feelings || yungblud

chapter 3

"I TOLD YOU TO STOP DOING THIS DOMINIC, WHY WONT YOU LISTEN TO ME"

"DAD JUST PISS OFF, YOU'RE NEVER EVEN HOME WHY SHOULD  LISTEN TO YOU"

"dom darling, listen to your father, he works so we can have nice things, be grateful"

"grateful? for what? an absent father. who gives a shit about nice things when all i want is to be loved for gods sake"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

with all this shouting, i wake up and look over at the time, seeing its only 7am. why in their right mind would argue this early. just go back to bed and pipe down.

after sitting up in bed for a few minutes, i notice that the shouting had stopped luckily so i try and get some more sleep. but before i do that i hear a knocking coming from downstairs.

slipping on my dressing gown, i head down the stairs to the front door. maybe its my mum i think to myself, wondering whether her friends had to cancel today.

"im just coming, one second" i say, popping my slippers on.

i hear another round of knocking and this just annoys  me even more, seeing as i was rudely awoken by that dominic guy.

opening the door, i see him, dominic, the guy i least wanted to see.

"what do you want?" i ask, rolling my eyes.

"can i come in please?" he asks me, staring into my eyes as if he was trying to find something. i cant help but notice the hopelessness in his face.

as i cannot see feelings and emotions, these are the kind of things i pick up on. any normal person would just look at their feeling and just not even bother to actually look at the person. however i am different, i know that people think i am unreadable but if i can read others, why cant they read me. its more about effort in my opinion, if you dont even have the effort to try and understand how someone is feeling then dont even talk to them. its just plan rude.

"uh sure, i guess" i say and move myself to the left so he can enter on the right.

once he enters the house, i shut the door behind us and head to the kitchen for my coffee. first port of call every morning, always a coffee. "would you like one?" i ask dom, wafting my hand at the counter stools, insinuating for him to sit down.

"yeh sure, as long as it's no trouble" dom half smiles at me. something is definitely up. i can't help but feel for him, i often have the same expression.

while the coffee machine does its thing, i lean on the counter, trying to read doms face some more. i'm getting quite the hang of it. i've been doing so for 19 years after all. the smell of coffee soon fills the air and i place our cups onto coasters.

"so, why are you at my door at 7am? i assume that shouting was you guys. very rude if you ask me" i sass to him, no one gets to ruin my beauty sleep.

he takes a sip of the hot beverage, i can see the steam from here. "you kind of just answered your own question lay" dom smiles, not a lot, but it's there.

"it's layla to you, thankyou very much. but what happened? do you want to talk about it?" maybe i'm being too blunt, but this random bloke i met yesterday did just enter my home whilst i know nothing about him, what if he's a murderer or something.

"it's just my parents, they're so toxic all the time. all i want to do is make my music and relax. we've just moved house for the third time in the past 2 years. it really sucks.." for a split second, i could've sworn i saw something flash above his head. no that's stupid, i laugh to myself quietly. "and i can't help but feel that...are you laughing at me? what the hell layla"