Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
☆♬○♩●♪✧♩ ♩✧♪●♩○♬☆
For the first time in a while, Emma dreaded going back to Manchester.
The departure was delayed for as long as possible, especially because Mark was going to stay in the house for a couple more days before heading back to London.
Emma really liked Mark's company; he understood exactly how she felt about music and validated the turmoil and hurt that she'd been dealing with since Kurt Cobain because he'd been experiencing the same thing. Attending Glastonbury had really helped them both in that regard.
In different ways, of course; Mark hadn't gotten the doses of Liam that Emma had gotten (and thank God for that).
The one thing that kept her mildly excited about coming back home was the prospect of telling James all about it, minus any and all bits that involved her and Liam.
Unfortunately, she didn't want to hear much about it. She pretended to be interested for a moment but it quickly became clear that there were other things she wanted to be doing instead of listening to her little sister go on and on about her Sunday at Glastonbury with her mates.
And Emma wasn't stupid. She was aware that was the case but still, she wanted to pretend she had an older sister who gave a fuck so she told her everything anyway.
"So you've never heard of Oasis, then?" Emma asked James. They were both sitting on the couch, James's left cheek squeezed against the arm of it, seemingly bored out of her mind.
"Mh mh." was her response. "No fucking clue, honestly."
"Never heard of Supersonic?" Emma asked again. God, you sound so desperate, man. You can clearly see she's not interested.
"No Emma, I have no clue what that is." She mumbled lazily.
"An Oasis song." The girl muttered.
"Yeah, I figured that part out." James sarcastically replied, shifting positions and placing her legs on Emma's lap. The latter stared up at the ceiling in annoyance. "What I really want to know is, is the Blur fella as fit as he looks in the pictures?" She smirked.
"Damon, you mean." To that, James nodded. "Sure, yeah. He's well fit." Emma shrugged. The question was bare minimum as far as showing interest but Emma figured it was better than nothing. "Ain't he a bit too young for you?" She joked.
James scoffed. "Piss off, kid." She replied, gently kicking the girl's stomach.
Before Emma could even begin to wonder how her and her sister could from an uncomfortably soul-draining conversation to seamless banter, the phone started to ring and Emma took the opportunity to push James's legs off of her.
"I'll get that." She announced. She walked to the phone and picked up the phone. "Hello?"
