I quietly made my way back to the bedroom, the floorboards slightly creaking as I tip-toed up the stairs. I brought the large video camera up to my eye, pressing the small red button to indicate it was recording. I entered the bedroom to find Harry sleeping peacefully, mouth parted. The duvet engulfing his body as he slept on his stomach.
I sat myself on the edge of the bed, feet tucked underneath me. I gently tapped his nose with the pad of my index finger, the bridge of it scrunching up in response. I giggled to myself, using the tip of my finger to push his nostrils up, resembling a pig.
Eyes greeted me through heavy eyelids as a toothless, weary grin spread across rose lips.
"Enjoying yourself?" his guttural voice spoke.
He shifted to his side, eyes widening as he came to realize what I was holding.
"Is that a video camera?" he questioned.
"Yes," I laughed, dragging out the word. "I've had this stuffed away in a box for the longest time, and I now I have some purpose for it."
"To record me?"
"Twenty years from now, when I'm looking back on my life, I'll look at this tape, and say 'hey, that's the guy that was supposed to be a one night stand, but I ended up falling in love with.'"
"Do you not see me watching the tape with you twenty years from now?" The smile on his face had faded, his tone distant while he fumbled with a loosened thread on the sheet.
I sat the camera on the nightstand beside me, settling myself next to him, our bodies facing each other. I nuzzled my nose against his, attempting to receive his attention.
Green locked on hazel as my fingers repeatedly made traces in his hair.
"I love you," I said softly. "With my entire heart. But having expectations means disappointment. And I don't take disappointment well, you know that."
"But why does there have to be disappointment?" The pleading and hopefulness was evident in his voice. "What if we got married and grew old together and got a house on the countryside and sat in our matching rocking chairs on our porch and watched the sunset?"
"That rarely ever happens, Harry."
"Yeah, but what if, Ella? What if?"
I remained silent, a small smile easing onto my lips. "Then I know I've found all I needed when I found you."
He returned the action, his lips meshing into mine before I pulled away.
"You really think about growing old and grey with me?" I joked, grinning.
"I'd grow old and purple with you, if you want."
My smile widened with his words. There was momentary silence as he took a strand of amber hair between his fingers, twirling it.
"Move in with me," he whispered. It was a question mingled with a request, which confused me.
My eyebrows scrunched in disorientation, sitting up on the bed. "Whoa, wait, slow down. We were just talking about growing old, and now you're asking me to move in with you. We're working backwards, Harry."
"That's because we're backwards people," he laughed, perching himself next to me. "We literally did everything in reverse. We had sex the first time I met you, we became friends afterwards, and then we fell in love. You and I both know we don't do things normally."
I wagged my head, chuckling at his logic, which was very true. Rising up from the bed, I walked to my closet.
"I have to go to work."
I slid hangers down the rod, searching for the usual v-neck shirt that I wore. I had them in multiple colors. When I bought them, they were two dollars each so I decided to get one in every color available. I chose a lavender colored shirt, moving to my dresser to obtain a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans.
"Ella, come on," Harry pleaded. "Promise me you'll at least think about it."
I removed the pair of shorts I slept in, noticing a faint red spot on the crotch. I blinked, puzzled. This wasn't supposed to happen until next week. I brushed it off, glancing at the clock sat on the nightstand. I had enough time to take a quick shower.
I shuffled over to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to look back at Harry, who waited expectantly for some type of response.
"Get your heating fixed, and then we can talk," I said, closing the door behind me.
___________________
I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, jumbled with a uncomfortable bubbling consciousness. I braced myself against the counter, hoping the uneasiness would go away so I could continue working.
"El, you alright?" I heard Mitch voice with concern.
I nodded weakly. "I'm fine, my stomach is just - "
My sentence was cut off by a gagging in the back of my throat. I rushed to the employee bathroom, accidentally knocking into someone, hand clamped over my mouth.
I burst open a stall door, hunching over the toilet as a warm putrid sensation rose in my gullet. I involuntarily held on to the bowl, an acidy, bitter taste pervading my mouth. My breath came out in pants as I recomposed myself from the coughing.
I flushed the toilet, not wanting to see what was in it. I stood up, rushing to the sink, pressing the soap dispenser more times than necessary. I scrubbed my hands as if they were buried in dirt, cupping the water to bring it to my mouth. I swished it around in my mouth, spitting it into the sink. I repeated this about five times, making sure my mouth had a decent smell.
I observed myself in the mirror, sighing while pulling out the elastic band that held my hair back to release it. I quickly ran my fingers through it, catching any loose strands before putting it back again.
Using my palms to smooth the homely skirt I was required to wear, I shook my head, almost reprimanding myself.
"Please, please, let this just be a bad day."
- AUTHOR'S NOTE -
uh oh this doesn't sound too good
hey quick question if i were to write another story (which i probably will soon) which boy would you want it to be? comment below and let me know :-)
