Addiction

chapter fifteen

HELLO ALL!

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HARPERS POV:

“Argh hurry up!” I scold; face red, also holding my breath.

“Nearly,” he puffs from above me. “Hoist me a tad higher.”

I’m currently trying to push Blake’s ass into my bedroom window, hanging off the side of my two-storey house, supported by a bin and a random water pipe running down it... he’s not that light I can give you that.

All of my strength runs to my arms as I push him forcefully for my last attempt to get him in. A loud thump is made and immediate pressure has been released off my arms and body.

He’s in my room. Thank god.

Blake tugs at my arm and lifts me up with ease. Falling in and standing up I immediately freeze, I’ve missed my room. Not this fucked up house and the people in it... my tranquillity filled room.

The torn and worn scraps of paper with sincere and relevant echoes of script sprawled across them flood my roof. I automatically like Blake a heap more for doing this. It’s so pure, and I’m one-hundred percent thankful for him letting me bring a piece of my old home to my new. His flat has felt more like home than my own ever has.

I tear up at the thought of my literature and Blake, so I leap onto him.

Great.

He’s taken back by my sudden movement, then softens once he hears me sniffle.

“C’mon you sook,” he hushes whilst chuckling, holding me in a firm cologne filled hug, swaying me side to side.

“Why am I crying?” I hiccup loudly. He laughs again, “I have no fucking clue.” Blake pushes me out gently in front of him and holds my shoulders, shaking his head with a visible smirk.

“You stand on your bed and start pulling them down, I’ll start over near the door,” he says, his voice husky and prominent.

“Wait, c’mere for a sec,” I blurt while wiping my eyes, gesturing him over to my bed. “Lie down with me.”

He climbs onto my bed, I do also, directing him to lie on his back and look up.

“Shit,” he murmurs, adoring the display on the roof that I love very much.

I seek out a quote, then we soon start to exchange our favourite ones that we spot.

“Expectation is the root of all heartache,” He tells, voice soaked with emotion.

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams that no mortal ever dared to dream before.”

“How can you even see that?” he questions, gaping at the length away from me and the roof.

I giggle, still intensely focused on the roof. “It’s been there for a while and I remember putting it in that exact spot.”

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

“Yeah Blake, listen to Winston Churchill,” I say sarcastically but he knows what I’m talking about.

We just gaze helplessly at the roof, contently sharing our favourites and most relatable.

“Oh, what a bitter thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes.”

“You think you’re in love, but you just want to be loved.” This daunts me every time, always have.

“That is the biggest condradictment ever Harper. Everyone wants to be loved? Hence why there in love... No thinking. No questions asked,” he huffs, taking it somewhat personally.