Desirable Heat

3 | Three

Low-key she be freaky (Woah)
Every time I'm on a scene I'm leaving with a hickey

-Lil Bubblegum

••

Athena

I spin my keys around my index finger before picking the specific key that I needed to unlock my apartment. Well, our apartment. Me, my brothers and Millie's. I push down the handle and enter.

The scent of the air changes, the smell of Chinese takeout engulfing my nose.
"Yo, where you been?" Sebastian, my annoying younger twin brother called out from most likely the couch where he usually hibernates. I turn the corner, my prediction in fact being correct.

"The gym." I drop my duffel bag onto the floor, unzipping the grey jersey I had on and discarding it in my laundry basket. "Where's Mills?"

"Work."

"Again?" I furrow my eyebrows, exploring our fridge for a drink of some sort. I opt for a bottle of water. "Yup. I think she's a workaholic."

For once in his life, he was right. She works way more than she actually needs to. "Maybe you could learn a thing or two from her." Walking past the lazy log on our couch, I press the freezing cool bottle of water against his cheek. He cringes, his neck representing a plastic milk carton with a dent at the top.

It was already 11pm. "Always choosing the oddest jobs." I mutter to myself, grabbing a clean towel from the linen cupboard before entering the bathroom to take a hot shower.

12Am and still no sign of my short and clueless best-friend. I sigh, tossing and turning in my sleep. Sleep that I still haven't received. Groaning, I reach over to my nightstand and disconnect my phone from it's charger. I find her contact profile, our last conversation being on the subject of what she wanted from Mc Donald's.

'A large Big Mac meal with coke! AND EXTRA PICKLES! MAKE SURE YOU SAY THAT PLZZ!! 💕' Was her message. I had only reacted to it with a thumbs up emoji.

Me: When do you finish your shift?

I send the message, shutting my phone off and tossing it on the side of my bed and I bury my face into my pillow in hopes that I might fall asleep this time. I don't.
My phone pings and my arm blindly grabs it on one go, my face still planted into my pillow.

Swiping it unlocked, I get the notification saying I received a new message. But not by who I wanted it to be from.

Chloé: I miss you xx

"I just saw you yesterday." Shaking my head, I leave her message on read and open the conversation that I've been trying to get a response from.

12:33. This girl really has a death wish.

Me: Text me back, Millie.

I tap my finger against the side of my phone, waiting for a reply or for at least that notification telling me she's seen my message.

Nothing. I exhale a long breath of air, glaring up at the ceiling above me. Without another second to think, I'm already slipping my converses on and getting changed into a pair of black skinny jeans with a white turtle neck, finishing it off with a leather jacket.