Marvels Of Fate

Being High Isn't Always A Bad Thing

"Good morning." Kate says, entering the kitchen. She's rubbing her sleep filled eyes with the heels of her hands, as she seats herself on the bar stool opposite mine.
"Want some pancakes?" I ask, sliding my plate toward her. She nods her head and picks one up,syrup leaking down her arm. "The hell, Kate!" I exclaim, getting up to grab some tissues.
"Stop fucking screaming!" Harry's sleep induced tone comes from upstairs.
"Shift into a fucking hotel!" I yell back, anger bubbling inside me. Silence. Kate stares at me with a mouth full of pancakes. I shrug my shoulders and hand her a bunch of paper towels. Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots thudding fills the house. Harry's backside comes into view, as he marches toward the front door - a black bag in hand - and exits; slamming the door behind him.
"Fuck you!" Rain screeches, clambering down the stairs in six inch pink stilettos. She shows me the middle finger, before making a grand exit as well. Kate and I stare at each other in utter confusion, frowning.
"Well, that was interesting." Kate says, taking another large bite of the pancake that's in her hand.
"Yup," I murmur. "I'm heading upstairs." I trudge towards the stairs, my phone in hand. Why the fuck is Harry so moody nowadays? I mean, is he pmsing or something?
"Where'd Harry go?" Liam asks me, as we cross paths; he's heading toward the kitchen and I'm moving upstairs.
"He probably went to a fucking hotel." I say, continuing on my way. Suddenly, my phone rings in my hand, startling me. I look down at the screen to find Carter's name lighting it up. Oh my fucking lord, I'm not in the mood to converse with him right now. Internally groaning, I enter my room and slam the door shut behind me. I rather talk to him now and get it over with.
"Hi." I say, answering the call.
"Hey, babe!" Carter's voice seeps into my ear. "How're you doing? It's like you've gone missing."
"Maybe I want to," I murmur. "I'm...well."
"Why the pause?" Carter lets out a short bark of laughter. "You sound tired and sick of life. Kate not treating you well?"
"No, nothing like that. Late night, early morning."
"Ah, that explains everything." Carter empathizes. I'm sure he can relate because half of the time, Carter's out late, and has to go to office early in the morning. However, I didn't have a late night. Just a tiring, argumentative one. "What're your plans for today?"
"Um...We'll probably go out." I open my closet and take out a pair of ripped jeans. "I also have to buy a gift for the little ones."
"Sweet. Buy one from my side too." I roll my eyes at Carter's disinterested tone.
"Will do. Listen, I've gotta go now. Bye." I end the call before he can get another word in. I chuck my phone onto the bed and focus all my attention into finding a suitable top for myself, according to today's weather.
********
"Break," Kate fake pants. I chuckle at her condition. Kate's practically sweating like a pig. Oh, the perks of being pregnant.
"Okay, let's go into Starbucks." I say, pointing my chin toward the place. Kate nods her head and eagerly waddles toward Starbucks. I bite my lip to suppress my smile, as I follow close behind her heels. After we've settled ourselves and gotten our drinks and snacks, Kate folds her arms onto the table and stares at me.
"What?" I ask her, as I mix the contents of my drink with the straw.
"You've...There's something, Mus, about your face. It's a permanent sadness, I believe." Kate says, her eyes flitting across my face.
"Permanent sadness?" I let out a short bark of laughter. "And why would you think that?"
"Because I've known you, for what, ten years now?"
"Maybe eight," I shrug my shoulders.
"Oh, shut up!" I chuckle and Kate offers me a small smile. "You've got this look nowadays, I don't even know what it is." This time she shrugs and diverts her gaze to her drink.
"Kate, I'm going to change the subject." I announce. "Tell me what can I get for the tiny ankle-biters?"
"Ankle-biters?" Kate laughs. "Nice name, Mus. Honestly, I don't know. I, myself, haven't bought much stuff for them. Just the basics, cot, pram, a couple of toys."
"Oh please," I flick my wrist. "I've seen the stack of boxes Liam keeps hidden in the basement."
"That's all his doing. Not mine." Kate raises her palms, showing her innocence.
"He's gonna be an amazing father, Kate. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."
"I hope he is, because here's a little secret, I don't think I'll be very good at this parenting business." Kate throws her head back and laughs.
"Two letters: BS. You're gonna rock this mother business, I bet."
"Ah, sure I will. I guess, time will tell." Kate says, biting her lip in nervousness.
"Yes it will and I'll be right, you'll see."
"Oh, Mus, I almost forgot to tell you!" Kate exclaims, leaning in. "Liam and I are going out for date night tonight. You'll be fine all alone for a while, right?"
"No mama, the shadows scare me." I say, mimicking a little girl. Kate chuckles and so do I. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Enjoy yourselves, love birds." She places her hand over mine and gives it a tight squeeze.
********
"No don't!" I exclaim, as the hooded man takes the Flash by surprise. "Shit," I hiss. The sound dims down slightly, as everything moves in slow motion. I frown, as the sound of a lock turning enters my ears. I mute the tv, wondering if it's coming from downstairs. I scramble off the bed, as I realize it is coming from the front door. But who could it be at this hour? I mean, Liam and Kate have barely been gone for half an hour and they said they'll be back around 12 or 1. I tiptoe towards the door, picking up the Mortein Spray can on my way to it. Hesitantly, and as quietly as I can, I open the door. Keeping it slightly ajar, I make my way to the top of the stairs. Whoever is outside is still trying to unlock the door. I creep down the stairs, can gripped tightly in my hand. I slip into the kitchen, and pull out a knife from the knife block. Both weapons in hand, I make my way back into the foyer and take my place behind the door. Whoever is outside really doesn't know how to handle locks, as they're still hard at work with this one.
