⌁ Thunder ⌁ Lana Del Rey Fanfiction

chapter thirty-three: sincerity

"Oh my god, hurry the fuck up!" I cry out with a few bangs on the bathroom door, using the sides of my fists.

I sigh at the height of my exasperation as I slide them off the face of the door and move to press my back on it instead.

"Fault's yours for letting her in first..." Irene murmurs, making a little 'tsk' sound as she plops down at the edge of my bed.

I tilt my head and grin, letting myself ease into a chuckle. "Yeah. Whatever." I grumble. Irene shakes her head and seems to start counting off the seconds of our wait in her mind.

she's never been very patient herself.

As I study her still, impatient and unfocused features, I realize that it's already been a few days since the cataclysmic morning-after.

Things've been...fine.

I know that to anyone else it might seem like our resolution's been shit, but—we're managing. I mean, it's been a complicated life. Why complicate it more with our own stupid, bad sentiments?

In the wake of this complicated mess, I'm trying my hardest to keep everything and everyone together.

Even if that leaves things in this confusing stage where it feels like it's all one big joke, that not a single one of us is in on.

I drew that from the fact that I can't let the best people in my life take the damage just because I go off the rails and live without thinking. At the minimum, I have to stand firm. Keep in mind everything that's happened, counting what I've done, and act accordingly.

Mediating, or at least that's what I try.

for others, that might mean moving on in order to let go.

The door I lean on as I think my thoughts, swings out and throws me forward in the process.

I nearly land on my face, but don't acknowledge it because there's more relief than annoyance I hold for Zella finally getting out.

I give Zella an incredulous glare as she struts out with a smirk, who's more than satisfied with annoying us.

"Go first," I suggest to Irene, keeping my eyes focused on a Zella prepared to drive me up the walls.

Irene quickly breezes past the two of us.

Zella's little smirk follows Irene's trail, turning her torso wildly as she hugs the towel to her chest, her gaze licking and clawing for even the smallest sign of a hint.

She reaches the bathroom and clicks the door shut. We start to hear the water running again, a rhythm of pattering droplets crashing down on the floor.

Zella's eyes then seem to light in flames at the faint thuds of Irene's shedding clothes landing on the floor. I imagine that she imagines bare skin, aimlessly.

She's hungry.

This allows me to run my mouth as I want to.

"You're insane," I grit out, rolling my eyes as I walk past Zella.

"What?!" she calls out, a hint of surprise in her voice. "I didn't even say anything this time..." she mutters.

I'm agitated on the verge of pure annoyance—but not for whatever reason it seems like.

Zella's been crashing at my house for days, ever since the party. Don't get me wrong, I love the company, but I just can't get a moment to myself. I'm achy, worn out, and too socialized to get a breather.