𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 ━ connor murphy x reader.

Eleven

[Bethesda, Maryland.
Monday, October 19, 2015.]

Y/n couldn't believe she had to go to school the next day. After the restless night she had, she was convinced that she deserved at least a few hours of sleep-in time. If she was being honest, she half-expected to see a text from her father in the morning, telling her that she could take the day off. But— much to her dismay— that message never arrived. When the sun crept through the blinds of her bedroom, Y/n dragged herself out of bed, rubbing the lingering sleep from her eyes.

She then shuffled downstairs, her mind still clouded with thoughts of the previous night. The memory of Connor passed out on the couch, weighed heavily on her. She felt a strange responsibility toward him, something she couldn't quite shake. So, before getting ready, she went to check up on him, hoping he was still there and maybe in need of a ride home or at least some breakfast. But when she reached the living room, she was greeted with an empty couch.

The blanket she had draped over him was folded neatly, the glass of water and aspirin gone. Her heart sank a little. Connor was nowhere to be found.

He must've walked home, she realized, a thought that made her feel deeply sorry for him. The idea of him walking through the early morning streets, hungover and alone, tugged at her emotions. But it wasn't like she could dwell on it now—she had to get ready for school! Her morning routine passed in a blur. Y/n moved on autopilot, dressing and grabbing her things with little enthusiasm. The house felt emptier than usual, the absence of her father and Connor's quiet departure leaving behind an unsettling silence. When she finally stepped out the door, the crisp morning air did little to clear the fog in her mind.

As she arrived at school, she found herself looking for Zoe as usual. Despite everything, the comfort of her friend's presence was something she always relied on. Zoe was waiting by the lockers, her expression distracted, almost as if she were deep in thought. "Hey," Y/n greeted her friend, trying to sound more upbeat than she felt. Subconsciously, she noticed that Connor wasn't with her, but she couldn't say she was surprised. The two never hang out with one another.

"Hi," Zoe replied, her voice hesitant, almost sheepish. She seemed to be bracing herself for something. "Uh... my brother wasn't too much of a handful last night, was he?"

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, Y/n wasn't sure how to respond. Zoe's tone made it clear that she didn't really want to know the answer, but the concern in her eyes was genuine. Y/n slowly shook her head, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Not really," she answered. In fact, despite his drunkenness, Connor was quite... sweet. But she kept that thought to herself. She knew better than to share this with Zoe, who had always been upfront about her complicated relationship with her brother. Any mention of Connor being anything other than standoffish, emotional, or rude would be met with skepticism if not outright dismissal.

So, Y/n swallowed her thoughts, deciding to keep her opinion to herself for now. There was no point in creating more tension, especially when Zoe was already on edge. "How is he?" Y/n asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. She wondered if Connor had even made it home last night.

Zoe shrugged, her expression unreadable. "Same old, same old," she replied, her voice flat. It was clear that Zoe wasn't interested in talking about her brother any more than she had to.

Y/n nodded, letting the conversation drift to safer topics, but her mind remained stubbornly fixed on Connor. She couldn't help but wonder where he was now, how he was feeling, and whether he remembered anything from the night before. The more she thought about it, the more this strange buzzing feeling stirred inside her—she found herself wanting to befriend Connor, to reach out and understand the person behind the troubled reputation. But the horror stories Zoe kept telling her played on a loop in her head, stories of his unpredictable temper, his outbursts, and his deep-seated anger. It made Y/n shiver just thinking about it.