"She's an angel" Rodrick heffley x black fem reader

24- The complicated truth

Authors note: I dont know why but im kinda diggin the pov switching how yall feel about it ? Should I do it more often or keep it focused on the reader ? Anyways enjoy this chapter <3 I love yall like fr

The drive to y/n's house is fucking awful. Not because it's spent arguing or going back and forth at all. But because it's dead silent the entire time, and it is probably the saddest I've ever seen her. 

It's even worse once we actually get into the house. Luckily, she left the back door open, so there was no issue with getting in. Quietly, we walk up the stairs and into y/n's room. Exhausted, she throws herself on her bed and sighs in defeat. 

"Do yo-" I hesitate, unsure if this is a question I should ask. "Do you want me to stay?"

I know the question is kind of stupid, but I feel almost obligated to ask. To stay and make sure she's okay. 

She makes a groaning sound and takes a shaky breath. It's not a  no, but it certainly isn't a yes. So I take the hint and make my way out. Putting a bonnet on her hair, leaving a water bottle and Advil on her nightstand. And her small trash can, just in case. 

I have no idea how late it is by the time I get home, but it didn't matter because Susan and Manny were already waiting for me. 

"I-"

Her finger springs into the air, and she cuts me off. 

"Keys. Now." She says in her usual angry mom voice. "No car, no band practice and no seeing y/n." Her demanding tone fading slightly at the mention of y/n.

I put my keys in her hand, turn around and go to my room. Laying in bed, I stare at the ceiling with one thing on my mind. Her.

"Fuck." I whisper to myself. "I should apologize, right."

I probably should have thought it through a little bit before pulling my phone out and texting her a sloppy apology. 

𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚖🐛🌸

"i 𝚊𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢"- 𝚛

"𝚒 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚘"- 𝚛

But I didn't. 

...

After a week of no response and being ignored at school, I was really worried about y/n, and apparently I wasn't the only one. 

First it started at breakfast. 

"So." My mom pauses. "How's y/n ?" She asks with a cherry smile. 

I don't look up from my plate and avoid the question by stuffing my face with eggs. 

Second was at school. It wasn't like I was avoiding y/n on purpose, I mean I was, but not only because it was the right thing to do. She needed space and time, and if she wanted to talk to me, she would. My mom did not get the memo. 

"Y/n." She called out to her from the car window. 

"Mom drive." 

"Don't be so rude."

She calls her name again and y/n turns around this time. She gives us a confused face and waves. 

"Shouldn't we give her a ride?" 

"No, we shouldn't, we should  go home and leave her alone." I insist. 

Third and honestly the weirdest one was dinner. It was one thing to have to sit with y/n at school and not talk to her, but having to do it in my own house is much harder. Especially when she looks so good. 

y/n was dressed casually, but after seeing her in nothing but sweatpants and oversized shirts for the past week, even casual looks fancy on her.  She smiles, and her lips start moving. Someone must have asked a question, probably something about school, but I'm not paying attention to anyone who isn't her. 

My borderline  stare shifts from her outfit to her face and as she speaks I can help but smile looking at her. She was wearing the same makeup she wore every day to school, just with slightly heavier bags under her eyes. She was tired and hadn't been getting much sleep on top of probably crying.  

My eyes tear away from her and I force them to focus on my plate. A deep pool of guilt fills my stomach at the thought of y/n tossing and turning all night and crying into her pillow. Then the more selfish thoughts fill my mind. Being in her bed while she tossed and turned, wrapping my arms around her to hold her still and comfort her. Cracking a joke to cheer her up, or just being able to listen as she complained about whatever was bothering her. Of course, knowing that it was me. 

I must have been a little too lost in my thoughts because I don't hear y/n's mom as me the same question mine asked her. But when I feel a kick from across the table, I quickly snap out of it. 

"What." 

"How's school?" She asks again. "I hope you and y/n know that just because it's your last year doesn't mean the work doesn't matter."

"School is ... school." My normal answer to that question. "And trust me, we're not slacking off." 

"At least you have classes together, so if one of you star slipping the others there to help." Her dad says before taking a bite of the food. 

"Unless we're both slipping." y/n whispers mostly to herself, but I picked up on it. 

After dinner, everyone runs off and does their own thing, leaving me and y/n to do the dishes. I was forced obviously, but y/n just wanted to help me I guess. The dads go into the other room and talk about figurines, Greg and y/n's brother go upstairs and play video games, Manny tagging along to watch them. Our moms go and do whatever they want with a glass of wine in both of their hands. 

Once we're done, I skip the awkward silence or small talk and get straight to the point ad apologize. 

"I'm sorry, I really fucked up."

"You were right."

I pause and instantly my face turns skeptical before shifting back to apologetic. 

"No, y/n I was wrong."

"No, you were right." She repeats. 

I pause again, this time letting her explain what she meant before I continue. 

"At least about some things and I just didn't uh really feel like listening I guess." She fiddles with her fingers as she speaks, clearly nervous. "But the way you told me was definitely wrong." 

It was, it really was. 

"Yeah it was, I just I don't really know why I did it like that. I just kept thinking about him and you and you guys being friends and even more, and I-" 

I hated it, I hated the thought so fucking much. Quickly, my words bunch together, and I turn into a rambling mess. Trying to find the right words or right combination of words to let y/n know that I knew that I fucked up. And that I was sorry.

"I know." She tells me with a small laugh, finding my frustration funny.

"Next time, I'll try to be nicer about it."

"Trust me there will not be a next time, you Chris and Ben are the only friends I need." She pauses with a small smile. "Mostly you though." 

She looks me in the eyes and her smile grows, and somehow without thinking about it or even noticing I do the same. And for however long we just stand there and smile. It's a sorta silent thing, we're not really saying anything to each other, but it means so much.

The look, the sparkle in her dark brown eyes, the patients in the way we breathe. The feeling that flutters in my stomach, rises into my chest and turns my skin bright pink or dark red. I couldn't name it, I shouldn't name it, but it's there. I can't control it, and I don't think I want to.