Eventually

Chapter Two

A.N. THE SECOND CHAPTER YAY! Tbf I'm happy to be writing comedy again. It flows out of me like piss, like I never stopped being a funny cunt.

I've cast Arthur Valgari (also known as baby/daddy bear) as the spicy Joe Jonas. I've been obsessed with Nick for too long I thought it was about time I cast the other one. (I'll never cast Kevin don't worry).

Chapter Two

June 7th 1999 - Arthur Valgari

He moved a lot in his sleep. It used to be really annoying, but I'd gotten so used to it by this point that I didn't particularly mind it anymore. I kind of liked it, really, as opposed to complete stillness. It was usually just a quick spasm in his legs, and sometimes he'd move his arms or rub his face deeper into my back. I'd only noticed it sometimes, and I'd grown comfortable with it.

Sometimes, when I slept alone (which was only when Freddie's mum wouldn't sleep with him, or when he had a girlfriend) I'd get really freaked out that my bed was so still. I guess I'd grown so used to him beside me when I slept that it felt odd when he wasn't there, like there was a space that needed to be filled on the mattress beside me. And sometimes, I became so worried about him that I couldn't even sleep on my own. I guess Freddie's insomnia had rubbed off on me a little over the years.

I'd slept a good few hours that night, though, but now it was morning, and I had to get him up and dressed for school. I turned, slowly slipping out of Freddie's arms, and grabbed a pair of joggers from the floor. "Freddie, get up," I said loudly, shaking him. "School."

"Five more minutes," he begged, turning over.

"Now you know how I feel every night you barge in here," I told him, ripping the quilt off of him and throwing it onto the floor. He shot up, giving me a deathly glare, and stropped, crossing his arms.

"I don't like you," he said sulkily.

"The feeling's mutual, cunt, now hurry up, I'm meeting Alissa before school," I told him, grabbing at his feet and pulling them to the edge of the bed.

"I don't like her, either," he skulked.

"You don't like anyone," I relayed. "Especially my girlfriends."

"Not true," he told me. "I like you."

"Ah, but you just said you didn't," I replied matter-of-factly.

"A girl can change her mind."

"Shame you're a dude, now come on, I haven't got all day. She'll be waiting. Put these on," I said, shoving a set of fresh clothes I'd quickly grabbed out of my wardrobe onto his lap. While I was there, I'd grabbed a t-shirt for myself and tossed it on without much thought.

"Why do you always date mean people?" he asked, getting changed. I turned my back to him to give him some privacy for once.

"Why do you always hate my girlfriends? Alissa's cool, and the sex is great," I admitted, and it was no word of a lie. That girl was talented with her mouth, tongue, fingers, toes, everything. It was like she knew how to perfectly control her body. Plus, she liked it rough, which is always a step up from normal basic slags that think their vagina alone is enough.

Trust me, babe, vagina never enough.

He tutted. "It isn't all about sex, you know, Arthur," I heard him say.

"No, but sex is a pretty big part, especially when they're hot. And she's hot. Definitely hotter than Amber Bambrough," I had to admit. Really, anything was better than Amber Bambrough. She was a total back-stabbing, two-timing bitch, and I don't have time for cheaters, or school-girls who cheat on me with married men in their thirties.