A certain The 1975 song plays in the back of your mind. You knew it but couldn't quiet get the lyrics through your head. The blurred words become clear as you come to.
You look around, your vision focusing. You're in a small room, posters are plastered on all the walls. You sit up quickly, resulting in your head spinning. You squeezing your eyes shut, cursing to yourself.
"You ok, (Y/N)? That damn truck hit you pretty hard. So did that window." A voice says from your left.
Shaking your head, you look over at the person. "Wh-Who the....." You soon recognize the face of the guy sitting beside you.
You jump to your feet, reaching for your gun which isn't there. You stand there, feeling for a weapon but not finding anything but shorts and bare skin. You sigh heavily.
"Well, fuck you." You growl as you sit back down on the bed.
"Gladly," He replies. "But, that isn't a feasible response, sugar."
"I'm fine," you snap. "Can I just get my stuff back?" You sit there, not wanting to look at Wade.
"You need to get some rest first. Sleep and relaxing always helps." You hear him stand, his heavy footsteps walking around the twin sized bed. He appears in front you, squatting to look at your bent head.
You notice that he's in sweatpants and a T-shirt. You quickly look away so you don't look up at his brown eyes.
You didn't say anything to him, so instead you bite your lip.
