Ride or Die | Sam Fender AU

029

"Y/N," your dad called for the fourth time, frustration evident in his voice.

"Hmm?" you hummed, looking up from your phone distractedly.

"It's Christmas Day, what's so interesting on your phone?" he huffed.

"My friends have texted me," you told him with a simple shrug. Your phone pinged again, serving to irritate your dad even more, his annoyance growing with every second that your eyes were glued to your phone. You weren't being rude but it was four in the afternoon and you had spent the entire day with your dad. All you were doing was sitting on the sofa whilst watching a movie but in your dad's books that meant you weren't allowed to be on your phone. It didn't make sense to you.

"Put it away, Y/N," he snipped.

"What?" you soffed, staring at him in disbelief.

"Put it away or I'll take it off you," he continued, raising his eyebrow at you in a dare to challenge him.

"You're not serious?" you laughed humourlessly but he didn't falter. "Dad, I'm twenty-one!"

"I don't care," he snapped. "It's Christmas Day and I'm telling you to put your phone away. I don't get to see you much, so stop being rude."

"It's not like I got to see you very much growing up either!" you bristled, gritting your teeth in annoyance. "But hey ho, I got used to that!"

"Watch your attitude, young lady," he scolded.

"That's all you can come up with, yeah?" you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. "You know I'm right, so you wanna comment on my attitude?"

"Right, that's it," he hissed, holding his hand out. "Phone."

"Absolutely not!" you protested.

"I mean it, Y/N, give me your phone right this second," he snapped.

A scoff fell from your lips. "Ain't gonna happen," you spat, standing up from your seat on the sofa, shaking your head at him and marching out of the room. If he followed you, you didn't know, your hearing overpowered by the blood rushing through your ears in your blind rage.

You searched on your phone for the train times to Newcastle, knowing without your dad to take you to King's Cross, you would have to take a multitude of changes on the tube first and with it being Christmas Day, services would be inconsistent. Luckily, you found a viable option that you would make if you left now, so you hurriedly shoved your belongs in your duffle bag and threw it over your shoulder. You made sure the coast was clear before sneaking downstairs and carefully through the door, all but running in the direction of the train station.

It was dark out and you were on edge but the thought of being wrapped up in Sam's arms that night was enough to power you through. The frosty air bit at your fingertips and you curled into yourself as you tried to stave off the cold, berating yourself for not changing into something warmer but you didn't exactly have time and your coat was tucked away under the cupboard, completely inaccessible unless you wanted to rouse the suspicion of your dad. It wasn't entirely unbearable but that may have been because you had become immune to the subzero temperatures. Your nose was streaming like a river and you couldn't feel the upper layer of your skin by the time you reached the train station, grateful to be somewhere even slightly warmer.

You thought about texting your boyfriend as you stepped onto the first train but the thought of surprising him on Christmas Day was much more appealing. You shivered with anticipation, willing the journey to pass by more quickly but instead, it dragged. You were pulling out your hair when you finally got onto your last train, preparing yourself for the almost three hour journey. What, on a normal day, would have taken you in total around four hours, ended up taking six between delays and limited services. In that time, you managed to finish the entirety of one of your books, a stark difference in comparison to your last LNER experience to say the least.