Deliverance [h.s.]

three | i'll stand

Every little swallow, every chick-a-dee

Every little bird in the tall oak tree

Rockin Robin || Bobby Day

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I spent most of yesterday lounging around the house, trying to give myself enough time to rest before we kick things back into gear. I've spent two days simping around like a little bitch and it's time to get back to myself. No more moping, no more feeling defeated, it's time to be me again. It's already damaging to my pride that I got my ass kicked, I can't sit here and beat myself up about it any longer.

It's noon now, so I have 9 hours before the game tonight. Mac and I agreed to go together but play at separate tables to try and maximize our money. If things don't go as planned we're pretty fucked money wise. For now though the plan is to go in confident and win.

I sit up, untangling myself from my blankets and walk towards my dresser going through the motions of my regular morning routine. I throw on pants before shuffling back towards my bed to straighten the blankets and pillows. Once I'm finished I head straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.

My eyes shut for a second before opening them up slightly to try and adjust to light in the bathroom. I lean into the counter towards the mirror to examine the damage on my face. The bruises have faded slightly in the last 48 hours, hopefully making them coverable with makeup. The swelling has gone down almost completely surrounding my eyes and cheek however, the gash on my cheek is going to be impossible to cover. All things considered, I look pretty fuckin good.

The thing about these events is, although illegal, they're more formal than casual. Nothing incredibly fancy, but if you're crazy enough to chance your money then you better look like you have some. Every time I've seen Mac go to one of these things he made sure to wear slacks, a nice dress shirt, a tie, and his hair was always fixed. So to try my best to fit in I picked out a form fitting dress with some simple heels.

Once I finish my routine I put my hair up into a bun and walk into the living room. I go and inspect the plants lining the walls and hanging from the ceiling to see which need water or just a little extra sunbathing time today. I make a mental checklist of which need care and walk over to our speakers, turning them on and hitting shuffle on a playlist. The first song that comes through the speaks is a favorite of mine, Rockin Robin by Bobby Day. My music taste typically falls into the category of "oldies" but I prefer the term "classics". I adjust the volume to a higher setting and begin to hum along with the melody.

I gather my small water pitcher and begin tending to the plants throughout the room. Most of these plants are simple pothos or philodendrons and require the bare minimum or care but there are a few exceptions of trickier plants.

After watering all our beautiful babies I decide to try out something I read online. I crouch down on the floor next to my Fishtale Palm tree and begin gently shaking its pot. It's supposed to simulate the plant being outside in the wind. Apparently it makes them happy and promotes healthy growth. I continue shaking the pot lightly really trying to rattle the leaves.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mac's voice appears from behind me causing me to fall backwards on to my ass out of fear.

"Holy fuck you need a bell when you walk. You scared the shit outta me." I turn my head over my shoulder to see Mac standing in between the kitchen and living room with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Okay I still don't understand what you're doing?" He questions with a small smile spreading on his face, shaking his head lightly as he spoke.

"Well I realize now how crazy I look hunched over wiggling a plant but, I am simulating the wind in their leaves by shaking the pot, I read somewhere it makes them happy." I explain as I turn my head back and continue to lightly rattle the pot.