PLATFORMS ↛ D.A

Mistakes and Mishaps

Waterloo | 08:43am

Work was shit. Life was shit. Work to live, live to work and all that but being in a constant loop of tired, grumpy mornings and stoned nights it was becoming a cycle that bored Amelia. Sometimes it felt like she was on an episode of Corrie, you know, a narrative to her life starting with the whole situation surrounding her relationship that felt out for everyone to see, and it wasn't dying down either.

Liam had continued to text her and Noel was up in the air about feeling in the middle of it when really karma had slapped her in the back of the head for playing two men, all of the weight falling on her shoulders as a result.

Aside from that, everything was dandy. Damon was being a moody bitch as per, Jamie wasn't in and the house was a little tidier than a hostel.
It was fine. Well, that was what the general structure of the day was giving until the news broke out that Damon had to work late tonight while Amelia didn't have to go in at all.

"D'you want to straighten yer face?" She slapped the back of Damon's head, sitting down on the sofa next to him and flicking his channel off to find her own. "Have you eaten?"

He shook his head with a groan, nudging her extended legs off of his lap. "Come in with me?" His eyes somewhat pleading and Amelia chose to ignore them, instead focusing her gaze on his unbuttoned shirt and the tie that hung over his shoulder.

"Fuck me it's not that bad." She sat back, admiring his bilious expression. "Just call sick
if you really don't want to do it, I'm 'avin a night with Jamie anyway." Damon watched as she leaned forward for the remote once again, pointing it at him. "You won't be missed."

"Right then." He tutted.

"But, I can loosen you up a bit." Her hand found its way to his upper thigh, eyes locking to his after he had leaned back to look down the hall. "No?" Her face turned dour.

"No." He acknowledged, briskly standing up and buttoning his shirt without any words. "I'll see you at seven." His voice sharp, like she had done something to annoy him.

He grabbed his keys, swinging the door shut behind him and Amelia was left in a state of worry. Had he found out about Liam?
She watched from the flat as he paced the concrete back and forth, swinging the car door open to toss his bag in and leaning on the roof with still arms, head down.

"Well fuck." She instead muttered to herself, puffing her cheeks out and slapping the air out of them.

The flat was dead silent when no one was
around, the only noise was the babbling from the tv and Amelia suddenly felt the urge to look around as if she hadn't lived here for the past few months. Not much was new aside from a few photos and insults plastered on the fridge via magnets and sticky notes, heels now added to the collection of shoes in the hall and Damon's room had lovely new additions like the fairy lights he had sulked about for a week before eventually realising they did omit a softer light.

His room had changed quite a bit, the whole layout was different and Amelia governed the space with her clothes and shoes. There were even some things he was yet to notice, like the photo of them on her beside table. Her hand on his cheek, making him turn to her accompanied by his off guard frown.

He of course despised it, forever complaining that his hair looked shit to which Amelia often replied that it always looked shit. She had gotten the knack of taking off guard photos of him and it was painful to say he looked good in all of them.

Regardless, he had left the room in a mess.
His wet towel strung across the floor next to a clean shirt that had been pushed off the bed and Amelia only sighed, crouching down to sort through the clothes he had left on the rug from the night before. He was awful for leaving belts hooked around jeans, creasing clean laundry to shove it into a drawer and mismatching socks.