eleven

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Chris stares at the milkshake, mindlessly moving the straw between his fingers. It makes a bit of a mess, as whip cream covers part of his hand. It makes Gordie give a quiet sigh, his finger tapping against the table of the booth. " I'm sorry for doing that to you, Chris," he apologizes. The blond looks up slowly, indicating Gordie to continue. " I shouldn't have made you choose between us. I should've just kept my anger in check."

" It's okay," Chris says after a few moments, keeping his eyes on his friend. " I just wish you could forgive him."

" I've been trying too," Gordie groans, laying his on the table, a quiet thud being heard. He lets a moment pass before lifting his head up, a tired sigh leaving him again. " I just-- I don't know-- fuck," Gordie grumbles, feeling the words on the tip of his tongue. He can only breathe dramatically, deciding to change the topic. " Are things better at home?"

" Red forgot to clean up again," Chris scoffs. " I mean, I get he likes to dye his hair, but he could have least cleaned up the dye he left on the kitchen floor! I ran off as soon I got one foot in the door," Chris sighs, leaning into the uncomfortable booth. He licks the whipped cream off his fingers. " I just climbed through the window,"  he adds, a sinful hum leaving him as he falls in love with the whipped cream.

" Wait-- what did happen between your brother and Red?" Chris questions, noticing neither has ever told him what happened. He can tell it isn't good, as Gordie sticks his nail into his mouth.

" Well..." Gordie trails off. His hand moves away from his mouth, eyes squinting at something through the window. Chris raises a brow, turning in his seat to look. The two find the Cobras in front of the glass door. The group chats before walking off, a burgundy head of hair sticking out in the middle.

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