Sleepyhead

Flashy Lights

Top Six Reasons Why I, Sutton Lark, Have Had The Best Two Days Ever:

One, I’ve recently come into a bit of a money. Mum finally caved, felt so badly about the whole “Dad is a raging lunatic and cut me off” business and sent me a check of a very generous amount. At first I did a little dance about Niall’s flat and contemplated a belly slide across his wood floors, but decided against it when I considered the possible splinters and what not. My tits wouldn’t exactly appreciate that, now would they? And after that urge went along, I decided to spend the money on a round of drinks for everyone who had been buying me shit in the last two months. And when everyone decided they had better plans, it ended up being me and Niall and Harry and Josh and Astrid playing skiball and eating pizza and drinking cheap beer at some weird arcade Niall was fond of.

Two, I have acquired an invite to visit one Edward Sheeran on his music video set. Details to follow, but Harry had disrupted my beauty sleep the first night and informed me that we were going to “hang out” with Mr. Sheeran and have drinks and be swaggie (my words, not his mind you). And because I thought Ed Sheeran was a beautiful man who really understood a lady, I agreed to attend. (Actually I sprung from bed and tackled Harry and told him the only way I could be more excited was if it was Olly Murs. And then I gave him a little present if you know what I mean.)

(A lil oral present.)

Three, whilst unpacking some of my things in Niall’s flat, I happened upon my old Spice World VHS. And after much begging and a few tit flashes to all parties involved, I managed to get Harry to set up the VHS player and I was able to watch my favorite film not just once, but three times in row while Niall and Harry acted like I had them under gunpoint. (I’ve been told my singing is much like being held at gunpoint. So when I sang along and they cringed, I knew that I held all the power). And I was instantly reminded of where my unrealistic expectations for tour buses started.

Four, I found an unopened jar of Nutella in Harry’s cupboard. The jar was empty in less than an hour. Details to follow.

Five, I have not seen Zayn Malik in a total of three days.

Six, I have been currently sleeping for the last fifteen hours and that hasn’t happened since the pre-Ari breakup. God bless Barack Obama and David Cameron and whoever allowed this beautiful moment. Also the bed that I was currently sleeping was like heaven on Earth mixed with an entire platter of chicken fingers and a whole bunch of Olly Murs’ bums dancing around just for me.

I like to sleep.

News bulletin: Sutton Lark likes sleeping.

Another news bulletin: Harry Styles does not like to let her.

“Let me sleeeeep,” I moaned, rolling over into the pillow and swatting my fingers pathetically at the giant hands that were grabbing at my hips. They were like claws, big massive claws that wanted to scrap against my bare skin and cause me to have some sort of shiver-gasm or innate desire to open my eyes and fling myself at the body attached to said claws.

The claw creature was having none of my attempts at resistance. He let out his throaty roar (or rather raspy giggle) and slid his claws back up and down my bare sides underneath the massive jumper I had yanked on before crawling into bed all those hours ago.

“Noooooooo,” I cried, “I do not like this one bit!”

The creature roared again. This was becoming way too much of a battle for eight in the morning. So I said that.

The creature laughed, “Sut, it’s like four in the afternoon.”

I peeked one eye open, it was still (thankfully) pitch black in the bedroom and all I could see was the halo like glow around the creature’s curly locks from his mobile. “No it’s not. There’s no way. And are you playing Fun Run?”