You tilt your head upwards, taking the whole house into your sight.
"Is this the right address?" For the 100th time, you check your phone so you won't be making any mistake.
Glancing at the last night's message, you heave a sigh.
________________________________
Tsoookie
Baby... come over, I feel lonely...
You
How vulgar-
Tsoookie
I'm sick.. no one is home.
You
Address. Tomorrow.
________________________________
Only God knows how worried you felt. Especially right after you called him vulgar.
He should tell that he's sick earlier, you shake it off.
Conciously, the tip of your finger presses the doorbell switch as a sign you have arrived.
The door creaks and opens, a tall figure appearing before you.
"Yo," you greet him casually with your poker face.
Seriously, your personality matches him so much that sometimes people just can't distinguish between you and him.
People says that our other half usually complement each other. Like yin and yang. But in our case, we're both yin. Or yang.
An odd couple, one would say.
"Why are you here?" He says, disgust clearly shown through his tone.
"Um, duh," you roll your eyes in disgust too.
"You're the one who invited me in the first place," you scoff.
"...huh?" As clueless as he sounds, he checks his phone real quick to make sure.
"Actually, I had a fever last night so I didn't mean to invite you," he rubs his nape but his face doesn't look apologetic.
So he is basically telling me to go home?
You frown at his ignorance and turn around, legs already make its way to the gate.
The steps stop midway, though due to the firm grip on your arm.
"I'm not telling you to go away, idiot,"
Both of you end up sitting in the living room, silence decorating the moment.
The silence is comforting, but you surely don't fancy the void feeling of being there with him but not talking.
What is he? A mannequin?
That is when you notice him staring at you. Looks like he wants to initiate a conversation but being an anti-social he is, he ends up staring blatantly.
"What you looking at?"
"Dunno, something ugly," he cocks up his brow, his smartass side showing up.
What the- Two can play the fucking game.
"Bitch I ain't no mirror," you reply coldly.
"Oh you're telling me I'm ugly? Good, I was trying to look like you today," his chin rests on his palm, a rather devilish smirk playing on his face.
"I really want to give you a nasty look but you already have one, I see," you click your tongue.
"Keep talking, hun. Maybe you'll say something intellegent," he really manages to get on your nerves.
If this goes on, maybe this will lead to World War.
So you ignore his smartass remarks, getting up to keep your distance to him.
