Friends

Part 5

You sit across from Devin, your legs crossed beneath the table as you nursed your coffee.

You giggle at the story he's telling you about his time on tour, his long jacket wrapped around his slim body; he looked really nice, and he smelled good too, whatever cologne he was wearing.

He'd been nice enough to buy your coffee for you, insisting since he'd invited you out, and now the two of you sat at a table by the window, catching up with each other.

You were glad you'd dressed decently when you'd left your room this morning to see how he'd been dressed, the two of you leaving the apartment bundled up for the cold. Devin had said something to the guys as the two of you had left, but you hadn't been able to catch it.

You'd noticed Chris on the couch, but had chosen to ignore him completely.

"Selfie with me!" Devin suddenly urges, and you huff, shaking your head.

"Not today, Dev, I -."

"Aww, c'mon," he whines, playfully tugging on your hand before forcefully, and loudly, dragging your chair until you were beside his. He clasps his fingers tightly through yours as you reluctantly lean against his shoulder, forcing a smile at the camera as he snapped several different photos and angles, the both of you deciding on your favorite one.

"Perfect!" he grins, and you notice that he doesn't remove his hand from yours as the two of you sit there.

Um?

You tug it from his, using the excuse you were reaching for your coffee across the table.

"So," Devin begins typing furiously on his phone, "why are you so pissy with Chris?"

There it was.

You give a sigh. "I'm not meaning to be."

"Did he do something stupid?"

"It wasn't his fault, I overreacted over something last night and... and it just ended badly," you mutter, twisting your coffee between your fingers. "I just need to get over it."

"What was it?" Could Devin sound anymore curious?

"Nothing important that concerns anyone." It was none of his business and from your tone he knew that.

You were a private person, you didn't like everyone knowing your business; if Ricky had never asked, you doubt you ever would have said anything about you and your ex breaking up.

You didn't want the pity party, or feel like you were searching for attention when you weren't. Maybe your privacy was one of the reasons you'd never shared your feelings as well.

You digress.

And it wasn't like it mattered, Chris obviously didn't share Them.

You weren't his type anyway.

No tats, no major piercings... the only real black you owned was more for partying or funerals rather then every day, and though you liked his music, it wasn't what you listened too regularly.

You were too different.

He needed someone who shared his interests, and so did you.

Someone like your ex...

But the entire world had seen how that had worked out.

You broodingly twist your coffee between your hands, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket. You fish it out, frowning at the unfamiliar number before reading the text with a sigh.

Devins number was the only one you officially had. For some reason the rest of the band did have your number, though, and you had all of theirs from where they'd all texted you lists of what they wanted from the store, you'd just never saved them because you didn't know who was who.