Disaster • Arctic Monkeys Fanfiction

[forty one]

Indi's POV

I woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming through the window and voices coming from downstairs. I rolled over and immediately reached for Alex.

But I was alone.

I sat up in the empty bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Where was he? Why had he left?

I pulled on his blue shirt and got up and groggily, walking to the bathroom down the hall. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, realizing that my toothbrush was the only one left in there.

What time was it?

I went to my room, fully intending on changing because my legs were fucking freezing, but upon seeing that Rose had already neatly packed up my suitcase and hers, I decided to just pull on my gray knee socks that were still slightly hanging out of my bag.

I would change later. Right now, I needed to get downstairs and find out where everyone was. Especially Alex.

I hurried down the stairs to see Rose and Matt in the kitchen, dancing around and sucking face without a care in the world. Jamie, Nick were moving in and out through the open door with bags, presumably packing the cars up.

No Alex.

The clock in the living room read 6:45 am.

Fuck.

Rose spotted me as Matt spun her around, laughing.

"Indi!" she called out. "You're finally awake."

"Hey," I said, my voice hoarse and rushed. "Where's Alex?"

Her and Matt exchanged a glance but neither of them said anything. For a moment I was sure that he'd left, but Jamie walked into the kitchen before that fear could deepen.

"He's outside," he said, grabbing a guitar case that was sitting on the counter. "Back deck."

I thanked Jamie and hurried outside. I didn't have any time to waste.

I found him exactly where Jamie said he'd be, on the back deck, leaning up against the wooden railing. He was facing away from me, watching the sun rise over the mountains with his chin in his hand.

"Hey," I said to him.

He didn't say anything. He didn't even turn around.

Alrighty, then.

I cleared my throat awkwardly, walking toward him. "Everything okay?"

He turned to face me then. His dark hair was messy and his face was still bruised from the club. It didn't look like he'd gotten much sleep, either.

He looked like a mess, staring back at me with the sun shining behind him. A beautiful fucking wreck.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I asked him, the frustration that we only had 15 minutes left finally catching up to me. "We don't have a lot of time left."

He shook his head slowly and turned back around without saying anything. I ached to know what he was thinking, and why he wasn't talking.

"Why are you being so quiet?" I asked, walking to the railing so that I was next to him.

He squinted out at the mountains. "You really have to ask that question?"

"You're leaving in fifteen minutes," I reminded him. "Why can't we be like Matt and Rose? They're making the most of their time, not sulking like they're in a Cymbalta commercial."