Telltale ~ Liam Gallagher

AUGUST 2001 - CONT

"So we're just attracted to each other then? Physically?" I blurt out without really thinking it through first - but that's exactly what we are, physically attracted to each other. It doesn't go any deeper than that.

He pauses and shuffles on his feet, a habit he has had ever since I met him. "Yeah. I guess that's what it is." He sighs with agitation, taking the towel from my hands and finishing off the drying up.

I let him and watch. Watching his hands manoeuvre around the plates and forks, polishing the silver as he does so. He's got nice hands; surprising for a musician who would be expected to have hands covered in hard calluses, but not Liam. Completely smooth and well-kept. The upside to being a lazy sod who refuses to learn the guitar.

"Stop watchin' me Penny," he mumbles, "you're putting me off." It's a half-hearted sentence. No real truth. And before long the soap smothered tea towel has been abandoned on the kitchen tiles, his hands are running through my hair and I'm left thinking, that maybe we're not just friends anymore.

////

I wake up tangled in twisted bed sheets, the sun peaking through the blinds.

My crutches are propped up on the wall next to me, my bad leg stiff as ever.

I prop myself up some pillows and turn to my left, expecting to see Liam asleep next to me.

But he's gone, only the sickly scent of his cigarettes to confirm that he was ever here.

I'm not surprised. I'm not upset. All I feel is the same old self-depreciating stupidity; the man is in a relationship, and here I am jumping into bed with him. Originally I vowed to myself that I would never speak to him again, constantly reminding myself of the poisonous lies he kept feeding me. And now, I've fucked him. Contradicting my own morals. I'm nothing but a hypocrite.

Eight AM. No shift today. No shift until I get this bloody cast off my leg. Just another day of nothing. 

When you're a kid, sick days are the equivalent of Christmas. Staying in bed, watching cartoons, eating crappy food. The shit. But when you get to adulthood sick days are worse than working an 8-hour shift, on a Saturday, in a full of restaurant screaming children.

Clambering out of bed, I fumble for my crutches (my new best friends) and start towards the door when I feel something crispy beneath my not-fucked-leg. 

Paper. 

A warm sense of nostalgia sweeps over me, knowing exactly what this is before I've even looked at it. A note. From Liam. Just like the ones he used to write me when life was simpler and less... catastrophic. 

THINGS LIAM IS NOT ALLOWED TO SAY:

- that despite Penny having a screwed-up leg (which Liam takes full responsibility for by the way) she was remarkably good in bed.

I actually find myself laughing; re-reading the note over and over in sheer relief that he hadn't just walked out and left me. This notes proves that at least one  small brain cell of his was thinking of me. And that's enough to put a smile on my face.

I flip the note over in my hands, brushing my fingertips across the creased paper. In tiny letters at the bottom of the paper is scrawled a small message. If I hadn't inherited my mother's amazing eyesight I wouldn't have the slightest chance of deciphering what it says, but I can just about read the words:

Pack a bag :)

A/N: Just a short one today guys! But don't panic! Another part will be coming soon. If you've read my little message I posted a couple of days ago, I've been swarmed with work these past few days so have struggled to find the time to even contemplate logging onto Wattpad, let alone writing a part! I'm super excited as to where this book is going - hence the little cliffhanger ;) - and I hope you guys are enjoying it xx