Half a Heart || h.s [Bk 2]

One.

~1 and a Half Months Later~

1. More work hours. Check.

2. Own Place. Check.

3. New haircut. Check.

4. Stable amount of Money. Check.

5. Car.

Next was a car, but I didn't really need one at this point.

I was working 8 to 4, Monday to Friday.

I had found my own little apartment, 5 minutes' walk from the café.

I decided if I was going to start fresh, or at least get back to my old self, try something new. So I got my hair cut. Really short. Like, 'I can only use clips' short. (For those who have watched Scream 4, Hayden's hair cut in that. Or even just go with Hazel's hair from The Fault in our Stars.)

And I've made enough money to keep me stable for a good few months, plus the continuous working is keeping that stable.

I woke up that morning and rubbed my eyes before running my fingers through my hair. I smiled lightly and laid back down on the bed, pulling the covers from my body and getting out of bed. I walked down the short hallway and into the kitchen.

I turned the jug on and grabbed my cup from the sink and put the usual tea bag and two sugars. I walked over to the fridge and pulled out the milk, putting it next to my cup. I heard a knock at the door and soon a familiar voice cooed my name.

"Skylar, time to wake up," he sung. I opened the door and met his charming smile.

"Good morning Tristan."

Tristan Hunt. 20 years old, dark blonde hair, light blue eyes, a constant thin layer of stubble, tall, extremely sweet, funny and charming. American. Works with me and lives in the same complex as I do. We met at work and we got along straight away, well I guess you could say that, he found me on my lunch break crying my heart out and we had a long chat, he bought me Chinese food and walked me back to my place. Ever since then he's walked with me to and from work.

"Someone just woke up," he chuckled, playing with a piece of my hair that was surely sticking out.

"Because I don't wake up at the crack of dawn like you, smart ass," I let him inside and he made himself comfortable on the counter across from me.

"So what has the infamous Skylar Thompson got planned for this fine Friday evening?" he smiled widely at me.

"Nothing - Good because you are now coming out, with me, to a club so we can have a bit of fun."

"I-I'm not too sure."

"Oh come on, it'll be fun," he pouted his lips at me.

I sighed and smiled at him, "Fine, I'll go."

"Atta' girl," he jumped off the counter and ruffled my hair. "You go get ready, I'll finish making your tea for you," he nudged me out of the kitchen, showing off a cheeky smile before I gave in and ventured down to my room.

I quickly dressed into my white button-up shirt, black waisted skirt and black flats, I brushed my hair back and clipped back any pieces known to bug me during the day, I applied my usual make-up and sprayed some perfume to pull it all together.

I walked back out into my lounge room to see Tristan on the small balcony out the back sitting with two cups on the table. I walked out and took a seat on the other chair next to the table. He groaned a little when he sat forward a little reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out his packet of smokes and bringing one to his lips.

"Different brand?"

"What?" he mumbled due to the cigarette held securely between his lips.

"Different brand of smokes?"

"Oh, yeah. Since you gave me the whole smoking is bad for you speech," he chuckled lightly, "I bought a packet that I liked, that wasn't so strong," he held the lighter up to the tip of the cigarette and inhaled deeply letting the toxins fill his lungs.

I never told him to quit, I understood why he smoked. His mother passed away when he was 15 and began smoking at the age of 16, he was a bit of a rebel teenager, call it you will. His father never wanted anything to do with him yet let him live in his 'house' until he could move out.

"What time do I need to be ready?" he looked at me and raised his eyebrows before taking the cigarette between his fingers and blowing out the smoke.

"Nine would be fabulous, darling," he spoke in his terrible posh accent, flicking his wrist down, pointing at me.

"Nine it is," I nodded, trying to hold back my laughter. "But now we need to finish our tea and coffee so we can get to work."

"You need to get a travel mug, like seriously Sky. You work in a god damn coffee shop and you don't even own one," he smirks down at me.

"Do you own one?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

"W-well not exactly bu- No buts," I held a finger up.

"You buy one, I'll buy one," I nodded at him with a grin before drinking my tea and pouring the remaining quarter into a plant.

"Deal," he nodded firmly and chugged down his coffee.

We both walked inside and I grabbed my bag while he put our cups into a sink. We left my apartment and we were on our way to work.

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Short I know but it's better than nothing, I would have more but I had my first shift at work today.

So what do you all think of Tristan? Good? Bad? What do you think or want to happen?

Please comment, vote and share to your heart's content my darlings x

Lots of love from,

~xHarrysxCuppyCakex