"Wake up, asshole" I hear first thing as I get kicked at the same time. I slightly open my eyes, catching a glimpse of someone walking away and Isa looking at her. It's definitely Olive.
I push myself off the ground, my neck hurting quite a lot as I move it from my terrible position. I don't think sleeping out in the hallway of my — let's call it, ex-girlfriend,was a good idea.
Isa turns around and looks down at me. "What have you done?" She sighs, her lips pressed together and raising an eyebrow at me.
I just woke up from a not very sleepy sleep. I should at least get ten minutes of peace before all the drama starts.
My silence is an answer as she bends down, giving me a hand. With her help, I stand up, feeling my whole body numb and hurting.
"Come on." She leads me into Liv's apartment. I don't think she'd want me inside her house while she's out, and I'm not breaking her privacy.
I open my mouth to speak but my little sister beats me to it. "She told me to let you in." She answers my concerns.
And so, I follow her in. I haven't actually seen the apartment apart from the doorway last night. I wasn't exactly invited to the house warming party.
Looking around with my eyes, scanning the apartment, it's the exact same as Pablo's, she's just decorated differently.
"So," Isa starts up, as we enter the living room. "What happened last night?" She questions, straight to the point, making herself comfortable on the couch.
I don't answer immediately, taking a few moments to clear my mind a little. I just take a quick tour around the room, letting my legs work properly.
When I finally sit down and join Isa on the couch, I notice a bunch of printed pictures underneath the tv on the console table.
My curiosity gets the best of me and I stand back up to see what they are. There's over fifty pictures, as I search through them I get that they're from her past, recognizing her younger self.
How the hell could her dimples be even deeper back then?
Isabel doesn't say anything as she sits behind and watches me.
There's one picture with her and her dad, him wearing a Barcelona jersey and her over his shoulders, giggling. The date is written underneath in orange, 27/05/2009, a date I recognize.
The day Barcelona won the 2008/2009 Champions League. Woah. Her dad really had been with us forever.
I'm about to go back to Isabel and stop searching through them, but then another one catches my attention. I find myself reaching for it.
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