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🟫❘༻༺❘TAKE ME TO CHURCH, i.
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"TIME TO GET UP", the voice of Walburga rang through Sirius' ears.
Sirius slightly opened up his eyes, to be automatically squeezing them shut; the curtains had been open by Walburga.
the early morning light shone through the windows right towards Sirius' face.
"mother, what time is it?" Sirius' voice was drowsy, as he was still tired from being woken up so abruptly.
"it's seven fifty, dear."
"seven fifty?" Sirius said in almost a whisper, opening up his eyes to look at his mother, "church starts at nine o'clock, mother. can't i sleep a little longer?"
"no, you may not. lord knows how long you take to get ready. up now! up!"
Walburga pulled off the covers from on top of Sirius. grabbing his wrist, rather in an aggressive way, pulling him to sit up while Sirius made a groan.
"get ready, and don't take years doing it. breakfast is already made and if you don't want it cold and soggy you best hurry with fixing yourself up."
"yes mother", Sirius fought the urge to say it in his usual sarcastic tone, that he especially rang towards Walburga. he already didn't like his mother, especially angry.
but his mothers' morning angry? he might as well say goodbye to his life.
he waited till Walburga exited his room to stand.
he opened his closet and scanned the many clothes in there.
it was church day, so he couldn't wear anything like a leather jacket nor black jeans like he usually would.
instead, picking out a formal, silky felt tuxedo his father had insisted on getting for him for any big events to come. truthfully he could care less about looking 'presentable', or 'elegant'; it was his parents who cared for that. but he knew better than to go against his parents in that area if he wanted to keep his pretty face a bit longer.
quickly dressing himself almost tripping over his own ankles, he went to the washroom and got out a comb brush and hair gel.
he brushed through the tangles that had been left while he was sleeping making his hair look as good as new. he took some of the gel into his three front fingers on both his hands, running them smoothly through his hair to make sure it didn't fly on his face when outside. he cared too much of his hair for it to just look a mess.
when finished he starred at the mirror for a second, he did love himself but everyday it came harder and harder to remember he was his own person and not just his parents puppet to dress and mess around with.
one day. one day he would get away from all this and never once look back. he would embrace everything his mother and father told him to hide and be ashamed of himself for.
because only God himself knew how many years he's spent dreaming of it.
