HARD TIMES ━ lip gallagher²

03 | i'm your girlfriend, not your therapist

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"JESUS," AMARA HUFFED, STANDING from her bed to walk towards the sound of rapid knocking on the front door, annoyed. "This better be one hell of an apology for waking me up at eight in the- oh, you're not Lip."

"Mo White, at your service," Frank introduced the man in a button-up shirt and loose pants, Amara raised her brows suspiciously. "Amara, you've always been one of us. It's taken me years to see it, but southside should always help southside. So now whenever you need a place to stay, the Gallagher home is open to you."

"It was always open to me," she crossed her arms self-consciously, glancing to Mo and then back to Frank. "Nobody ever needed your permission for that."

"Well, don't you feel better now that you do?"

"No," Amara replied shortly.

Frank threw up his hands. "Well, you're still southside, and Mo here wants to give back to people like us. What do you say to showing your support and letting us hang a poster up in your window?"

She pretended to think. "Oh, no, wait, I just remembered, I don't vote for pedophiles."

"He's changed-"

"Also, your slogan is racist." Amara slammed the door and locked it, preventing Frank from finishing his sentence. "Good Lord."

She turned on her heel to head back into her room, but stopped short once she saw a bouquet of flowers laid on the countertop. Amara straightened and then approached them, flipping open the card that was next to it.

I'm an asshole, I know that. I didn't mean for things to end the way they did the other night, and I'm not entirely sure how to say this out loud, so I'm putting it into writing. I don't doubt you. You're headstrong and one of the smartest people I know. You go for what you want and you don't stop until you get it. You're passionate- those are real leadership qualities.

It's not that I don't think you aren't capable of running the place if it comes to that, it's the opposite, I don't know why I reacted the way I did. And I'm sorry. So please stop giving me the silent treatment I'm going insane over here.

"Via?" She called down the hall, still holding the letter.

"Yes?"

"I'm going out. I'll be back for our lunch date, promise."

Her head poked around the corner. "You better, bitch."

☆

"Hey," she greeted, standing a couple of feet away from where Lip was working on a bike with Brad, both boys turned and lifted their heads to face her. She watched as her boyfriend subtly nodded his head, and Brad made up some sort of excuse and disappeared into his office. "I got your gift."

Lip settled down the tool he was holding and turned to her fully. "Did you cry?"

She felt a smile tug up on her mouth. "No."

"Not even a little tear shed?"

Amara ducked her head with a snort. "Not one."

He sighed. "Did you like the flowers? I know they're your favorite."

She rolled her eyes and knocked his shoulder with her own before wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a chaste kiss against his lips. "I'm sorry too. But you know I have a flare for the dramatics. I shouldn't have stormed out like a child."

He cocked his head to the side. "Who said that letter was an apology?"

She kicked his leg and stepped back. "Dickhead."

Lip's chucking dialed down once Renee, the receptionist, came back and gestured towards the front desk. "There's a lady looking for you out there."

His brows furrowed. "What'd she want?"

"Didn't say."

Lip looked mildly annoyed but nodded, and left a lingering kiss on her cheek before following after Renee. "Don't break my bike, okay?"

She smirked. "No promises."

Brad came back from his office just as Lip stepped outside. "Where's he going?"

Amara shrugged. "Dunno. Some girl was asking for him."

"You're not gonna go with him?"

She blinked. "Why would I?"

"Hint: girl looking for him."

Amara shook her head with a quiet snicker. "Ah, yeah, I'm not really worried about him cheating on me. He's learned his lesson."

"What, he's cheated on you before?"

"Not exactly but..."

"Well, I'm not talking about him."

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" Amara scrunched her nose. "You're really not helping me feel better right now."

Brad grinned at her and started to work on the bike again, but stopped once yelling started to echo from outside. He shot her a quizzical look. "You hear that too, right?"

Amara adjusted the purse on her shoulder and nodded. "It's probably Lip and his side chick arguing."

Brad shook his head with an amused smile, but stood and made his way to the sound of shouting. Amara didn't know what else to do, so she trailed after him. Lip was having a scream-off with some random girl Amara had never seen before.

"Jesus, what the hell is going on out here?" Brad demanded. "I got customers. Knock it off."

"I want her back," the unnamed women sneered at Lip, before storming back into the shop. Amara scratched her head and looked around, eyes landing on the blonde once more, who was now lighting up a cigarette.

"What was that all about?" Brad asked, but Amara shook her head, and he took the hint, and stepped back into the building as well.

"I don't want to fucking talk about it," Lip said sharply once he noticed she didn't leave, but he didn't look at her.

"All right," she held up her hands in surrender. "Jesus. I'm your girlfriend not your therapist, relax."

He ran a hand through his short hair and stopped pacing. "That was Xan's mom. She wants her back."

Amara stood from the wall. "No shit, are you serious?"

"Unfortunately. I can't give her back. She'll just dump Xan on the streets again."

"Lip... it's really not your problem."

"She doesn't deserve that, alright? She's a good kid. Her mom has put her through so much shit. I'm ending it. I have a plan. Come with me."

"I can't-"

"Please."

"Lip," she took both of his hands into hers. "I can't. I already have plans. Just... don't blow up a building or anything, okay? Promise me."

He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, then to her again. "Yeah, fine. No blowing up buildings. Promise."

She grinned and briefly kissed him. "Okay, good. See you tonight."

☆