Reese Price moves to a different continent, not by choice, of course. An orphan and the youngest of five brothers, moving was the last thing she wanted to do and going to a new school was even higher on her not-wanting to-do list.
She wanted to be i...
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☕︎☕︎☕︎
As I watch the last few minutes of Avengers End Game, I hear sniffling to my left.
"Are you crying too?" I question looking at Roman. Before I can see him, he moves his head away from me. I gently dab the tissue drying my tears.
"No," he sniffles. "I don't cry."
In that instance, the back of his hand wipes across his cheeks.
"My face is itchy," he coughs to clear his throat.
"Mm-hm," I reply knowing he's lying. "It's okay, Tony was my favourite too."
"Yeah, man! Why'd he have to die," he complains throwing his popcorn to the side. I watch as he has a full-on fit and pull out my phone to record it. "Like he was the leader and never gave up. He sacrificed everything! For what? This shitty world? People won't even appreciate him!"
"And I thought I was on my period," I mumble.
"You think this is funny? It's Tony Stark, Reese!"
"Okay, okay! I get it. I'm sorry, I know he shouldn't have died," I agree hoping he doesn't lash out at me. I also put my phone away before he notices I recorded that.
"Maybe we could get the writers sued? I'm gonna talk to Grayson and Aaron about this," he speaks with utter seriousness.
My eyebrows knit together trying to understand why he's taking this so personally. I really can't come up with a reason, so I stop a few seconds later.
I swear first world problems.
"Yeah, you do that," I encourage. The credits start rolling and I turn off the screen.
"Fuck man," Roman groans as his phone starts buzzing again. "It's Sebastian... again."
"Don't answer," I tell him as I get up and start cleaning. I throw away the used tissues and empty wrappers and fold my blanket.
"Yo, he's not stopping. I literally have thirty-six missed calls from him."
"I have twenty-two, guess he loves you more."
"What about the text messages?" Roman retorts.
I roll my eyes knowing he caught me.
"Forty-seven," I speak quietly.
"What?"
"Forty-seven," I say a little louder.
"What?"
"Forty-seven, man! Fuck, dumb bitch," I yell back.
"Yeah. You're the dumb bitch, not me. Who told you to be all giggly with King, huh?"
"Who told Sebastian to be all giggly and up in his ex's personal space?" I argue.
"And this is why I am not making you talk to him right now, but you really should. It's probably not that bad."
