platonic, 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞

three

Azalea was sitting on her balcony, 'The Keeper of Lost Things' open on her lap, soaking up the warm, orange glow of that day's sunset when she heard a loud and obnoxious knock on the front door that was unmistakably Ivy's. Sighing, Azalea stood up and walked back into her room, throwing her book down onto her bed as the voices of her dad and his girlfriend sounded from downstairs.

"Lea," Sam called up the stairs. "Ivy's here, come down."

"Coming," Azalea shouted back.

"This is gonna be hell," she thought, grabbing her phone quickly to text Louis.

louis hynes... beans

azalea
ivy's here
kill me please😃

louis
ugh good luck
try to just brush off the shit she says

azalea
i try
she's just so ugh u know

louis
yeah ik

azalea
if i murder her
(which is a high possibility)
will u help me cover up my tracks

louis
100%
besties activities
so crazy🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪

azalea
such crackheads🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪
anyway
off to hell

louis
try not to kill her

azalea
can't promise anything😀

As Azalea walked down the stairs, she could hear the irritating voice of Ivy, her dad's bitch of a girlfriend, ringing through the house. She cringed at the fakery in Ivy's voice and wondered how her father did not not noticed it. Reaching the kitchen door, Azalea paused to take a deep breath and check her watch. 6:58. "It's just an hour," she thought, "it's just an hour." As she walked into the kitchen, Ivy looked from Sam to his daughter and the smile on her face turned to a grimace. She was wearing a white body-con dress, her long, blonde hair was curled, and she had a large glass of white wine in her hand. Her lip was curled and her eyes narrow as she stared at Azalea with disgust like she was some kind of vermin. Noticing this, Sam turned around and seeing his daughter, smiled.

"Lea," he said cheerily, "get over here."

Azalea walked over to him, her hands stuffed in her pockets and avoiding Ivy's harsh gaze.

"Wine?" Sam asked, putting down his own glass and Azalea nodded.

"Hello, Azalea," came Ivy's voice and she turned her attention from her dad to Ivy.

"Hi," she replied shortly.

"Didn't bother getting dressed at all then?" Ivy said with a fake smile, eyeing Azalea's hoodie and joggers, her large, black glasses, and messy ponytail.

Azalea gritted her teeth together and took a deep breath to control herself. "I'm comfortable."

"Clearly," Ivy said in a mocking fashion. "Have you tried contact lenses?" she continued, examining Azalea's glasses. "The glasses make your face look chubby." Ivy quickly looked at Sam and seeing that he was busy with the wine, bent her face closer to Azalea's. "Or maybe it isn't the glasses," she said quietly. "Maybe you need to go on a diet. Just a suggestion."

She pulled away just as Sam was coming back to them, holding a glass of wine in each hand: one for himself and one for his daughter.

"It's nice to see you two talking," he said, handing Azalea her glass and wrapping his arm around Ivy's waist.