We get home at about four in the morning. I fall asleep in the car without meaning to, and Harry ends up carrying me inside without my knowing. I wake up as he's carrying me up the stairs, his footsteps quiet, trying not to wake my parents up.
"Hey," he whispers once he sees my eyes are open. I look up at him, blinking.
"I'm sorry about earlier," he says, walking us into my room. He gently puts me on my feet while he walks to the window to shut the curtains. I yawn and nod, not really caring about what happened earlier at the moment because I'm so tired. Although, I'm still embarrassed about the sex issue, and I'm still disappointed in Harry for having killed Storm, and keeping it from me for this long. Tonight's been a long night, and all of the new information is a lot to take in at once.
"Are you sleeping in that?" Harry laughs when he notices me just standing there. He lifts his shirt up and over his head, showing off his beautiful body that never ceases to amaze me.
I shrug, just pulling off my jeans and leaving just my pink hoodie on. Harry smiles at me as he pulls the covers back and lays down on my bed, his arms extended from his body, welcoming me.
I sleepily climb into bed with him, choosing to just climb completely onto him and lay my head on his chest. He pulls the blankets up and over us, and begins rubbing small circles into the small of my back.
"I love you," I just barely hear him whisper as I drift off to sleep.
********************
When I wake up the next morning, Harry isn't in my room with me. My first instinct is to be scared, because he's usually with me in the mornings when I wake up. I sit up in bed, glancing around the room.
Everything is normal: clothes lay strewn across the floor, books and paper and other things for school are all over the place as well. Sunlight streams in through the closed blinds, making rectangular designs on the wood flooring.
I push the covers back and hop out of bed, immediately shivering. I walk into the bathroom, wondering if Harry's in there, perhaps starting my bath water like he sometimes does, although he's never done it in the morning.
Harry's not in the bathroom either. He must not be here at all. I can't help but to be worried. Why would he leave with out telling me?
I walk back out of the bathroom, and back into my bedroom to slip some joggers on. I try to keep my mind off Harry for as long a time as possible. I hope he didn't get mad about what happened last night and just leave me.
I walk down the hall and into my studio, greeted by my forgotten paintings. I'd been so caught up in Harry and Storm and everything in between that I hadn't had much time to paint.
I decide to start fresh with a clean canvas. I gather my paints and brushes, already having set in mind what I would be painting. As I walk to get a certain brush, I notice one of my bottles of liquor I had hidden a few months ago. One that Harry didn't smash like the other.
I decide it wouldn't hurt to drink a little, after all, Harry's not here to stop me, and as far as I know, my parents aren't awake. I sigh as I twist the lid off, loving the familiar heaviness of the glass bottle in my hand.
I take small sips of the strong liquid as I set up the canvas and paints on my easel. I decide to paint the sky first, and paint the whole canvas a soft, dreamy shade of blue. My vision blurs slightly as I add whisps of white as the clouds.
I begin gulping down large amounts of the liquor now, letting the alcohol take over me. Harry's not here to stop me. I'm glad. It feels good to let loose and do what I want.
At the bottom of the canvas, I add green, curving the brush, making a hill. I use whispy strokes to make blades of grass, filling in the area.
More liquor. My head begins to spin, and I begin to somewhat regret the decision of drinking. I'll have a massive headache later, but I shake it off for now.
I make four figures on top of the hill, two boys and two girls. The boys look just alike, except one is taller than the other. Harry and Bennett.
The girls' long hair billows out behind them, and they look alike, except, just like the boys, one is taller than the other. Plus, one girl's hair is darker than the other's. Me and Addison.
I finish off the details of the figures, and I finish off the bottle of liquor. By this point, I'm drunk out of my mind. The room is spinning, and I can't form a coherent thought. I try to gently sit the bottle of liquor on the floor by my easel, only for it to topple over on its side due to my jitteriness.
I stumble over to the window, unlocking it and raising the glass to let in some fresh air. I sigh, breathing in the crisp winter air. I notice that the snow has stopped, but by the looks of the sky, not for long.
As I'm thinking about the snow, I hear thudding noises. At first I think it's my head pounding from the amount of liquor I drank, but then I remember that you can't hear a headache. My brows furrow as I listen closer.
I realize that the thuds were actually the sound of someone coming up the stairs. I laugh at my stupidity, but I can't think clearly. I turn around to see my mother come into my studio, with a grim expression on her face. Her eyes are filled with what I can only identify as hatred.
I furrow my brows. I hate it when people come in here and look at my paintings.
"Mom? Get out, you know I don't like people in he-"
She cuts me off. "Been drinking? I can barely understand a word you say," she spits, frowning. I mimic her frown and cross my arms, wondering what she's doing.
She takes a few short steps toward me, and slowly bends down.
What is she doing? I think to myself. My thoughts are answered when she grabs the empty liquor bottle in her small hand.
I watch her closely as she takes small steps toward me. Her eyes travel behind me, outside. She lifts a hand, pointing. I turn around and look to see what she's pointing at, but don't see anything. I'm about to turn around and ask her what she was pointing at when I feel the heavy liquor bottle smash into the back of my skull.
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