all the love // H.S au (university series)

banana

I'd been lounging on the couch all day, re-reading To Kill A Mockingbird for the billionth time, and buried myself underneath a pile of blankets. my phone buzzed next to me, notifying a text or email. I checked it right away because it could've been Irene asking for a reminder to what kind of milk we buy. Instead of reading a text from my aunt, I read one from an unknown number.

"From: unknown Sorry this had been bugging me for hours... you said you weren't taking that class yet you were holding the book we're reading. care to explain?" l am
f u c k e d. He can't know, he'd think I'm crazy or a cheapskate. He could rat me out. I don't know if you know this, but attending lectures to a school you're not enrolled in is illegal.

my phone buzzed once more.
"From: Unknown
Sorry it's Harry if you hadn't already figured it out already. You should put some cute emojis next to my name as well, sweetheart."

sweetheart
God damn. I can't not reply now because he sees I've read his texts.

To: Harry 🍌
Alright you get a banana emoji.

maybe if I just don't answer his question he won't bring it up again.

From: Harry🍌
Banana is my favorite food. But don't avoid what I initially asked, are you lying about attending Burrow's class?

Shit.
To: Harry🍌
No, I am not. I just so happen to love reading Milton, and my aunt was confused about a passage so I picked up a copy to help her out.

Good save, belles.

From: Harry🍌
Alright, I see. Well, I hope to see you around campus more often. maybe even off campus.

aw what a sweetie

From: Harry🍌
Sorry if that was forward, I tend to act that way towards women I find attractive. How does lunch sound tomorrow?

wait what. He's asking me to lunch and we had just met today. I cant lie I really would love to see him more. Not everyday you meet a sexy literate Brit.

to: Harry🍌
Well I guess it's a good thing I can't refuse offers from such handsome men.

From: Harry🍌
Meet at the coffee house at 1 tomorrow, love?

To:Harry🍌
I'll be there.

I am grinning from ear to ear, so hard my cheeks might fall right off. Is this real life, or is this just a dream?

My ass is figuratively being charmed off, but I don't care. I'm gonna let myself daydream about tomorrow's lunch without a care in the world. Harry was something special, anyone with eyes intuitive enough can see that. He's bold and upfront, with girls and in the classroom. He's passionate with literature, which is only the biggest turn on in the world. And to top all that off, he's silly. I can hold a fun conversation with him. Gah, this boy is going to drive me up the walls.
--
I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror and almost gagged. After the cute exchanges of texts with Harry, I sat and finished To Kill A Mockingbird and then started a new Novel. I was probably a quarter through when my bladder screamed for me to find the nearest toilet. And this is where I am now.

Looking scared, bewildered and dissatisfied with my appearance. Screw it, I'm giving myself a mini facial.

I raided all the cabinets in the bathroom, hallway and bedrooms to find skin care products that could benefit me. I drew a bath as I washed my face with a few different expensive cleaners, padded my cheeks and T zone with some toner and serum, mixed up a homemade mask to smear over my pores as I relax in an herbal bath I drew. I shaved all the areas that needed to be shaved and washed down all of the filth from the drain. Feelings refreshed, I went to town on my eyebrows, to make them as pristine as possible.

I like to put effort into my appearance. It's healthy to care about your body and how you project yourself into the world. I take no shame in it, I love to care after myself, because my body is the only one I'm ever going to get. Why not treat it as a temple?

Feeling as if all my energy washed down the drain with the essential oils and soaps, I thew on my favorite oversized shirt and crawled under my douvet. Auntie Irene is out with friends tonight, so I can be expecting a cranky hungover woman on the couch tomorrow. My eyelids closed on themselves and soon my conscience went out for the night.

--

I woke up early. Like, five in the morning early. I couldn't really go back to sleep and I was feeling inspired and wrote some poems in my black leather notebook.

Your lips kiss the brim of a bottle of Hennessy more than they do your child.
Your knuckles tear more skin of other men than they caress your wife.

Is she still the love of your life?

I read over past poems and doodles until it was a feasible time to start my day. I thought I'd be nice to Irene and make her a breakfast, a strong cup of coffee and a bottle of painkillers and vitamins. Alcohol is so bad for your body, and I never really binge drink. I'll go out and have drinks with friends every once in a while, but il never get drunk for the sake of getting drunk. I'm not 16 anymore.

The crepes, eggs, and fresh fruit looked delicious. I brought the tray and coffee over to the living room and lightly shook Irene. I don't want the wrath of a hungover demon in the morning.

"Irene, there's food and coffee. I'm going across the street." I whisper yelled when she (barely) woke.

She groaned, very loudly, and threw a pillow angrily over her head. I giggled and backed out of the livingroom. I went into my room
and began getting ready for the day.

As soon as I was dressed in a pair of tight jeans, comfy top and fuzzy cardigan, and my makeup was as good as it was going to get, I grabbed my slouchy bag and headed across the cold London street to the park. It was honesty really convenient that there's a park across from us, I spent a lot of time here reading, writing, studying.

I pulled out the Milton book again along with a notebook to jot down anything that comes to mind while reading. It's a habit I've always done while reading.

--
really short chapter & I am so sorry! It was originally part of the next chapter, but that ended up making it too long.