I." She pauses, "And I will drink to that."
She raises her red solo cup up and tilts her head back, taking a hearty gulp of liquor in her mouth. I hop off the worktop and try to balance myself on my feet.
"I'm going to head to bed," I murmur, "You're more than welcome to join me if you want."
"Sweet dreams, Mellet." She mumbles, finishing off her drink.
"Sweet dreams."
