My Badboy Fairytale {Justin Bieber} [Sequel to He's Just...Different]

Chapter 32 - 'Four A.M'

Chapter Thirty-Two 

- Justin's POV -

As I stared into the blank darkness, I still felt my headache coming on strong. In the back of my mind I knew I shouldn't have drank as much as I did, but fuck, at this point, I really did not care. Two sudden knocks startled me and before I could respond, the door to my room was opening. Lynn. 

"I brought you some ibuprofen," she said monotonously, not bothering to look me in the eyes. I tensed up at the sight of her. She was beginning to walk out of the room, but I stopped her. 

"Wait," I mumbled out, starting to instantly regret it. Her long hair flowed back around and she finally looked at me, wide eyed - but suspicious. 

"Mhm?" she furrowed her brows and without my permission, she flicked on a lamp, bringing a yellow tone to the room. I squinted my eyes slightly. 

"I want to talk," I looked away from her, glancing down, feeling a sharp pain in my neck. I must have slept on it funny, I thought as I rubbed a hand over it. 

"About what?" she did not sound interested. I could tell she was pissed off at me. Something about her now is so much different than the girl I was in love with three years ago. 

"Things," I mumbled lazily. From the corner of my eyes, I saw her cross her arms before she sat down on the edge of the couch in the room. 

"Like?" she now raised her eyebrows at me, her attention seeming to be fully on me now. I breathed in and out deeply before answering. 

"What you said earlier," I had to stop my eyes from rolling in annoyance. And it wasn't annoyance from her presence, it was from her always being right. 

"Huh," she said quietly, slightly amused. "You seem anxious," she noted and my jaw clenched knowing that once again, she was right. 

"I'm going through shit, how can I not be?" I spat back to her with an immature attitude, but I don't give a shit at the moment. 

"Does your shit start with her?" she must have not cared about my tone, because she sounded normal. Except this time she spoke, I wanted to scream at her, but something in me stopped me from doing so.

"Yes. Well, wait -I don't know, there's a lot of things on my mind," I shook my head, glancing back over to her. 

"You've become a cryptic person," she said in what sounded like disappointment. I honestly had to think in my head for a moment what that word meant, but then it hit me. 

"I'm not," I tried to protest but I knew I was failing. "You've only been around me for a few days," I muttered but she still heard me. 

"Are you forgetting that we have had a past, that lasted for more than a few days," I could sense her frustration. God why do I have to be such a fuck up all of the time.