Lupo

Chapter Eighteen: In My Room

Hi all, only a short one this week. Probably not the update you were hoping for (no Bash) but he'll be back again in the next one...

This is very rushed, and doesn't really convey fully what I wanted it to, but I'm bored with it and cba to work more on it now (apols). I shall come back to it and edit another time.

From the next chapter on, most of the excitement begins, and Bash and Darcie will feature in almost every chapter ;) Lots of goodness (I hope) to come!

Unedited!

(C)copyright SJCLewis2020

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"I don't want you to bite my head off..." Minerva began drily, all niceties abandoned as soon as the front door was shut. "But so much for 'I'm not speaking to him ever again'. Nice, cosy little date to Tescos?"

Darcie felt her stomach lurch horribly with anxiety, but forced her expression to remain neutral. "I ran into the bastard down Morrel." she grunted, dragging her shopping bags down the hall towards the kitchen.  "And he just wont take a hint that I'm not interested."

Minerva snorted. "That's not what it looked like!"she insisted, lolloping behind her, Tim in tow. "I saw him carry your bags right up the garden path. And you were making sex eyes at him when I opened the door."

Darcie felt herself flush, and her stomach gave another horrible, twisting lurch. Dropping the blasted shopping bags on the floor, she yanked open her kitchen cupboard and began to slam things haphazardly onto a shelf, shaking her hair over her shoulder to hide her face. "I was not making sex eyes at him!" she hissed, mortified, hyper-conscious of Tim watching her as he took up a place against the kitchen door. "I told you I can't stand him."

Minerva laughed. Tugging open the fridge, she seized a red bull and chugged half of it before belching loudly and replying: "Alright! It's just... suspicious, is all i'm saying."

Darcie ground her teeth. There was a brief, awkward pause, during which she frantically searched for the right response, before she gave up and forced herself to face the room. Shutting the cupboard door on the last of her shopping, she balled up her plastic bags and tossed them on the counter.

"Finished your diss, yet?" she huffed, changing the subject. "You must be nearly done by now?" Folding her arms, she cast a stern, motherly eye over her friend, examining her properly for the first time that afternoon. 

Minerva's hair was greasy and matted. Her oversized field hocky shirt was stained and wrinkled, and she'd been wearing the same pair of leggings for about a week now. Darcie was sure she was sleeping in them - whenever she slept at all.

Minerva's pale, exhausted face crumpled. "Fuck no." she moaned bitterly, draining the other half of her redbull before crushing the can in her hand. "Honestly i'm in hell. It's never ending!"

Darcie unfolded her arms and lent back on her elbows against the kitchen counter, her frown deepening. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Tim watching her, his shoulders hunched and his face taut in a clearly forced, uncomfortable smile. "Do I want to know how much you've got left to do?" 

Minerva moaned again, and tossed the empty can into the sink. "I have exactly 42 hours and 38 minutes until the deadline..." she huffed, glancing up at the kitchen clock. "And...and I still have a chapter and the conclusion to write..."

Shit.

Darcie turned quickly to frown at the can in the sink, covering her alarm. Tim, however, appeared unable to disguise his obvious wince at Minerva's words, who let out a hollow laugh at his horrified expression.