Mentally Challenged (Wrench x Schizophrenic!Reader)

«Chapter 2 - Stab to the heart»

Ding.

You instantly reply.

Ding.

There you go picking up your phone again.

Ding.

"(Y/n), could you stop?!" Your brother who is currently playing on your PlayStation yells, looking over his shoulder to glare at you.

You pick your eyes up from your phone screen and flip him off with your left hand. He pauses his game and stands from your tiny love-seat set in the middle of your living room. Ignoring the bitter expression on his face, you look back down at your phone and immediately grin from ear-to-ear.

"It's not my fault you came over to hang out," you shift your shoulders into a shrug.

Dylan steals your phone from between your fingers and starts to go through your texts, his eyebrows scrunching together. You blink and try to process what had happened in just two seconds, lips pursed into a thin line.

"Hey, give that back! That is not for you!" You jump up for your phone as he holds it in the air, watching you with a cocky smirk. Stupid boy. Cheeky, stupid boy.

"Who's Wrench? Is he your boyfriend?" He peers down into your face, still smirking.

"If he was, you would know, bastard. Now give me my phone." You hold out your hand with narrowed eyes.

"Only if you tell me who he is, then I might." Dylan waves the precious device around in the air, threatening to drop it.

"He's someone I met two or three days ago. We haven't stopping talking since seeing each other at the park. Now can I have my phone back?" If looks could kill, he would already be dead.

He gives a satisfying hum and drops your precious baby back into your palm that was held out to him. Like an angry cat, you growl and hiss, turning your back to him, and typing a reply to your friend who waited patiently on the other side of the screen. Dylan rummages through your fridge like a pig while your eyes light up like a child's on Christmas.

"Hey, Dylan, Wrench wants me to meet up with him. When I get back, you better be gone and out of my apartment." You playfully glare at him, acting like the spat you two had earlier didn't even happen.

"Can I come with you?" He closes your fridge, giving the puppy eyes.

"No," and with that, you open your apartment door and walk out with a prideful smile, only for it to falter into a deep frown.

You wished he would stop treating you like an ill, up to no good little kid. You're almost twenty three and he treats you like you're five. Bad thing is, you're older than him by two years, but he still acts like he owns everybody.

He's probably one of the reasons the night terrors never cease to fade away.

***

Wrench sat in your usual corner booth, staring out of the window like you usually do. Marcus offered to come but was rejected and left alone at the HackerSpace. The wing-man did his job and now it's time for Wrench to do his part and actually get you to like him. Someway, somehow, he was going to make it happen.

The café bell jingles and the top half of his body shoots up from his bent-over-the-table position. When seeing you wave and walk over to the booth, his eyes flash into those cute, happy looking ones. You slide into the opposite side of the booth from his and clasp your hands together.

"Nice to see you again, Wrench." He corners of your lips curve into a joyful smile.

"You act as if we haven't been talking to each other for days..." He whines, laying his head on the table.