seraphic [h.s]

chapter forty five.

Low chuckles from the alleyways I passed was absolutely not something I wanted to hear. Nor did I want to look up, in fear of seeing god knows what. In saying that, I thanked the non existent stars that the streetlights were bright enough for me to manage my way. I kept my head down, eyes to myself, and I didn't dare ask anybody for help.

For a long while, as I'd been sitting on the side of the road, a few houses down from my own, I hadn't known where to go. After kicking at the pavement, —no doubt scuffing the sides of my chuck taylor's— I still hadn't known where to go. When no real plan came to mind, I had finally come to the conclusion that I had no idea what to do with myself.

I could barely open my puffy eyes, and the moment I closed them, they almost stung more than the hand I'd been dealt. I was very, very aware that my crouching-crying position was not ideal if anybody were to see me. And I was almost positive I'd seen a shadow in the house opposite me, open their curtain to then only close it straight away.

It was that moment, that had spurred me to stand up and get the fuck out of this street. So that was what I had done. Which led me to now, quietly sulking my way around the neighbourhood. I blocked out the voices and whistles and murmurs and surged forward. There was suddenly only one person I wanted to see, purely because I knew out of everybody, she was the one who would always have my back.

And if she ever chose to not have it, she would at least tell me straight up, rather than whisper all of these sweet false words and make me fall in love. I trusted her, and that meant a lot to me. Now more than ever it seemed.

So, through blurry eyes, I yanked the straps on my shoulders from falling further and continued to strive forwards. The tattoo shop was in the livelier part of town, and since I had been walking for nearly ten minutes, I knew in another five I would get there. I wasn't particularly sure how I'd managed to walk almost fifteen minutes with two heavy bags, a box and a suitcase, but I'd consider that a small victory within my day— since there literally wasn't anything else.

I crossed a few more roads, intercepted through a few back alleyways that seemed safe upon a quick glance— not my finest or safest moment— but I had to get to the shop somehow. And if I got there and Dee had already locked up and the place was all dark, then nobody could tell me that I couldn't camp outside the place until morning, or whenever she came back.

This was my life now.

As I rounded a few corners, I couldn't help as my mind drifted to the boy I shouldn't be thinking about. I wondered where he was? What he would do if he knew my situation now? Would he come back then? If he knew that I was all alone now, no home, no place to stay, no arms to keep warm in. But as quick as that thought came, it fled just as fast, because no matter what situation I was now in, he had still chosen to leave at that pivotal point in our... relationship? No. I wasn't sure what the hell he was to me. Then or now.

I shook my head, hoping that thought would fall and not return. I had to start thinking logically now. There was no way my job at the diner would be enough to support me, and I needed some kind of income to fill in the time until the shop opened. Though even then, I would probably need to keep a few jobs if I wanted enough money to really support myself. I'd have to start looking, preferably tomorrow. Time really waited for no one, and it sure has hell left me way behind, as did everybody else.

Harry floated through my mind again— clearly returning— and I got the feeling he would on a regular basis. How could he not, when we spent nearly a whole summer together. The best summer of my life if it hadn't ended the way it had. But it sure had ended, so I needed to stop fucking thinking about him as if he would come back. I blinked hard, forcing the tears to not pass my waterline, I couldn't cry about that fucker forever, even if he sure had done a number on me.