"Calm, deep breaths." I murmur to myself, trying to calm myself down. Finally, the person outside manages to unlock the door. I hear the click, just as the door swings backwards slightly.
"Fuck," the man outside hisses. He gives the door a hard shove, making me jump out from behind the door and in front of the threshold. I lift both objects, ready to strike. However, when my eyes land on the person entering the house, both weapons clatter onto the ground, beside my feet.
"The fuck, Harry?!" I hiss, as he stumbles straight onto me.
"Yuck, move away. Get off me!" Harry yells, taking a few steps back. He turns around and slams into the wall.
"What the hell are you up to?" I question, frowning. He turns back around and this time I notice his bloodshot eyes and the cigarette in his hand. "Have you been drinking?" I question.
"Nope, not one bit. Weeding, that's what I've been up to." Harry gives me a crooked smile and falls onto the ground.
"Weeding?!" I exclaim, jumping back, as he reaches for my ankles.
"A tissue, a tissue, and we all fall down." Harry sings, yanking me onto the ground next to him. I groan, as my shoulder hits the hard wooden floor.
"You're high?" I question, as I push myself up with the heels of my hand.
"No, I've been out weeding in the garden." Harry replies sarcastically, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Yes, Mus, I've been out getting high."
"No shit, Sherlock!" I roll my eyes.
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Rhetorical," I murmur. "Never mind, Harry. You need to go to bed. Come, let's go upstairs."
"The fuck no! I need food." Harry gets up and stumbles toward the kitchen. I follow him, after picking up my dropped weapons.
"You're in no condition to cook. Go to sleep and we'll have a nice long breakfast tomorrow."
"No, I want food. And I want it now," Harry says stubbornly. His shoulder slams into the wall, as he enters the kitchen.
"Goddammit! What the heck are you doing?!" I yell, slamming the can onto the counter.
"Making myself lunch, breakfast and dinner." Harry says, yanking open the fridge door. He buries his head inside it.
"You haven't eaten all day?" I question, placing the knife back. Harry looks at me over the fridge door.
"No, honey, I haven't. Get with the program!" Harry steps away from the fridge with a huge bottle of water and orange juice tucked neatly under his arm.
"What do you want to eat? I can make something," I offer. "Omelette and toast?"
"Yuck, no!"
"Pancakes? Waffles? Sandwich?"
"Yum. Pancakes, sandwich and...cake." Harry says, slamming his front into the bar counter.
"What're you...just sit down!" I yell, pointing to the stools. Harry turns around, shows me the middle finger and makes his way over to the stools. He seats himself quietly and takes another drag of the cigarette.
"Stop smoking," I say sternly. He looks at me as if I'm stupid, making me arch an eyebrow. Pouting, Harry extinguishes the cig on the counter. "Good job," I murmur. "Now you've ruined her counter." He smirks and glances down at the counter top.
"Fuck, we're fucked." Harry says, slamming his head onto the counter.
"Stop that, will you?!" I yell at him, pouting. "I won't make you food otherwise." I threaten, stopping my tasks midway.
"Sorry, Ma'am." Harry mumbles, resting his head on the counter. He shuts his eyes and sighs. "Work faster."
"Goddammit, Harry, I'm not your maid! Firstly, I'm doing a good deed here, so don't push it." I rant, slamming the bowl onto the counter.
"Sorry, Madam. Someone's pmsing today." Harry sticks out his tongue at me, eyes still shut.
"No, she's not." I defend myself, turning on the heat. As I pour some of the batter onto the pan, I glance over at Harry. His eyes are still shut and a stray curl has found its way onto his eye. Right now he seems so peaceful and calm, nothing like the person he has turned into. "What happened?" I wonder out loud.
"You," Harry replies. I frown, my eyes flitting over to him once again. His eyes are still shut and I don't think he said anything. It was probably just my imagination. I shrug my shoulders and continue making pancakes. "I hate myself." This time it was surely Harry. His eyes are partially open and he's staring at his hand. "I've started to hate myself, Mus. Don't wanna be this person anymore."
"What person, Harry?" I question, leaning against the counter. He moistens his lips before answering.
"This man who's always high and smokes ten cigarettes in a day. But you know...Maybe, these bad habits will knock me off sooner."
"Don't say that!" I chide Haz. "That's a horrid thought."
"What's the point? Of me living?" Harry sniffs, making me narrow my eyes at him.
"Are you crying?" I ask, flipping over the pancake.
"No, big men don't cry." I scoff, shaking my head.
"Don't be such a sexist."
"I slapped a woman six months ago. Hate myself," Harry whispers. I frown.
"You slapped a woman? Why?"
"She was being a bitch. But she didn't deserve that red mark that I gave her," Harry confesses. "No one does." I don't say anything. Instead I ponder over what Harry just told me. He slapped a woman. It's hard to believe that the Harry I knew years ago would be capable of doing so. But this Harry...I don't even know anymore.
"Here, begin." I say, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of Harry. He lifts his head up and grins, like a child.
"Thanks," Harry says.
"Eat up and then go to bed." I saunter towards the stairs.
"You're leaving?" Harry calls out from behind me.
"I'm tired, let me go to bed." I say, and as if on cue, a yawn escapes my lips.
"Please just sit with me for a few minutes." Harry pats the stool next to him. I stare at the stool hesitantly, before I oblige. I place my head onto the counter, as Harry continues to gobble up the pancakes. "Your hair's become lighter." Harry comments, passing one hand through my hair.
"The results of being in the sun for too long," I reply. Another yawn escapes me, making me shut my eyes.