Since You Left | Joe Sugg x Reader

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

I'll be back tonight, I have a few things to do. I love you, have a nice day.

-Y/N x

As I finish writing the note, I pop the lid back onto the black pen and lay it on top of the piece of A5 paper before jogging down to my car and turning on the radio. I'm going to see my parents. It's not something I thought I'd be doing today but if I want to change how my life is and how happy I truly am I guess I need to start now and what's the harm in some spontaneity? The drive lasts a few hours, it now being midday and I'm soon on the gravel drive in front of the red brick house belonging to my parents. I knock, feeling too uncomfortable to just walk in and soon my mums at the door.

"Hi." I smile nervously, looking up at her stone cold face.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, shock and confusion laced in with her icy tone, there's nothing pleasant about talking to my mum. She's judgemental and rude, with simply every conversation being about just her and her achievements. She's quite a successful woman in all honesty but it gets a little much when that's all she talks about. She's a lawyer and really takes the personality of someone obsessed with law. I remember growing up almost everything I did was wrong. Sometimes, I'd maybe spit out gum occasionally which I know is gross but I guess everyone is guilty of that at some point in their life; my mum gave me a strict talking to about how it's wrong. Just silly little things like that would be absurd in her eyes.

"I think it's time me, you and dad sat down and spoke." I smile ever so innocently, walking inside when she opens the door willingly for me. The house is immaculate like always, no speck of dust or dirt anywhere. And it spells like my childhood which is weird as that is not really a smell but somehow I can define this spell as that. When we reach the living room, my dad is sat down on the sofa, his ankle propped up onto his knee and his glasses low as he reads the newspaper, all concentration on that. But, his eyes slowly move up when my mum clears her throat signalling I'm here and he actually smiles. This is a rare occurrence. It's as rare as pigs flying, it just never happens. It's almost disturbing seeing the corners of his mouth curved up, as if it isn't natural, as if I don't see it on a daily basis. I guess it's just weird for me as my entire childhood was full of his frowns, no smile in sight. I'm just glad that gene didn't pass on.

"Y/N!" He smiles, getting up with a spring in his step and giving me a hug. A hug. Since when does that happen? I thought the smile was odd. "I wasn't expecting to see you anytime soon."

"I thought we should all talk."

"Yes! Your mother and I have been speaking about that recently. Isn't that right?" He says, pulling my mum in for a hug as well which is another rare occurrence. Yes, they're married and they live together but you would never see them make any contact. The most you'd ever see would be them accidentally brushing on each other's arms in the morning as they crossed passed in the crowded kitchen. I raise an eyebrow at his response, looking at their expressions. Why do they look happy?

"Okay, then," I say awkwardly, sitting down and beginning my unprepared chat. "Things haven't exactly been great, I'm sure we can all agree?" They both nod at this, sat together and actually listening to me. I have a good feeling about this.

Later that day, things are out in the open about how I feel with my parents and it couldn't have gone better. They smiled and took it with understanding. I don't know if someone's put them on some kind of pill but it's working and for once, I look at them as not just parents but my family. We had an open discussion. We explained and resolved problems I thought were long gone and buried in my repression graveyard. I feel as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I can breathe just a little more. But there's something else I want to do. Something else I never thought I'd think about or even say but for some reason, I want to. My next stop: Liam's house.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

This is something I keep reminding myself as I go to knock on the door but I keep chickening out. Liam genuinely scares me but I need answers. I need him to explain why he did what he did. Why he lied so much. Why he changed. I eventually knock, all force going into it as I push myself further than I ever thought I would. I'm left waiting, my heart being the only noise I can hear as it thuds against the inside of my chest, threatening to beat right about and land on the concrete floor that lays beneath my feet. The feeling in my stomach is horrendous, I feel as if it's been shoved into a cauldron for a witch to vigorously stir or maybe that it's just been put in a blender to be turned into mush. The sound of my heart beating is soon accompanied by feet tapping down the stairs. The stairs from inside the door. Which then leads to the red door opening, Liam standing right in front of me with messy hair and rough looking skin.

"Y/N!" He says in disbelief, I'm shocked myself, that I managed to even bring myself here. I stay silent, froze as I look at him, he looks normal. Normal as in he was never a psychotic asshole with the intention to kill Joe for me. "What are you doing here?" He asks, looking around as if he's looking for a camera or something.

"I need answers." I manage to spit out, doing the breathing thing I keep repeating in my head.

"What do you mean?"

"Answers, Liam. I need to know why you did what you did." I say, anger laced in with my tone.

"I don't think that's the best idea." He shakes his head, holding me up right as I begin to wobble about with the dizziness in my head getting the better of me. I shove him off, refusing to let his hands make any contact with me so I try to help myself by forcefully pushing myself up with the door frame.

"Liam. I need answers." I breathe out, closing my eyes when everything in front of me begins to spin.

"Y/N. Are you okay?"

"Yes!" I insist but my answer isn't completely backed up as I fall to the ground, my breathing becoming harder and harder.

"Look, you're clearly not." By this point, his words are barely audible. Everything is like a wave of colour which I'm unable to identify as an object. And soon, everything turns to black.