She's Thunderstorms | An Alex Turner Fanfic

Chapter 13: Plastic Tramp

                                                PLASTIC TRAMP

        Alex had been staying at my house for about a week now. It was awesome having him here, but it was also odd. It wasn't a bad odd though. It was a good kind of odd. It was different. Something new. Right when I woke up we were just together. We didn't have to make any plans in advance, he was just there. He made me feel more at home although I had already been staying in this apartment for over a year. I always felt so happy when I was around Alex.

        I crawled out of my warm bed and put on a comfy, maroon, baggy jumper over my black tank top and leggings I had worn to bed that night. My honey colored hair was in a messy bun that I had put up lazily before I went to bed. I sleepily stumbled over to the mirror above my white dresser, and yanked the pony tail holder out of my hair. My dirty blonde beach waves fell from the top of my head and I combed through it slightly, small waves being left behind.

        I staggered out of my bedroom to see Alex in the sunlight filled kitchen, standing over the stove. He turned his head to me and said, “Ey! Good morning, lovely!”

        I smiled and rubbed my eyes, “What time is it?”

        “9:00am, approximately”, he said.

        I looked down to the stove to see that he was making pancakes! My mouth hung open and I said, “Alex! You didn't have to make breakfast!”

        “Well I wanted to”, he grinned cheekily.

        Alex emptied the pan of pancakes onto two plates and he topped them with blueberries. He handed me a plate and said, smirking, “In return, however, I did go back and read some of the poetry from that book. That I Wanna Be Yours poem is quiet extraordinary.”

        “It truly is”, I said and smiled, “And thank you for making breakfast.”

        He nodded his head and we ate our breakfast chatting about a meeting I had tomorrow. See, I have been trying to write music, and with Alex around he has finally convinced me to go meet with a manager. I had planned to sing two songs. One I wrote, and one of Alex's songs, Piledriver Waltz. He had helped me practice a million times, but I was still so nervous. I have never really played guitar or sang in front of anyone accept Alex, of course.

        We continued with our day. Everything was normal. We talked, practiced the songs, listened to records, practiced some more, when suddenly, we heard a knock at the door. We were sitting on my bed in my room, guitars in hand.

        “I'll get it”, I said, sliding off my bed.

        I rushed to the door and opened it to see a furious Arielle. My eyes widened and she just stood there silent at the doorway. She let out a passive aggressive sigh and said, “How are you?”, pretending to be nice.

        “I'm fine...I guess”, I answered back. Why exactly was she here?

        She waited a moment, smiling falsely, then burst out, deadpanned,

        “Why did you steal him from me...”