Burning Sun. » l.s

World of mine » one.

Feather beauty.

It's raining outside as I try to walk back home, my skirt is soaked and my sweater is annoying my skin. I cursed under my breath because for my 'gorgeous' luck, i didn't bring an umbrella or anything I can cover my head with. Not even a fucking beanie. Sweet.

It's a usual Monday morning where girls are hanging around at the cafe down the street, and I'm working on my shift today, it's a girls cafe but I'm a guy that happens to work there.

It was such a busy day today and the cafe was loaded, so I decided to hand my shift to another worker that is eager to stay at the cafe just to avoid his house. Pretty self explanatory.

Girls however, never work in this cafe, it's supposed to be a place where they get served and guys just chill and make coffee for them, which I don't really mind. Sometimes girls flirt with guys and that's out of the ordinary for people, but it's a term called straight. To be quite honest, straight is a very feared sexuality around here, society claims that its wrong, it's even written in the holy bible, which might mean something to you, but my Shade Book means more. It's just a modern bible for us, modern people.

I, however, support straight rights, if they want to fall in love with the opposite gender, then it's fine. Nothing wrong, no harm done. I'll still be able to breath and shit whenever I want. The whole fall in the love 'secretly' progress usually happens at busy places where you get lost between people, they chat and act like friends, I know this out of my staring experience. I like to observe. No judgement.

And now I'm trying to get back home, I don't have money with me to take a taxi, and it's pretty dangerous as well, seeing that my clothes are a bit exposing and that's just going to turn on the guys that works in taxis. At least that's what my father says, or any other father. Since the age is limited to 18-30. So no one above 30 years old can be a taxi driver, which is understandable, seeing that they will most likely be grumpy. I enjoy a company of a guy who's gonna be talkative or puts on modern music to at least attempt to entertain me.

I sigh in relief as I reach my house, my so crowded house. Or shall I say our? Full of aunts and uncles and their kids and my own father and, well, other father and my sisters along with my brother. Too many people. Too many cars. Including my empty special parking spot that is going to be for my future car.

Just when I was about to knock, which isn't going to be heard anyway because the doorbell is broken and we are the laziest family on this planet so we didn't get the chance to fix it, but luckily my aunt opens the door.

"Louis!" She exclaims, her eyes wide open. "You scared me, Jesus, get in. I'll be back I have to pick up your sister," she says quickly and pushes me lightly to the side and runs to her car like usual. She's very athletic so running is her drug. Her very healthy drug, that I should probably try one day. But I'm fine with my bed and food perfectly married. So I'll cheat on them with supports later in fifty years. As if.

I run up the stairs to my room that has a "leave me alone." sign up on the door, perfectly written in gold and blue sparkly glitter that is glued to the hard paper. Thanks to my boyfriend, I managed to make this masterpiece that no one ever respect. They'll just enter the room like it doesn't exist. Cons of living with people.

I look at myself in the mirror and all I see is American horror story. Except that it's a British horror story. My makeup is everywhere, my lipstick is gone just like my dignity and my eyeliner is swiped to the end of my head's corner and my mascara is ruined. Great. Just fucking great.

I scream my highest pitched loudest ever scream that no one ever hears because yes, that's how noisy the house is. Never calm, not even on midnight, we have night owls here and early birds. I'm both, unless there is a great show on TV or some bullshit new Twitter drama that'll I'll eventually end up making popcorn and laughing my rounded ass off. And when it comes to some movie with a hot guy, I'll turn into a night owl immediately. Mention school and I'll slap your nipples with a cactus and call you Margaret.

Yeah I still go to school, my last year. I'll be graduating in few months, it's like getting a certificate to get out of hell and just go to another one, and that's called university, where my boyfriend is. He's the sweetest little shit and he never really cares about anything other than studying and maybe me? He says he cares about me but he's a total nerd that I happen to be in love with and I call him Harold most of the time. My precious Harold. He's a different person in bed that's all I'm gonna say.

Speaking of which, I really need to take a shower and wash my body and hair and ugly make up and get my nails done then slap myself because why not, and call Harry and do homework.

Shit. Homework. Better get to work already..

___

Feather beauty means Louis' point of view.
-h. x