Yellow.

twenty two.

Hi, if you can, please take a minute to glance through my other works, thank you,

enjoy a new update x.

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After three gentle knocks, the oak door is reluctantly pulled open. Iman flares her nostrils, rolling her eyes and gesturing the dapper dressed man into her room. Around his fingers is a bouquet of fresh pink peonies gently wrapped and secured. A conceited smirk plastered on his face, walking towards the chair designated for him and chuckling to himself. 

Now, Chad is not that much of an idiotic personality, nor is he the kindest of them all. 

The situation between Iman and Chad is a simple description of not being compatible, and both parties secretly know the bitter truth. It has been like this since high school, and Chad is not willing to give up yet, simply because he cannot accept the fact that not every girl will be drawn to him. Iman on the other hand is just desperate to get over Harry.

Well, was desperate.

“You look lovely,” he teases, setting the bouquet aside.

“I thought the phone call ended everything,” she frowns, crossing her arms.

“You cut the call off, and that obviously means you are still upset,” Chad lightly chuckles.

“Well, you were being really snobbish and annoying on the phone, my patience wore out,” Iman defends, and gently shuts the door.

Chad nods in agreement and slowly scans the surrounding. 

The walls are coated in a subtle rose pink shade, a single bed is pushed close to the side of one wall, which has been gently decorated with dried and spray painted sunflowers. A portable reading table is close to the window, holding up a display of half opened books, splattered note pads and various stationaries. 

There is a small wooden bookshelf pinned up right above the table, displaying an array of all the books belonging to Iman, including the Twilight saga books that are still appearing brand new. Some Captain America comic books, and other various genres of books. It is a neat space, and nothing surprising to Chad because she holds the personality of an organised person.

“This is sweet,” he points out, staring at a framed picture of a young looking Iman and an older man smiling at the camera. There are little fresh petals around the picture, and he knows what it means.

“It’s for Father’s day, I miss him.” She quietly says, and drops her eyes down.

“I’m sorry,” Chad gulps, clearing his throat and looking at her.

“It’s okay. I’m used to it now, Daya just isn’t, but with time, the pain will morph into nostalgia I guess,” Iman releases a breath and smiles.

“Well, with the way she welcomed me into the house, I was about to say she seems way fiercer than you are,” Chad jokes, and Iman smiles.

“Yeah, she is just really lucky to have a hard shell and deal with her stuff privately,”

The two of them release their breaths at the same time, and Iman slowly cocks her head to the side, still wanting to know what he is actually doing in her home on a Sunday midday. Right after an argument about his rude attitude to Harry.

And, by the way, Harry has suddenly stopped replying to her texts.

“Chad, what are you doing here now?” she tucks her hands into the pockets of her denim dungarees.

“Apologising for my rude replies on the phone, and yeah for upsetting your special friend.” He reluctantly shrugs, forcing himself to sound sincere.