Violet.
- Five months later || December -
I slammed the car door shut with a loud sigh, slumping towards the front door as I kept my eyes low and made my way through the snow covering our driveway.
The lights shining through the windows from inside out, made me feel slightly better after the absolutely shitty work day I'd had. It was around five in the evening, but since it was winter it was full dark already.
Next week was Christmas, and me and the colleagues at Clarendale's had been bickering back and forth about who had to work which shift. Obviously none of us wanted to work on Christmas day or New Year's day, but staff always had to be present. We did get paid more on days like that, but not even that could convince us to sign up our names.
Melissa was going to try and see if any volunteers would want to take our place, and otherwise we'd leave it up to faith and start some sort of turn role. Whoever worked Christmas now wouldn't have to work it for the coming couple of years, and so on.
Not only that had slightly ruined my day, but I had also gotten in a massive fight with one of the residents, and got scolded by Melissa for it. I had never seen the vein in her forehead protrude so much when she called me into her office to yell at me. And she was right for it. I had definitely let this young resident get to me and push all my buttons. He literally drew the blood from beneath my nails and I lost all my patience when it came to him. He was Clarendale's Timothy, minus having the bad influence on other residents.
He just enjoyed taking the piss at all staff members, and it made me lose my patience sometimes. Like today. Max – who had been my shift buddy this week – had tried coming to my defence, but the vein had been so big that it scared even him off. Melissa had a soft spot for him usually, I assumed she fancied him, but today it hadn't helped.
Max had tried to cheer me up afterwards but it had been no use. I stayed a little later to fill out paperwork and muster up the courage to apologize to the resident, named Ashton. Even though his name was the same of my first boyfriend, his personality was anything but my Ashton's. He had been a sweetheart, whereas this young boy was the devil himself.
The warmth of the house hit me when I opened the front door and immediately made me feel a little better. What made me feel loads better was the smell of Harry cooking up a meal. I could tell it was a chicken roast in the oven, and that he had to have been working on it for a few hours already.
"Vi?" He called from the kitchen once he heard me closing the door. I took my boots off in order not to wet the entire house with the residue snow that hung on them. "Yeah, I'm home." I called back, shrugging off my heavy coat to hang it up and then running a hand through my hair to get any knots out.
It had grown out a lot over the past few months, and was now well below my shoulders. I liked it, but still wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. My short hair gave me a bit of an edge, and I missed that sometimes. On the other hand, I enjoyed putting it up in braids or buns, something I couldn't do with my short locks.
I involuntary smiled when I saw Harry in the kitchen, his back to me and an apron on as he was washing a couple of dishes.
"Hey." I spoke and he looked at me over his shoulder, "Hi, petal. Did you have a good day?"
"No." I grumbled, and Harry frowned before he let the water run out of the sink and dried his hands off, "What happened?" He had a look of concern on his face but it faded once he saw my childish pout. He knew it was nothing serious and chuckled a little as he approached me, cupping my cheeks to pull me into him, "Had another fight with Ashton."
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