𝑆𝑈𝑁𝐾𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐸𝐷 - steve harrington

002

[002] - hatred for each other hidden behind a hatred for golf.

      WEDNESDAY, JUNE 6TH

     Steve laid sloppily atop his bed, sheets thrown around, arms hanging lazily off the edges, hair messily fallen onto the fabric of his pillow. The seasonal heat had somehow found a way into the large, cold, air-conditioned, emptiness of the Harrington house. The temperatures made sleep feel like a chore, and insomnia feel inevitable. Yet somehow in the flurry of humidity, restlessness, and heat, Steve Harrington had found peace. A small door, a gateway, leading far away from the outside world and into the whimsy and warmth of his dreams. His mind explored his imagination, filling the dark nights with bright colors. Even when his bedroom felt empty, dark and still, he would live vivaciously in the visions of his sleep.

     Morning twilight sparkled against the curtains of Steve's bedroom, softly illuminating the striped walls. The light was tranquil, just barely grazing Steve's back as it slipped past the restraint of his windows. Soon, the tranquility broke. The calm lake became littered with ripples and waves as Richard Harrington entered the motionless room of his son.

     After noticing his son was still lost in his state of slumber, he stepped over to the windows. Pulling harshly at the curtains, light erupted around the room. Exposing the soft skin of Steve's eyelids and forcing them open. Shocked and disturbed, Steve buried his head into his pillow, muffling an annoyed groan.

     "Get up." Richard ordered, leaning above the bed and pulling Steve's sheets to the side.

     "Dad, it's like 6 am. I don't have to be at work until 4 today.." Steve grumbled, refusing to face his father. Wincing at his presence as if it was as damaging as the brightness now resurfacing across the room.

     "We're going golfing." Steve felt his father's words hit him sharply in the head, sending shock waves through his body, awakening him to the dark murmur of his father's voice and the dreadful headache that followed. "Get up. I won't ask you again."

    "What are you talking about?" Steve sat up on his elbows, brows furrowed and brain puzzled.

"Don't act surprised." Anger bubbled in Richard's words, threatening to escape in between his breaths. He had to dig the heels of his hands into his eyes in order to push the emotion down, desperately trying to keep his cool. "You agreed to this on Monday."

     Even in his foggy haze of morning confusion, Steve understood his father's words. Remembering the promise he made on Monday morning, the expectation to regain his composure after a dramatic hallway meltdown.

     "Meet me in the car in 30 minutes." Richard slammed the door shut as he left. His absence left Steve uncomfortably heavy, weighed down by a sense of anxiousness enough to cause him to crash through his bed.