All Damn Day | Post Malone

Chapter 4

~ Sophie ~
When the night comes, the sun being traded in for a bright crescent moon, she's infinitely relieved to hear nothing but the crickets outside. The usually raucous assembly of people has changed locations for the night, choosing to partake in their various vices in some club in the middle of LA instead of in the living room. She's the only one that hasn't gone—mainly because she doesn't want to but also because they may have forgotten she was even in her little guest house alone in the first place—and she's looking forward to taking advantage of that by indulging in the large flatscreen in the main house. It's only ten-thirty—everyone left earlier than usual since the commute to LA was rather long—and she knows it will be well past the wee hours of the morning when they return.

She opens the door of her small sanctuary, clicking it shut softly behind her once she exits, and she notices the way the moon reflects in the stagnant water of the pool as she walks along the beige concrete of its perimeter. The heat of the day has soaked into the rough surface, and it heats her feet through pleasantly as she unhurriedly steps across it. The air is warm and still, no flowing breeze around to rustle the palm leaves of the trees lining the white boards of the surrounding fence, but there's an energy to it she can't quite identify, probably having something to do with the Pisces moon in the sky.

It takes her only a minute to reach the sliding door of the main house, and she punches in the security code on the lock box before pulling it open with ease. It's unusually quiet as she crosses the lip of the doorway, sliding the large glass door closed behind her as her feet find the soft carpet of the back room. It looks so much different than it had a few nights ago, the carpet free of abandoned solo cups and rogue ping pong balls, and she cautiously looks around the dark open space before padding down the hallway, her bare feet stepping noiselessly on the hardwood floor as she walks. It's silent in the house, thanks to everyone being at the club, and the only sound she can hear are the crickets chirping outside.

She finds the living room with ease, and she makes her way towards it only to stop in her tracks once she turns the corner, recognizing the blue glow emanating from the television screen. The faint sound of voices reaches her ears from her close proximity to the room now, and her eyes fall to the form on the couch in front of her as nervous bees buzz around in her stomach. She stands stock still for a minute, taken aback by the presence of someone else when she'd been under the impression she was here alone.

No one was supposed to be here— yes, Post was supposedly coming back early, but early for him was typically well past midnight. He's sitting with his arms spread out on the back of the couch, his attention thankfully held by whatever show he's watching, and she thinks she should run back to her room, but her feet are frozen to the ground as her fight or flight response short circuits.

Shouldn't he be out with the team? It was his team after all.

"Hey."

His voice startles her, quiet though it is, and she stands there wide eyed for a few too many seconds before gathering her bearings enough to answer him. She realizes he's looking at her, his head turned away from the TV to look in her direction, and she wonders how long he's been doing so before softly clearing her throat.

"Hey," she answers quietly. She stands there awkwardly— a few feet away from the end of the couch, hovering in the invisible threshold of the room—and she crosses her arms as she tries to think of something else to say.

"Sorry," she says, apologies having always fallen from her lips too readily. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here."

"I have that early photoshoot tomorrow, so I thought it best to stay home and try to get an early night," he explains. He's still looking at her, his eyes squinting like he's searching for something but he doesn't quite know what that something is.