buzzcut season

1.

Warning:
This is my least developed book both plot wise and just in general. If you like angst then this book works I guess but try any of my others. I literally despise this story.

Mini intro:

Yes I do love Lorde and I freaking love the song (the name of this story 'Buzzcut Season'. It's good if anyone wants to listen to it). Idk it just kinda made me wanna write a story like this??

Also this is bxb incase you didn't know from the tags but anyway don't read if you don't want to read bxb.

Okay, bye enjoy.

Also, because some people were confused I will just stare this here.

Kate, Mal and Ellie are siblings and Myah and Koda are siblings.
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hey, i wrote this a few years ago and since have learnt i have manic depression and a severe substance abuse issue. this book can be very triggering for those dealing with similar issues. at the time i wrote this i had yet to be introduced to weed or alcohol etc but it's evident in my writing that i had issues before i began to use such substances. that being said, they are safe (if used correctly) i just have problems and be safe and know your surroundings when indulging yourself into that world. all that matters is that you have fun and are safe. - author :)
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"I think someone forgot these?"

I look over to Mal who stands holding a pair of boxers on her finger tip.

"Those from me or you?"

"I didn't have any boy over last night," she says opening my door and tossing them somewhere in my room.

"See but I didn't think Cam would be dumb enough to leave boxers behind."

"Sober him probably wouldn't," Mal says. She walks across our small apartment to the fridge.

"Grab the milk," I say as I pour my froot loops in a bowl.

"My sister might drop by later. Please be dressed this time."

Mal sits down at the table and pours herself a bowl.

"I thought it was you," I shrug.

Last time her sister came over I was not dressed...

"Yes because I want to see you naked," she says sarcastically.

Ironically enough she's in just a t-shirt. It's pretty revealing and I'm not even sure if she's wearing underwear.

"Hey I was—"

"Drunk and horny. I've heard you a thousand times. Then again when are you not."

I eat my cereal and glare at her.

"I didn't wake up for you to attack me."

"What time even is it?" She asks.

"I don't know where my phone is. We don't have a clock."

"On the stove you dimwit."

She leans over the side of her chair so she can see the time on the stove.

"Shit it's twelve," she says. She leaves the table and rushes into her room.

A couple minutes later she walks out in black pants and she begins to button up a white shirt.

"Nice bra," I joke.

"Shut up perv," she throws on shoes, still with her shirt half unbuttoned.

"You late for work?" I laugh.