3.1 | What we Fake

4. A real fireball

The only sound in the house was the distant tip-tapping of a pencil (or a pen) somewhere inside in one of the many rooms. Books were thrown open and some laid even on the floor, the room would have been dark normally but he was in his own bedroom today, after a very long time.

Liam sat on a red office chair, a pencil in hand as he tapped it furiously against the table while reading over the sixty-fifth page of his Biology text. 

He skimmed over, her eyes following every line, every word, every letter and soon, he stopped the tapping and underlined a certain statement with the black ball pen in his other hand and once he was done, he was back to reading and tapping. This had been going on for around two hours. 

Ever since Emily left his home. 

The room was quiet - even more because Emily was nowhere in sight - and just as Liam finished his black coffee that had become cold from sitting there for a while, the silence was lost as the front door clinched open and in came, the tapping of high heels on the floor. 

Liam instinctively turned to face the door of his room and as soon as he did so, in came Emily. Her shiny stilettoes were high in the air, her hair for once, had been it's regular shade of dirty blonde and left open. 

Her lips were tainted red and her eyes shone bright. She was excited. 

Her frame was beautifully adorned with a velvet red high-necked sleeveless top that stopped right over her naval button and with classic forest green satin bellbottom pants and silver stilettoes.

God, did he sometimes hate the places his mind took him.

Her cheeks were shiny, it was probably the highlighter she used - even though it was lightly applied - it worked wonders for her. 

Emily fell backwards into his bed and hid her face in his pillows. 

"What's wrong?" Liam chuckled.

"The usual," she mumbled, her voice faraway.

Her dirty blonde hair was on the sheets, blonde hair against the brown sheets. The fringes of her hair were all brushed to her left side as she turned over to stare at his ceiling. Her left hand lay at her side while her right was busy pinching the bridge between her eyebrows. 

Liam looked at her for a while but then he turned ahead, he needed to study a bit more. The class was catching up to him. He had to be at least three chapters ahead of the rest of them because Emily was always three chapters behind the rest of the class. 

The hepatic portal vein carries blood from the liver to the spleen and the gastrointestinal tract. The hepatic veins begin at the junction of splenic veins and superior mesenteric. The blood from the cystic veins and the inferior mesenteric gastric veins is also drained by the hepatic-

"Liam," Emily called as she sat up on his bed. She asked quizzically, "Does Nessa not like me anymore?"

"What?" a funny look came over him as the pencil in his hand clattered noisily against the wooden table. 

He turned the chair to face his best friend instead of the books. Sure, studies were important but Emily was more important. She was the most important thing to him. 

Emily's eyes glistened but she stared right back at him. She looked into his bright blue eyes and for a moment, something happened and with that, a piece inside Liam shook and a piece inside Emily broke. 

She whimpered and then broke down to tears, hiding her face as she sobbed into her hands. 

Liam was in her side in a jiffy. One arm slung around her shoulder, he gently pried the other hand from her face as he cooed, "Hey, hey, hey Emily, don't cry..."