"Oh for god's sake!" Mitchell yelled as he walked through the door of the pink house, slamming the door behind him.
"What's wrong with you?" George mumbled into a pillow. He was lying sideways on the sofa, one arm drooping off the edge, hand resting against the dirty carpet, which had obviously not been vacuumed in months.
"I could ask you the same thing." Mitchell muttered, glancing over at George's limp body before marching through to the kitchen and slamming the kettle into the sink, splashing water into it.
"Give that here." Annie said, grabbing the kettle from Mitchell and pushing him out of the way, "Anyway, what's with you two? George has been moping around the house all day and now Mitchell stomps in ruining the kettle?"
George sighed, looking up from his place on the sofa long enough to see Mitchell to pull a face at Annie who was arranging mugs and tea bags before he planted his face back into the cushion.
"Nymmmm..." he mumbled, inhaling the scent of tea and home and pizza.
"Oh, very well explained, George." Annie muttered, thrusting a mug of tea at him and causing him to almost have boiling liquid poured all over him.
"Well I'm sorry! Throwing boiling tea at me will make me talk though!" he said, his voice raising an octave.
"Oh, I don't have time for this." Mitchell muttered darkly, grabbing his mug and stomping up the stairs.
"Jesus, I swear most of the time it feels like I live with two children." Annie said, sinking into her chair opposite George who was muttering to himself.
After a couple of minutes of her looking at him, he glanced up from his tea, "What?"
Lex ran down the street, heart pounding. She could hear the blood pumping in her ears, could feel the sweat prickling on her back, could feel the fear flooding through her. She dashed up a side street, not stopping, ignoring the pain in her chest. She vowed she would exercise more, if she ever made it out of this alive. She chanced a glance behind and saw that the man was at the bottom of the road she was now about half way up, and he seemed to be slowing.
As she saw the pub, the New Found Out, at the top of the road, she pushed herself, as if it was a beacon of some sorts. But as she neared it she saw that it was closed. Ignoring the annoyance and pain she could feel seizing most of her body, she took another few strides before collapsing against a doorway, bashing at it as hard as she could.
The door opened and she threw herself inside, not caring who had opened the door, and slammed it shut, falling against it as she panted.
"So where's Nina?" Annie asked, mustering up something to say to the partially unconscious looking George.
The response she received could barely be counted as a noise. She sighed and looked around the living room, cups and mugs on every surface, pillows strewn about the room, the sofa, Mitchell's and her chair all pointing in to form a sort of circle. It was a strange combination, her, Mitchell and George, Annie thought, but they were a family. A warped one, but still a family.
"I think I might go out." George mumbled from the pillow.
"Oh, finally surfacing at half ten at night?" Annie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Yeah I am." He said with dignity until he fell off the side of the sofa.
"Smooth." She muttered, taking her and George's mugs out to the kitchen and vowing she would clean the room tomorrow.
"Do you need anything?" George asked from the floor, not even sure where he was heading himself.
"No, I think I'll go to the shop myself. Pick up some cleaning things." Annie told him, patting her pocket to check she had money on her.
"Do you think that's a wise idea?" he asked, slowly standing up.
"George, I look real, I sound real, at the moment I'm just as real as you." She said, feeling indignant.
"But you're squidgy." He said, voice wavering at the last word.
"I'm fine. Now, are you coming with me or what?" she said, knowing there was no point in even asking Mitchell.
"No!" he answered, getting dragged out of the door by Annie anyway.
As Mitchell heard the door slam, he slowly walked back down the stairs to the kitchen, grabbing a packet of custard creams and sitting down in his chair, starting to munch.
This was his life now, he thought to himself. Sitting alone in a chair in a room full of mugs eating biscuits. He didn't know when it had happened, but his life had become unbelievably boring. He considered going out to a bar somewhere or doing something of interest but found he simply couldn't be bothered and shoved another custard cream into his mouth, sitting back in his chair.
Suddenly there was a loud banging on the door. He sighed and stood up, dragging his feet across the floor as he went to open it.