P E R F E C T
07:39 a.m.
8 December 2015
A glamorous shade of red coated the sky, specked with dots of black. The Sun was setting, spreading a dark hue across the walls of houses, yet the wintry chill of Manhattan refused to subside. It was the harsh cold days, snow could be found across the sidewalks with people treading over it as if it didn't matter.
Rory was pissed mixed with different levels of annoyance, and various levels of guilt. She had hated to admit that Pretty Boy's absence had meant something to her. It had been all so simple when she had hated him simply or had been annoyed at the fact that he came and shared her roof.
She had been accustomed to the emptiness, hatred for everyone. So how did Sebastian King wriggle his way into her life, was beyond her. All she understood was that she missed him when she shouldn't have even cared about him. She was a chaos; a disaster.
The girl took another drag of the cigarette. She blew the smoke, promising herself that she wouldn't care about Pretty Boy. If he doesn't want to show up, she would let him be. Her finger pressed the volume button on her iPod, making Halsey's voice rebound in her head. Head nodding on beat to the rhythm, feet tapping to the rhythm. She felt free. Music had been her escape since the time she could remember. It made everything bearable, better; just what she needed.
"And it's blue, and it's blue," Rory sung alongside in her off-tune voice.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you have a pathetic voice?" A voice called out.
The girl groaned, "it's you, isn't it, Pretty Boy?" How was she missing him a couple of minutes back, was now beyond her.
"Shut up. You love me."
She could hear the smirk in his voice. She tugged her earplugs, her comfortable void gone for a better happier void. And he made that. She needed to be careful, the girl knew that, but this feeling of carelessness was too comfortable.
"Sure, mate, sure. While we are at that Voldemort was a saint also, huh?"
"Oh, c'mon. Why so passive aggressive? You know I only love you," Sebastian smirked again, holding his hands up, sarcasm flowing from him.
"I'm giving you ten seconds, Pretty Boy, run."
"Or is lil' SpongeBob SquarePants going to hurt me?"
"You know what? Fuck it. You'd faint if I punched you, and I'm a nice person to a certain degree."
"Are you sure about either of them?" He grinned.
"Pretty damn sure. Besides your pussy ass self won't be able to handle that punch." It was now her turn to smirk; she knew Pretty Boy won't be able to take a shot at his ego. And it was going to be fun.
He narrowed his eyes, "Are you challenging me?"
"No. I'm just telling you shit how it is, mate."
"You know what? Punch me."
Ha! I knew it. This is going to be interesting.
"With pleasure," Rory swiftly walked up to him her fingers locking into a fist and swiftly punched him in the gut. The next second seemed to happen in slow motion with Pretty Boy falling onto the ground; hands clutching his gut. His white hair spread messily over the floor, legs spread and face down.
Sebastian King had just fainted, and Rory Sandsburg was panicking.
"Pretty Boy, you okay?" She poked him.
No response. "Are you okay?" She poked him, again; still no response.
Three times the charm, right? She weakly tried to convince herself.
Poke. No response.
Okay, panic please?
"Holy fuck, Seb, did you actually faint? I didn't even hit you that hard. Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Wait, no I'm not sorry. You deserved that, you're an asshole. But I'll share the roof with you if you wake up. Fuck, I don't want to go to ja –"
The white haired boy erupted in laughter, unable to keep his face straight. Rory was the most absurd girl he had ever met. One moment she could be all badass and next second she'd be panicking like a headless chicken.
It was cute. Until he noticed her reaction, with her eyes narrowed and mouth pursued – she looked pissed. Very pissed.
"I THOUGHT I HAD KILLED YOU, YOU FUCKING POTATO SANDWICH!" She shouted angrily. She knew she was being irrational but how could he do that? She thought she was going to jail but no he was goofing around.
"Potato sandwich? Seriously?" he knew she was pissed, yet he could stop that smile on his face. Who even used potato sandwich as an insult?
"Bye," Rory started heading towards the door leading outside the roof. She was done with his crap for today.
"Hey, Rory, c'mon, at least help me up! The punch hurt, you know?" He hobbled besides her, his hand nursing the bruised region.
She wasn't kidding about her knowing how to punch though. Overbearing ego issues and wanting to challenge Rory do not mix.
"Good. You fully deserved it now." A smile slipped onto her face.
"You sadist, you're smiling at that. You're supposed to act all sappy and ask to check the bruised area while saying sorry and shit." He frowned.
"I would have but first off, this isn't a cliché romance novel; secondly, you deserved it; thirdly, I don't do sappy. So Sebby Boy, you are better off not cribbing."
"You are something else, Rory Sandsburg."
"I know that, Sebby Boy."
"I don't know if that was a compliment. And, wow, this is a better nickname."
"I'll take it as one, Pretty Boy."
"And the dreaded nickname comes back."
"You'll love it eventually"
"I don't like you, Roofy."
The streetlights were on now, the sky now as black as black hole seemed to suck everything. There were no stars, but the crowd of Manhattan like those two teenagers on the roof didn't care; each for their own reason.
The insomniacs didn't notice how soon the night changed colors to those of the day, both wrapped in their warm cloud of talks, dreams and insults, where everything seemed
p e r f e c t .
*
{A/N: Almost thought about discontinuing it, but unfortunately Ashwin16 can be quite persuasive, so here we are. Are you happy now? xD }
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Roofies
Historia Corta"People who share the same roof are called Roofies. Singular form: Roofy," She did a small nod at the end as if approving her logic. "You do know it's a drug, right," He questioned, perplexed with her need to give them a name. They were barely ac...
