Intersect. [MH] (Editing in Process)

But The Rain Never Came, So I Made With The Sun.

CW: Mention of drug use.
Matthew.

It didn't come as a surprise to me when I woke up in the middle of the night to my phone repeatedly buzzing on the bedside table, what did come as a surprise was that it wasn't Archer who rang me; it was Annie.

"Hello?" I mumbled groggily into the receiver. Definitely not a morning person, granted, it was only half five.

Annie sounded panicked,

"I'm sorry for calling so early, I just wasn't sure of who else to call." I sat up, pushing my comforter off of me and flicking my lamp on. I reached for my glasses and waited for her to continue on,

"I can't find Archer."

That was the opposite of what I'd wanted to hear, but I knew it was coming nevertheless. As soon as the words left her mouth; I took it as my cue to rush out of bed and wake George up. "When was the last time you saw her? Did she seem off or something?" The phone was secured between my shoulder and my ear as I swung his bedroom door open, not bothering to knock – it was dark, obviously.

Annie hummed nervously over the receiver,

"We talked when she got in, she seemed alright, nothing out of the ordinary. She did say something about London but I wasn't paying too much attention, homework."

I sighed, rolling my shoulders back and switching the awfully bright incandescent overhead light on,

"I'll ring you in about an hour, alright? George and I are going to stalk around for a bit, see if we can find her."

Her uneasy silence filled me with my very own anxiety and I wasn't quite sure how to go about dealing with it. I had to be the responsible one in this situation,

"Alright. Just- message me or whatever as soon as you find her, she's my only sister, Matty."

I nodded, fully aware that she wasn't capable of seeing me through the phone; force of habit, I guess. "Don't worry, hang tight." Annie said goodbye before hanging up the phone and reminded me three separate times to contact her once I'd found Archer, I agreed.

Shoving my phone in my pocket turned out to be rather difficult when I was in a hurry. I shook George awake,

"Mate, wake up."

"Fuck off." I nudged him further,

"George, wake the fuck up and get out of your god-damned bed, we need to look for Archer."

After a few more minutes of persistent pleas –more demands– I managed to get him out of bed and ushered him to put a coat on, it was pouring rain after all. A gloomy morning to go hand in hand with a complete drag of a situation. George mumbled incoherently, shrugging on a jacket and stepping into his tattered sneakers – I did the same, only with my Martens. There was no way I'd risk wearing any other pair of shoes in the horrible weather; it was as if the sky knew exactly what was going on.

George turned to me once we were in the car. It was barely six o'clock,

"I hate to say this, mate, the girl's lovely and she's got great tits-" I glared at him, "-but I'm starting to think she's more trouble than she's worth."