At the sound, I walk to the door. Peering through the peephole, a mass of black curls and familiar eyes stares back at me. Boris. Since when does Boris knock? I hesitantly open the door, and his surprised expression tells me he didn't expect to see me.
"Y/n."
"Boris," I reply coolly as he steps inside. It's hard to stay angry with him. "What brings you here?"
"What, am I not allowed to come over anymore?" he says, feigning hurt.
"You know that's not what I meant," I respond, shutting the door behind him.
"Planning a swim?" he remarks, eyeing my attire.
"No, I'm heading to work," I retort, a hint of venom in my tone.
"You have a job?"
"You'd know if you weren't so wrapped up with Kylie."
"Don't start that," he snaps, stepping dangerously close, forcing me against the wall. I roll my eyes at his antics. "You'd be more likable if you toned down the bitchness," he comments, then strides away towards Theo's room. Unbelievable.
---
Arriving home around six in the evening, Boris is still there with Theo, both inebriated as if nothing happened. They're sprawled on the floor, giggling and chatting.
"Guys?" I mutter, nudging Boris's foot. "Theo, didn't you have an interview?"
"Oh nooo!" Theo exaggerates, followed by more giggles.
"Are you kidding me? What the hell!" My frustration spikes, especially considering how much Theo wanted that job.
"Oh, come on, y/n, are you our mom?" Boris retorts, sharing a look with Theo, their laughter echoing through the room. I sigh, grab my bag, and head for the door.
"Can't take a joke, huh!?" Boris yells after me.
"You're insufferable," I snap, slamming the door without a glance backward. The sound of my footsteps on the concrete mimics the erratic rhythm of my thoughts. Fine, if he wants to play this way.
I cut across a few lawns until I reached the familiar clay house. It's been weeks, and the place is in disarray worse than I've ever seen. Boris's house was never this cluttered; it must be Kylie's doing. Moving cautiously among the scattered items, irritation boils within me as I navigate the chaos. Amidst the disorder, conflicting emotions rise—a blend of anger and concern for Boris, seemingly entangled in this unforeseen mess.
Planning on pissing him off as much as possible tonight, I grab a bottle from the floor and ascend to Boris's room. The foreign objects belonging to Kylie clutter the space. Has she been living here? Spotting a pack of menthols, a smirk curls on my lips. Boris detests the minty taste; I savor its burning sensation as I take a drag. Among his DVDs, I notice a collection of CDs, mostly Slavic rock bands, with Deftones and Korn. Picking one with an intriguing cover, I pop it into the DVD player and crank up the volume. Extinguishing my cigarette on Kylie's black bag with a cheetah print, a sense of satisfaction washes over me. I despise her. With a newfound energy, I skip downstairs, flooding the rooms with light, and lock the front door, the music pulsating through the air, a strange sense of accomplishment settling within me.
(Boris's POV)
Almost guiltily, I watch her storm out, her departure quenching the warmth within me, leaving me cold.
"Potter," I mutter, lighting a cigarette, "she's upset, isn't she?"
"She's really upset," Potter confirms, eyeing me with concern.
"What does she have to be upset about? I should be the one upset," I mutter defensively, feeling his gaze piercing through me.
"You've been distant for weeks, Boris," he sighs, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.
I have a heavy sigh. "Both of you, suffocating, clinging onto me," I retort, pushing myself off the floor. "Forget it." I leave Potter behind, making my way back home.
Halfway up the street, I could hear the blearing of bass only getting louder the closer I got to the familiar door and wrapped my warm hands around the cold handle stunning a bit doing so, a twist, and a jiggle, nothing. Did she fucking lock me out? You've got to be fucking kidding me. I actually laughed out loud I can't believe she's being this damn childish. I pace back in forth in front of the house.
"Seriously!" I yell up towards my open window. No response.
"what the fuck." I mutter. "What the fuck am I gonna do."
YOU ARE READING
late nights {Boris Pavlikovsky}
Fanfiction"You threw me off a roof.." - reader "Boris, you're drunk." His response sent a small pain through my chest. - theo "My mother fell out a window and died," he said extremely nonchalantly. I could feel my jaw drop. - boris ...
