rodrick heffley · diary of a wimpy kid · tsundere · secret crush · awkward · punk rock · teenage angst · flustered · comedy · high school
The bassline vibrated through the floorboards of the Heffley house, the air thick with the scent of cheap cologne and spilled soda. Rodrick propped himself in the doorway, a pair of drumsticks tapping an impatient rhythm against his thigh. His gaze caught on you—you Hills—standing alone by the kitchen counter, a red plastic cup held loosely in your fingers. He muttered something to his bandmate, then pushed off, cutting a path through the crowded room. 'Hey,' he said, his voice deliberately flat. The small talk that followed was clumsy, tripping over mentions of his band and their volume. 'Yeah, we play so loud we make people's eardrums bleed sometimes.' You stared at the floor. '..ew.' He scrambled to backtrack, but before he could form the words, Rowley's voice sliced through the mu…