No Pills

Do dragons forgive

*Charlie's P.O.V *

The guys decided to convene at a pizza place near my school at six o clock, so I rise at three in the morning.

After waking Sydney, I get dressed and inspect the essentials in my travel backpack. We set off half an hour later.

I'm surprised to meet Nat seated in the almost empty food joint when I arrive. Nervously joining him in the booth, I greet him while his jaw drops.

"What the bloody hell?" Nat rubs his temple. "It's always the quiet ones. How are you pairing a baby pink ..." He pauses to check something on his phone, then bursts, "Oh my days, a bloody baby pink lapel double necked crossbody buttoned shirt with white shorts like a bloody royal and a-a bloody gold chain and bouncy hair and like, so early in the morning?! Look at my hair! I tried to dye it blond, and now look. It looks like shit!"

I'm too lost to flinch. "It's not ... unsightly?"

Twelve minutes later, the door opens, and a now black-haired Leo drags in a suitcase and two duffel bags.

"It's Roon," he grunts at the suitcase, then halts, regarding me with raised brows.

He blinks. "You look ... good."

When Rooney and Marvin enter with similar reactions, I schedule a scolding for Harry in my head; he lied about this outfit being dull.

Leo asks Marvin for the keys to pack the luggage in the boot. The latter goes to the counter for food, although only two workers are available. Roon sits beside Nat, so Marv can later engulf all the space beside me.

"They've got hot chocolate. Plus bacon and toast."

"I want." Roon raises his hand. Nat too.

But as soon as Leo returns, he says, "We'll make a pitstop."

"Nah, I want hot choco." Roon smiles at me."You too, right?"

My gaze darts to Leo, but he's too busy squeezing between Roon and Nat.

"Ok, hot chocolate, it is." Marvin rises.

My ribs involuntarily ease into our side of the booth, making Nat chuckle, "He was he sitting on you, innit?"

"What's with that accent?" Roon grimaces.

"What accent?" He drops his phoney accent instantly.

Leo rolls his eyes and climbs over the booth. "I'm gonna use the washroom," he says, side-glancing at me in a way that prompts me to join him.

*

But do I just follow him like some sheep? No, I take my sweet time. When I finally reach the restroom, he turns to me and whispers, "Shush, ok?"

"Pardon?"

"I said shush."

"Please be more polite."

Rolling his eyes to that, he gets off the mop bucket he is stepping on to look through an elevated window.

My brow cocks."What are you doing?"

"Jumping out!" He sounds like he just got a new toy. "Let's go."

"No, thanks. My shorts will get dirty."

He huffs, then takes his spray-painted oversized hoodie off so fast that he exposes his packs in the process. I cringe as he wraps it around me.

"Your sweat."

"Yes, it smells better than cologne." He smirks.

"And the others, wha-" I forget my question because he tiptoes on the turned bucket and whisper-shouts, "- A little help here."