Eighty Days of Heartache

the thirtieth day; [2]

THE THIRTIETH DAY;
» PART [2]

THEO HOLLAND WAS in my bedroom.

Admittedly this wasn't the first time I had caught him here, but it didn't mean that I was shaken any less. Theo has been here before when everyone else was out, but that was when I didn't feel like throwing up whenever I saw him.

He still looks the same. That stupid curly blond hair that falls loosely around his head, whilst his jaw curls strong underneath his small ears. His grey eyes are like molten silver, and those lips of have been tattooed to my brain ever since he left this town.

Russel is asleep on my bed, snoring loud enough that I can just about tell it's him snoring. But it might be me, choking on my own breath as Theo decides now is the best time for him to smirk, and take a step forward.

His movement has me snapped out of the trance he's so good at putting me in. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I spit out instantly, the music still so loud that I can feel it through my feet.

When he cups his ear and motions for me to speak up, I reach over to my speaker and turn it down to almost a soft hum in the background. My eardrums are no longer throbbing and aching, but my heart most definitely is.

"I said, what the fuck are you doing here?" Snarling the words, I watch as Russel raises his head off of my pillow before giving me the best puppy face he can muster.

That little traitor is supposed to be a guard dog.

"I said I'd be back soon," the words are a mere whisper, but it feels as if he's screaming them in my face. "Besides, can't a friend say hi to an old friend?" Theo grins widely, and I feel my heart race at his voice. He's really here. Theo's here, and it's not a sick figment of my imagination like I'd hoped.

"We aren't friends," I hiss instantly, pointing a finger at his chest which makes his eyes light up mischievously. "We aren't friends, so get that out of your thick skull."

"You're right," musing aloud, he takes a step closer so that my finger is centimetres away from touching the soft fabric of his white shirt. My finger wavers slightly. "We used to be so much more than friends."

"There's a bus out there, destined to hit you," my teeth grind together as I grunt the words, watching as his red cheeks lift into a grin. "How the hell are you in my house?"

Shrugging, Theo goes back to my bed where he sits down next to Russel. "It was real easy, actually," he smirks, leaning back with his hands behind his head whilst saying, "let me tell you my diabolical plan."

I wait patiently, ignoring the rising and falling nerves and anxiety in my stomach and chest. I feel as if I'm going to explode, and a part of me hopes that I do, so that I don't have to stay in this claustrophobic room with him.

"Firstly, I let down two of your dads tires so he had to call your mum to tow him to the next town's car repair shop. He could use my dad's shop, but he's still boycotting me."

"We all are," I sour instantly.

"Not for long," he grins back.

"Get out of my house," I mutter with contempt.

"No no no," shaking his head, Theo has the audacity to pat the space beside him and wait for me to sit down. When it's apparent I won't, he sighs before saying, "let me at least finish my story."