o n e / s c r a p s

                                    

                                          
Bernadette Windsor
"Psst, Julian! Jule. Wake up, we're going out." 
"Golds? Birdie? The fuck?" 
I hold back a laugh as Jule awakes, groggy and dazed as ever. Marigold stands over him, her phone flashlight shining at his face.
"Get up and get dressed. Me and Birdie wanna go to Scraps. Alaric's waiting in the car."
"What?" Jule asks, lazily lifting a hand to block the light. Slowly, he rolls over, grabbing his phone from the charger. "Guys, it's one in the fucking morning. Get out. How'd you even get in?" 
Before we can respond, we hear footsteps bounding up the stairs behind us. Alaric sticks his head through the door frame. 
"You guys coming or what?" He asks, tapping a finger impatiently against the door, "I've been outside for ten minutes."
"The hell you mean ten minutes? They just woke me up, man." Julian questions. He then raises his brows, giving us a pointed look. "Where's Casper?"
I shoot Golds a sly grin, "He's fine. All fed, sleeping, and happy on treats." 
Jule rolls his eyes, "I swear to god you guys only hang out with me for my dog." 
Marigold pats his cheek. "Aww, you know that's not totally true."
"Well, let's hurry this party up. I need gas before we head to Scraps." Alaric mentions. He makes eye contact with me, nodding me over with his head. "Me and Bernadette will be out in the car."
"Impromptu make-out session, Marigold?" Jules flirts, giving her a smirk and a kissy face. 
"I'm going to control myself and not slap you right now." Goldie retorts, flipping him off before waving us bye.
"Why am I coming with you?" I ask Alaric, trying to keep my balance as we descend side by side down the narrow stairs. 
He shrugs, pulling the front door open. "Julian likes Marigold, and I want him to stop fucking whining over her. I'm just giving him a chance alone with her."
It really was no secret that Jule was love struck when it came to her. Marigold was just either too stubborn or too blind to notice his 'moves'. Anytime I brought him up romantically to her, she pretended to gag herself. 
"How uncharacteristically nice of you." 
"I'm nice to my friends."
"You're not nice to me."
"It's you." 
I roll my eyes, pulling open the car door. "What's that supposed to mean?" 
"Nothing you're not smart enough to figure out yourself, Bernadette." He tuts with what I'm going to pretend is a small grin on his face and not a blank line.
"Rude ass, and don't call me that." I huff, taking it upon myself to prop my feet on the dash and crank the music up.
I nod my head along to the music, staring at Alaric through the side of my eye. The sketchbook tattoos that littered his arms were prominent in the dim car light, and his messy brown hair strung over his face. He was on his phone, scrolling aimlessly against a dark screen in a weak attempt to ignore my presence.