The orange glow of the sun seeps through the windshield window, casing my vision in red behind my closed eyes. I crack an eye open to see the orange, yellow and pink swirls against the blue sky. Birds tweet from the electric wires, singing loudly to one another in their morning song. The roads are quiet with only a few cars passing by.
I check the time and groan. It's 4am. Monday. Fuck, fuck fuck! Today is the day of mum's funeral. I swallow hard, trying to rid the lump in my throat. I adjust my seat back to sitting and see Clifford still snoozing on the passenger seat.
I feel clammy, sweaty, hot, smelly, scared, nervous, anxious. I take a deep breath in and exhale slowly.
I could really do with a shower and somewhere to change properly.
I start the car, startling Cliff out of his sleep. He growls until he realises it's me and wags his tail, yawning and sitting up right. I scratch behind his ear. I turn off the side, hesitant at first to leave but I need to rid of this salty sweat sheering my entire body.
I begin driving and find myself pulling up beside the Range Rover. I get out the car, opening the door for Cliff too and we work our way up towards the front door, suit draped over my shoulder as I hold the hook on the hanger with a lazy finger. I knock on the door loudly, yawning and scratching my scalp.
When no one answers, I ring the bell, rattle the door. Footsteps sound closer and closer until the door opens a crack, a frown on his face. He swipes his bleary eyes over me and sighs, closing the door to unlatch the latch and swings it open further.
"The fuck you doing here at this time of night?" He hisses, stamping back up the stairs. I follow on behind him and watch him flop back under his covers, cheek squished against his pillow. "You're lucky you didn't wake my sisters."
I roll my eyes. "It's morning," I point out.
"Any time before seven is certainly not morning, well not for me anyway. It's still night time to me. What are you doing here so early? And why are you ignoring Harry?"
I groan, flopping onto his bed too, throwing an arm over my eyes. "Because it's for the best. Can I use your shower."
"Jesus L! Yes but why so early?"
"It's mum's funeral today."
That shuts him up. He fish mouths until shutting his mouth tightly when he has nothing to say. After a while he speaks up. "Want me to come with you?" He asks.
I shake my head. "No, I'll be fine, I just need to smell better than shit."
He nods into his pillow at that, humming in agreement. "You stink."
"Thanks Z, really, I didn't realise, God where would I be without you when Sherlock here doesn't point out the bleeding obvious?" I sass back.
Zayn slaps me upside the head. "Shut up. There's a fresh towel in there already. Is that your suit?" He asks, pointing to the garment bag laying beside me.
I nod. "Yeah. Right I'm gonna go shower before one of your sisters decides to take up all the hot water."
"They won't be awake for an extra four hours."
I wave him off and slowly make my way into his bathroom, turning the shower on and stepping inside. I look at myself in the opposite mirror. There's dark circles under my eyes, my skin is paler than usual and my stubble is just over cleanly shaved due to my abandonment on that activity. My hair looks greasy until I shove my head under the running water also. My tummy is flat and I can see the hip bones poking under my flesh, my high cheek bones are more prominent with the way my skin is sleek and hollowed into them. I look awful and the bruising on my neck is still there, making my appearance that much worse.
YOU ARE READING
Strawberry Ice cream
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] Louis Tomlinson, an eighteen year old college student has his whole life ahead of him. But with his mum being sick and the anxiety and depression getting in the way, he feels alone in this big world. That is until he goes to his favourit...