storms {harry styles - completed}

5

*side note, time is different for each character. for example, i might do elise's perspective, and then kimberly's perspective takes place a week before elise's, even though the chapter might've been released sooner*

*trigger warning - domestic violence and child abuse*

 lilliana's point of view

after we woke up, very hungover, kimberly and i headed back to our house. we continued to sleep for a few hours. i was awoken by the sunlight shining through the cracks of my blinds. i squint my eyes and let out and yawn peacefully, stretching my long arms. i hop out of bed and right into the shower, even though i'll probably end up taking another one in the evening. i didn't drink much, and the tylenol i took washed away my head ache.

after a brief, cool, shower, i get dressed into a nice white lace top, with thin black leggings, so the heat wouldn't affect me. i put on a pair of flip flops, and start to grill bacon and fry eggs. kimberly is snoring softly on the couch, with the last harry potter book half open on her chest.

she fell asleep reading and it's only the second day here! "hey, bedhead, get up!" i yell, shaking her shoulders slightly. her breasts shake slightly when i do that, and i find myself blushing. why was i looking at her light that? it's inappropriate. 

"ugh, okay. mm, i smell bacon!" she yelps, and flawlessly puts her hair in a messy bun. she walks to the kitchen and sits down at the wooden circular table. the damage from her hangover was quite minimal to the sound of sizzling bacon, and the sweet aroma.

"i cook dinner tomorrow then, but tonight is our party, so i'll have louis buy all the food. he's good with that." she says, and i nod profusely. i run over to the kitchen and set the bacon and eggs on a plate for her, and get her a cup of milk, and bring it over to her. she looks me up in the eye and smiles. "thank you, lili. you're a great cook," she smiled, and immediately dug in. she was a pretty clumsy person, and turned around and slid the glass of milk across the table. i lounge over to the end, and catch the glass before it flipped over and spilled. i set it down and we both laugh, and i cut my laugh shorter than hers just to hear the sweet melody.

i've known kimberly my whole life, we met the first day of kindergarten and we immediately connected. the cheeky sleepovers, cute playdates, the tea parties, all of that cliche jazz. 

then, when my dad died when i was eleven, my mom took a turn for the worse. she would hit me, drink herself to misery, and hit me some more. i had to grow the hell up, and make my own dinner, clean the entire house, made sure she went to work every morning. 

we soon moved to a tiny shoe box apartment from her lack of working. we were on welfare and food stamps, and i wanted to yell at her.

we didn't deserve that, she just sat on her ass all day. she wasn't even trying! 

i would go to school in clothes that were too small or torn, with messy hair, and a crappily prepared lunch. i was sleep deprived, i had mysterious cuts and bruises, i was miserable. i kind of distanced myself from everyone, and kimberly grew concerned. i would tell her everything was fine, and she believed me. 

life continued on like that for three years, until my english teacher in the middle school called social services, and they came into my house and asked me questions, and i couldn't contain it.

knock knock.

"lili, someone is at the door, get the fuck up and answer it!" the bitch yelled, sitting her lazy ass on the couch, chugging a bottle of sangria. what if it was a murderer? a kidnapper? 

hah, like she'd give a shit. i glared at the miserable bitch and then i opened the door. the rain pounded hard against the cement outside, and thunder rumbled every so often. i came was face to face with a short woman, who was shorter than fourteen year old me. she had stick straight blond hair and grey eyes, and had a stern look on her face.