Torn (harry styles)

45- Tattoo Parlour

When I wake up, the first thing I do is check the time. It is 11'am so I have an hour until Harry comes to pick me up.

I wonder sleepily downstairs and into my mums antique style bedroom. There she lies, in her bed. The sound of her calm breathing filling the air. When my pressence is fully in the room, her eyes open loosely and she smiles at me. I smile back,

"Hi mum." I say. "Hello sweetie." She responds, sleep fogging her voice.

She props her thin frame up on her pillow and a small but certain frown dents her happy features.

"Shouldn't you be getting some rest? After the surgery and all you must need it."

She's right, the doctor did advise i sleep on things. But I have plans that I would rather do than just sleep.

"No, I'm fine. I'm going out at lunchtime anyway so there's no point in going back to sleep." I tell her. Her small frown grows, and aggitation grows inside me.

"Darling, that doesn't sound right to me. You were in hopsital just days ago and you should be resting. Surgery is a big deal and I think me of all people knows all about it." Her words frustrate me further.

"Sorry mum, but just because you like to spend days on end lying in bed having everyone else tend to your every need. I would rather go out and do something with my life." I snap, damn my short temper.

Her features crumple with sadness and I instantly feel bad.

"Do something with your life? What like throw away a healthy relationship for some punk?"

Some punk? Well mother, that some punk happens to mean everything to me.

My chest is so tight, my eyes are tearing over. I can't help but feel incredibly angry, she knows nothing. I thought I explained to her that Dexter was an arsehole? How can she still be siding with him?

"I'm sorry." I strain out of my high pressured chest. I am sorry, but I don't take back what I said.

Okay, maybe i shouldnt have said it. I know that, it came out of no where and it was very unnessary of me. However, I would regret it more if she hadn't of called Harry a punk!

I walk into the kitchen and put some toast in the toaster, I stand blankly while I wait for it so pop. War breaking out in my head. War and disbelief. I never, ever argue with my mum.

The toaster makes me jump as two crispy pieces of toast emerge from it.

I grab them and spread some jam across them before heading up stairs. Taking bites from them with each step.

I get into my room and check my phone. A small buzz of disappointment hits me when I see that Harry hasn't texted me. It's not that he should of or even that he had a reason to, it's just i would have liked it.

Maybe I should text him? No... I will sound too desperate.

When I finish my toast I begin getting ready. 11:15, I'm cutting time pretty short.

I slip on a pair of high wasted black jeans and a white vest. I grab my large denim jacket and put that on too.

For my hair I just brush it and add some extra curls. Luckily for me I'm having a good hair day today and it actually looks quite nice.

I take a small piece if hair from each side of the hair that frames my face, and put them into two small braids, then join them at the back of my head.

I actually look pretty presentable.

I decide not to wear any makeup, surprisingly I don't look tired. I guess it's cause I was knocked out on sleeping gas only yesterday. Feels like longer.