laundry love [completed]

t w e l v e : or maybe not

"i'm in heaven, right now. this bacon is ama-zing!"

"i'm pretty sure you were feeling me up in your sleep, yesterday. ira, if you wanted me so badly, you could have just asked."

"i. was. not!"

"sub-conscience never lies, sweetheart. you should know that."

"idiot. oi, i just realised something. you've got three housekeepers, why do you do your own laundry?"

"dad."

"would you care to explain? and don't sneer like that, have some respect."

"money doesn't grow on trees, my son. you'll realize the value of it only when you start earning it on your own."

"i fucking love your dad!"

"i don't. just because he grew up in a rented apartment with his mum and five siblings."

"..."

"what? it doesn't mean i have to suffer the same poverty."

"..."

"don't snap your fingers like that at mrs. dawson. she's your housekeeper, not your fucking slave!"

"same thing."

"no, it is not. and your father is trying to teach you the value of humility, you fucktard. pull your head out of your arse!

"while you fucking get everything served on a silver platter within a snap of a finger, there are hundreds of people begging and starving for a meal, adrian. a meal. forget 'oh, i'm on a diet so i'll only have kale' or 'i ordered a seven course meal instead of a five course'. a  b r e a t h .

"while you play on your play station, finding a dollar in a dilapidated hat is gold for them, when you buy fucking calvin klein, people out there wear second handed clothes, or... a  g a s p .

"or...or when you fucking get enrolled into an ivy league with the help of your father's hard-earned money, some fathers k i l l themselves and make it seem like a mere accident, just so that their stubborn daughters get to chase their dreams with the insurance money." a  s o b .

"ira, did your father..."

"..." 

"where are you going?"

"i'll show myself out, adrian. i hope we never fucking meet again. and hello, mr. and mrs. macintyre; your son will do wonders, i'm sure. "