She hammered on the entrance to flat B with a fist that might as well have been a club of polished hardwood.
The door was wrenched open immediately, as if it were being thrown off its frame.
"He's not home, fuck off".
"Since when the hell do you talk to me like that?"
"Since she/he/they left".
"Your fault, asshole, not mine".
"Did you just come here to gloat that you didn't drive the person you love away, or what?"
"No, actually, I came to give you some friendly advice, mate".
"Yeah?"
"Yeah". She crossed her arms. "The nice Italian downstairs is raising my rent in twelve days".
She half-threw, half-pushed a bundle of f/c cotton into the curly-haired boy's arms. He clasped it to his chest, lifted the soft material and its sweet aroma to his face without a second thought. "Reminisce another time, lover boy. For now, you've got twelve fucking days to get her/him/them back. And then the days will have been a hundred".
The air in the hall was thinner than at the peak of a mountain.
"A hundred days, and you can't take it back".
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A Hundred Days | Dan Howell x Reader
Fanfiction"A hundred days..." "And you can't take it back". ♤ When Y/N decides it's time for a change of scenery, she/he/they head/s to the luminescent London to chase her/his/their dreams. However, without a plan, how can anything go to one? And while Y/N...
