Raining on the Bad Boy

Now it's a Happy Birthday

#1 draft published 17/11/16

Hey guyssss... please don't throw tomatoes at me for being the worst at uploading ever!

I don't even know how it's possible that I've got 4.5 thousand reads considering I'm so shitty at doing this regularly, but I'm so frigging grateful! Thanks to anyone who has kept up! Much love xxxx

Beatrice's POV

This was an inescapable problem. It wasn't that we had had a small lovers spat - it was that our whole ideals were completely contradicting.

How could I have allowed myself to fall in love with someone that wanted everything I didn't like? Well, I think, I didn't allow myself to, I just couldn't stop it.

For a time longer than I care to admit I contemplate whether I would be willing to live my life the way Warren had 'planned'. Could I be a mother, owning a home with a white picket fence, going to work everyday, in a job that I have no interest in but I must because "someone has to pay the bills". The answer was a resounding no.

I have never firmly decided that I will never have children. The idea had just always been in my mind that, I will not have a child until I feel the need to have one. Until that point I will not think about it just because it is tradition to have children.

The door had slammed after Warren had left, being forced by the wind rather than his anger, and it had left a heavy silence in its wake. Fortunately the silence was broken by the sound of my brother's hesitant footsteps on our stairs. Then the feeling of his warm, familiar hands were on my shoulders.

"Did you hear?" I whisper, as if I'm scared that if I say anything too loudly I could screw this up even further.

"Yeah, it was hard not to," Will soothes, moving his hands from his shoulder and moving to in front me and tries to pull me into a hug, but I flinch away from his grasp and move to go upstairs.

"I'll speak to you later," I choke out with a tremor. Once I get to my bedroom it seems too quiet and the window was left open leaving it frigidly cold.

My eyes glaze over as I slide off my jeans and remove my bra from under my t-shirt. I then grasp the ends of my quilt and yank it off in a harsh motion, letting it tumble to the floor. My face still holds the same lifeless pose of neutrality as I crawl onto my mattress slowly.

Lying, motionless, I allow the frigid air to filter into the room and kiss my bare skin. I don't think I would be able to say why I wanted to be this could and exposed, maybe I just wanted to be aware of how alone I was. To be aware of the large, warm body that is no longer cocooning my own.

******

"Happy Birthday to you," breaks through my dreams, "happy birthday to you," when did I set that as my alarm?

"Happy Birthday to Beaaa - happy birthday to you!"

I sit up in bed with a start to find my mum and brother standing in my room with my cake, my brother some what uninterested, with the room painted with the odd hue of the wan light from behind my curtains and the burning candles. There's a moment where I sit in confusion and my mother just smiles at me fondly until it registers...

Today is my 18th birthday! But then my second thought of the day registers: my fight with Warren.

I smile weakly at my mother and try to appreciate that I'm an adult now but there is still a nagging in the back of my head.

"Yayyyy! Thanks momma!" I say once the singing concludes and she smiles back at me with her familiar warm teeth, the kind with more pointed canines.