hostile//fillie

chapter thirteen.

a/n: hope you enjoy, babies 💕 as every other chapter, sorry if there's typos!
 
**millie's pov**

  The empty house causes a large amount of loneliness to feel like a thousand pounds pushing against the area of my chest, as I lay in my comfortable bed, snuggled up into footie pajamas that had little giraffes scattered access the arms and legs, all alone, completely by myself.

  I miss mum and dad.

They haven't even called me since they've left, and that was two days ago when they escaped in the middle of the night, without even physically hugging me goodbye.

    Their incompetence is emotionally taking its toll on me, more than usual.

   The sound of my soft cries echo through out the area of my quiet room, no other presence around, as I softly just let my internal emotions of despair exit out into the open.

   I grasp onto the fluffed white pillow out from underneath my neck and head, tucking it in between my forearms, as I bury my face into the softness to drown out the sounds of my cries.

  A tapping sound appears against the glass door of my balcony only a moment later, as I shoot my head up in retaliation, the mass of my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach in fear, the blurriness of my eyes not allowing me a clear view.

  Noah?

  He waves his hand side to side, while he wore black Adidas sweatpants, followed by a plain black t-shirt, his hair styled in its usual neat quiff, signaling for me to let him in, as I feel a massive wave of relief, realizing that an intruder wasn't standing on my balcony, and that in all actuality, it was a good friend.

   What on heavens is he doing here, when it's this late at night?

   I force myself to halt the useless tears, as I tiredly fling the warm covers off of my torso, the cool hardwood floor gliding against my plain white socks, walking towards the door to let him in.

"Hey, Mills!" He beams casually, entering inside, closing the door behind him, as if we weren't spontaneously greeting each other in the middle of the night, inside of my bedroom.

"Not to be rude, Noah, but why are you here? It's almost two in the morning." Stuffiness presents itself within my nostrils as I ask him the awaited question in confusion, before his facial expression drops sympathetically, like a light bulb went off in his head.

  "Wait, wait...are you crying?" He asks softly with a ton of concern laced within his voice, as the assumption causes my lip to quiver, the tears I'd tried so hard to rid returning to my eyes.

  For some reason, when someone asks me what's wrong, or if I'm crying, it makes me cry harder, or it makes me do it all over again.

  "Mills...what's wrong?" He asks cautiously, as I vigorously shake my head in response, losing it, weakly shuffling over back towards my bed to sit down.

  "I-I'm just sad, Noah. Please, you can leave, I don't want to make you uncomfo-" He instantly cuts off my desperate and tear filled pleas.

   "Stop it, Millie. You could never make me uncomfortable. Spit it out, say what's on your mind." He urges for me to express my internal sorrow, as I sniffle my nose again, trying to regain myself.