Damaged » h. styles au

Chapter 07 - Harry

warning: this chapter needs to be rewritten. I'll work on it and as soon as I repost it, I'll let you know.

                                                              07.

                                                       ●•Harry•●

All that I know is that there was this annoyingly loud buzzing sound dangerously close to my ear, and I couldn't find the damn stupid button to turn it off. I really wasn't willing to open my eyes, nor get off the bed, but I knew it was time and there was no way I could take any longer. Unless I wanted to get late for work. God, I hated Mondays, and I really should've slept earlier the night before. 

As I threw the covers on the floor, I heard my phone vibrating on the headboard, but I just ignored it while I kept making my way sleepily to the bathroom. The day had barely dawned yet, and when I peered out the window, the sky was still foggy from the storm that came rushing in the middle of the night before, and dark grey clouds still wandered around the darkness, cold air surrounding the small town. 

When I undressed to get into the cold shower, the urge to come back to bed grew bigger than the usual, and I just couldn't stop thinking about how great it'd be to stop doing everything for a day, and just stay under my covers instead; no talking to friends, no helping with favors, no listening to my parents' "advices", no family dinners, no moody guys at work. But of course, that wasn't possible. 

As the minutes passed by, I eventually had to turn off the water and get dressed, still against my will. The weather would be cold all day long, so I put my sweater and jeans on and wandered to the kitchen to have something before leaving home. Not that I had much an option; I wasn't any chef, and I urgently had to go grocery shopping before I ended up with no food on the fridge. In that case, I'd be forced to have dinner with my parents and listen to a bunch of sermons saying how irresponsible and immature I was; they'd probably also say I should go back to live with them, and my mom would start saying I needed a woman in my life, someone who could take care of me as much as she did when I was a kid. But according to her, now I was grown up enough for her to take care of her boy, so I needed another kind of woman. And then we'd be back to Charlie and how amazing she was and how perfect we'd look together, even though I totally disagreed. 

Before long, I was inside my car, checking the messages on my phone before turning the key in the ignition and driving to work. There were only a couple of messages; one from Davie, saying he'd forgotten one of his bracelets at my place, and asking me to keep it safe. I quickly responded saying I'd look for it later. The other one was from a guy at uni; he needed to talk to me and he wanted me to call him back when I had enough time. 

I ignored the message by now, and just started driving; knowing that if I called him he'd ask for some favor, probably something related to the last assignment the teacher had asked us. And, honestly, I wasn't on the mood to deal with that kind of people right now. It was Monday morning, I was exhausted and a lot of things were going through my head. He could wait a bit more; he'd have to.

-- 

"Hey, curly guy. You came early today." His sarcastic tone pissed me off, but I just ignored him. All I was wishing for was no one in sight when I arrived the store, but apparently, that wasn't my lucky day at all. On my way 'till here the guy from uni sent at least seven new messages saying he urgently needed to talk to me, though I doubted it was really that urgent; the fuel of my car decided to end up in the middle of the street, and I somehow had to manage pushing it to the nearest gas station with angry people honking behind me; as if it wasn't enough, I also had to fall into a puddle of grease and smudge black the seat of my Range Rover. After that, of course I had to head back home and take another shower, so then I could finally go to work. And there I was, staring at Joe with that pathetic, sarcastic and pissed look at his face.