hostile//fillie

chapter sixteen.

a/n: truly sorry if this is sucky, and if there are typos. today has been long, and my brain is slacking ❤️

Really hope you angels enjoy!

**millie's pov**

  My priorly trembling body, due to the fact that I momentarily believed that there was an unknown person sat within the vicinity of my home, as I dip into the soft cushion of my neatly made up bed, lifelessly staring up at the dimly lit ceiling in which the moonlight could shine against, somehow, just nonchalantly ignoring the fact that Finn is literally sleeping inside of my residence, at this very moment.

     Is he really homeless, like Iris theorized the day that we sat on my bed. after coming to found out that he was going to work for my mom, inside of the kitchen?

A soft distraught sigh escapes my lips, very torn between whether or not to confront what he's doing, or to just keep quiet about my hidden findings.

   Why is he discreetly hiding away in one of my abandoned guest bedrooms?

     You'd think that my home out of all homes would be one of his absolute last resorts, since he hates my guts, and I hate his.

Why isn't he at his own home, if he even has one?

       That rock of culpability rests at the bottom of my stomach, as I sloppily turn onto my side, facing the pretty, and fluorescent moonlight shining against the balcony glass door, attempting to become comfortable, little swollen goosebumps appearing against the skin of my arms because of my chilly damp hair strands, the large pink and white comforter tightly tucked underneath my lower torso.

  Even though I hate Finn's existence with a burning passion, and even though a very small region of me is infuriatingly bewildered at his deception of just strolling into my own home, as if it were his own; I still somehow, abruptly, after everything that's occurred, feel a very deep sense of empathy for him.

  Why else would he be staying here in secrecy, if there was another place that he could call home, or even just a place to stay at?

    There has to be something negative going on inside of his life.

There has to be.

    I've only seen him wear two whole different outfits, ever since I've initially spoken to him.

   The holes in the same pair of black sneakers that he always wears, looks as though they are about to combust.

Everyone says that he digs in the trash, with that adorable dog right by his side.

       He's less fortunate.

And I'm all of a sudden, finally realizing that aspect of him, that single handedly and only comes to prevail, other than his hostility.

    The bad conscious of that unfamiliar rock multiplies in size, as I can't help but feel extremely guilty about everything that I have said and done to him, unenlightened of the extent of his personal life.

  But, he's been cruel to me, any chance that he's gotten.

I'm not completely at fault, regarding our mutual rivalry.