Thinking Teal (Wentworth Fanfiction)

.:Chapter 20:.

    "You have to be kidding, right?" Nicky's voice shook as she spoke over the phone, her hands motioning wildly as her short, red hair waved. I dry the wet strands of hair from my head with my towel, wearing a tank and baggy pants as I watch her scream from the dining room.

   "Nick? You alright?" I shout, only to have her index finger erected at me. "All right." I mumble with a smile, walking to the lounge to plant onto the couch. I have five hours until work, and it isn't like me to be 'fashionably early".

   "No, Eric, you tell the head man to get off his high horse and help me! Understand!" and with that, you could hear the smash of her phone against the lino flooring. I whizz around to her, her soft hands planted onto her mouth. My head cocks with a sigh, looking her up and down until her focus was on me. I close my eyes before pointing to the now dead phone.

   "I'll.. Clean it up." I sigh, opening my eyes as I launched myself off the couch.

   "No, Lilah, I'll do it-" she  muttered before lowering her hands to her sides. I grabbed both her hands in one hand before cupping her mouth in the other.

   "I insist." I tease, raising my eyebrow. She sighed delicately before looking away, taking her hands from my grasp as she raised them like a Praying Mantis to her chest.

   "Whatever you say." she smiled, meeting my gaze again before a quick kiss was planted on my lips. "Anyway! My shower time! Go get ready!" she said quite loudly before pushing me away, leaving me stumbling slightly. She somewhat sprinted off toward the bathroom, leaving me to blankly stare at her. She turned around, reaching for the balled doorknob as she raised her hand to her face, almost like she forgot something. "You taste different?"

   I gave a small smirk, looking her up and down once again. "New chapstick." I respond.

   "Chapstick has shards of glass in it, which makes your lips more chapped, which makes you buy more-"

   "Okay, enough Conspiracies for today." I laugh, walking toward the material cupboard down the hall between rooms and the kitchen.

   "But it's only eight!" she shouted back, her clear, American accent peeping through.

   "More of a reason to quit while you're ahead!" I shout back, standing in front of the white closet. I yank open one of the doors, a mop, broom and dust pan and brush hung on this side. I grab the dark coloured dust pan and brush, closing the cupboard as I returned to the phone. As I knelt down, turns out there was only a few shards of glass scattered delicately, the phone largely cracked but fixable. I pick up the broken phone, holding it both sides as I press on the 'on' button, viewing the phone turning on, an old-fashion relationship photo of Nicky and I popped up. A small smile escaped my lips before shoving it into my pocket. I took the brush from the pan as I began sweeping up the glass. It'd only been a few days since Nicky got together, but we've dating one other time and known each other for over twenty years, so in my head, this seems natural. My head shot up, looking straight down the corridor to the front door as it opened. I stood up, putting the pan next to the table as the door slowly open. I look around for a weapon, although handled none. I'm going to die.

   As the door creaked open fully, I made my way down the hall toward the being behind it, hoping it to be a mass murderer shooting up the apartment complex or something. Give me something to survive and brag about it to the people back at Wentworth. Oh wait. You can't buy guns in Australia. Nevermind then.

   To my surprise, or not, Francesca Rose Doyle's head popped through, her hair in a pony tail, except some small strands that fell from the rose of her head. She gave me a smile before creeping all the way in, closing the door.