Late (p.w)

nineteen - mint & opa

sitting on the edge of lily's bed, the winner of cutthroat kitchen is just about to be announced when suddenly the tv goes black.

"hey, why'd you turn off the tv." i grumble towards her.

"i'm giving you as small screen time as possible because the light from the tv makes you not able to sleep, i saw that on the internet, we're also gonna go to addison mall, since it's the only one not closed and then we're going to eat, so hopefully you'll be super exhausted by the end of the day and you'll be able to crash on the spot." she unravels her plan.

"i told you, i am getting sleep." i whine.

"one hour of sleep, 5 times a day doesn't count, i'm talking about having continuous rest." she enunciates.

listening to my routine aloud made it sound a lot more ridiculous, than i thought it was, and whether it's silly or not, it works so i'll continue it as long as i need to.

my dreams, well night terrors, have been having a few recurring themes as of late. during the beginning of this week, my subconscious thoughts were riddled with what i think mikes' death would've looked like. i also was constantly dreaming of a sociopathic, angry, ashton on the loose looking for harry for revenge.

although one day, my dream happened to be quite pleasant. most likely because it was just harry and i in it. ironically the best dream last week is the one i happen to remember the least, but the small little moments, like harry and i taking a midnight walk
safely, us and my mom running the shop together, and even us kissing here and there, makes me cling to the hope that these nightmares will subside eventually.

until then i'll be having my one hour naps, five times a day, to prevent me from entering R.E.M.

"go get ready, i'm gonna go to the kitchen." she says. i act on her demand and lazily drag myself to the washroom to freshen up. once i enter the bathroom and lock the door, i take a good look at my current appearance and i get a little startled.

my undereye area has darkened significantly, and my already chapped lips seem pale as well. i can't help but think that i kind of look like dylan. maybe all the drugs and violence is draining him out too, harry did talk about zayn being a good guy and i definitely believe him on that, and i know dylan has that scar, but something tells me both of them are a lot more humane than harry.

speaking of the devil himself, i haven't called him since the last time we spoke, and surprisingly enough, he hasn't called me neither, and i'm not sure whether he's doing it out of respect or if he simply doesn't care anymore. either way it hurts.

i throw my hair into a high ponytail and quickly braid it, then i wrap it in a bun. i'm not really in the mood to look on point or anything like that, but this style has became a new favourite of mine, since it's easy to do and makes me not look homeless like my usual messy bun does.

i hear light footsteps tread up stairs followed by the bathroom door opening.

"can you hurry up and change." lily says impatiently.

i still have toothpaste in my mouth, so i spit the white foam out and say, "i'm done."

lily looks me up and down, probably not approving of my outfit choice which is a day old white t-shirt and a week old, stained pair of grey sweatpants. her face remains soft but pity for me can be read all over it.

"i know i look like death." i say monotoned.

"i wasn't going to say that, you look like your fifteen year old self, and that you have some tooth paste at the corner of your mouth." she infers.

"well i'm feeling a lot like her." i reply as i wipe the corners of my mouth.

i follow her outside the bathroom and downstairs where she grabs her mom's car keys and her face instantly lights up, she's been wanting to drive for as long as i can remember and now that she has her learners permit she in her own words "basically has her drivers license".