Ex (a Pesy story)

it's different and we're not the same

A/N: A Pesy story loosely inspired by the Kiana Ledé song "Ex." It was meant to be a one shot, but it got a bit out of hand🤷🏼 Sorry not Sorry. Will likely be 3-4 parts. Hope you enjoy!

Wait! I feel like this one needs a bit of a warning?? It's not smut, but I also don't want any of my family members or close friends to ever read it, if that makes sense. It's like pg-13. Well, maybe 14. 15? Idk, read at your own risk.
Okay cool.
Enjoy!
xx

Thursday

I'm on my couch, wrapped snugly in a blanket and sipping on the dregs of a vodka soda, quietly watching the third episode of Killing Eve, when I'm startled by a manic rapping on my door. I spill a bit of my drink on myself, but quickly bat it away, hurriedly setting the glass on the coffee table as I rush to the door. A quick glance at the oven clock as I pass tells me that it's half past midnight, too late for anyone to be knocking with this amount of fervor for anything short of a major emergency. I'm worrying myself sick on the short walk to the door. Car Accident, Burglary, Alien Invasion-

When I finally throw the door open, it's none of the above. She waltzes right past me, mumbling on about something, not making loads of sense. Not knowing what else to do I follow her back into my house, pulling the blanket around me tighter.

"-m sorry, Jes, where you asleep?" She asks, finally looking at me.

"Nah, I was just watching a bit of telly," I say carefully, gesturing to the glass on my coffee table and the paused TV.

"Oh," she says.

We just stand there a few moments, staring at one another.

"Pez, why are you here?" I finally ask.

She stops looking at me and starts mumbling once again.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come, I'll just go-"

"Perrie," I say, grabbing her shoulders and giving them a shake. "What's going on?"

Her eyes meet mine again, her mouth moving but no sound coming out.

"Do you want to watch TV with me?" I ask. I don't know how to deal with whatever's happening right now, so I figure a bit of procrastination can't hurt.

"Uh, yeah," she answers, clearly a little confused, but I don't think she knows what to do either.

She makes no move toward the couch.

"Do you want a drink?" I ask, gesturing to the liquor on the counter. "I'd just planned on having a little nightcap and going to bed, but I'm not really tired, so I'm gonna have another. Would you like one?"

"What are you drinking?" She asks, and for the first time since she arrived, she sounds like herself.

"Vodka soda. Or I was thinking maybe Gin and tonic this round. Gin's got less calories," I say with a smile.

"Has it really?" She asks, looking amused.

"I haven't got a clue," I laugh. "Someone told me once, and I've never bothered to check."

"I could google it now," she says, already pulling out her phone.

"Now where's the fun in that?" I ask.

"Wouldn't you rather just know?" She asks incredulously.

"Nah, I like a bit of mystery," I say, shooting her a wink.

"You absolute dork," she says, laughing.

I just smile, happy to have made her happy, even if it's only temporarily.