Troye's pov
I lean over the toilet seat and let my insides all ban against me. A whimpered cry slips between my lips as i spill out last night's bad decisions.
"Take a shower. You stink." The heartless flatmate that is Jacob mutters as he walks past the washroom and into the lounge.
"Fuck you, " I let out, him being the one to throw a stupid party.
After a few hours, I felt okay to move again, wobbling my way to my bed. I carefully get under my duvet that's all warm and cozy. What turned into me taking care of him, just might have to add myself to the list. It's only a hangover, Troye, calm down.
"I'm suspecting you aren't a drinker." Jacob puts his two cents in, leaning against my door.
I roll over and glare at him, "This was your fault."
"I don't see why it is." He defends, "It's not like I forced you to drink and get shit face drunk."
I don't let him know that secretly he is right. Instead, I roll back over, "Go away."
He scoffs under his breath as he walks off in the distance.
I don't expect him to give a damn about me. I'm simply just his flatmate. Maybe that's all we'll ever be.
