Sweet Creature h.s au

Six

This chapter's dedicated to the lovely __ificouldfly, xo

"There is a swelling storm
And I'm caught up in the middle of it all"

- Waves, Dean Lewis

Elle

My eyes flutter open to a dark and quiet room, a contrast to what I'd remembered falling asleep to. I look to the illuminated clock hanging on the wall infront of my bed, groaning at the realisation that I'd slept almost all day, being almost 6 pm. Assuming Harry moved us to my bed, my hands immediately shoot out to find him, reaching around only to find empty space all round, my chest constricting at the thought of him leaving without so much as a goodbye.

I inhale and exhale slowly trying to keep my panic at bay, rolling out of bed before padding my way out of my small bedroom. I look around hoping to see Harry laid down on my couch watching some shitty Netflix show or perched up on one of my dingy barstools having a bite but I was hit with a wave of disappointment to find it just as empty as the side of his bed he had claimed as his the few nights he had slept over.

The thought of today's events giving Harry a reality check that maybe getting involved with a girl he barely knew was a bad day panics me for a second before I realize I'd had the exact same thought this morning. Maybe he was better of staying away from me.

I don't realize I'm crying until I feel myself sniffle and then it's all downhill from there.

My knees hit the floor before I'm crouched over on the floor, emotions running wild– not only at Harry's supposed departure but at everything I knew would come my way with Dom's reappearance. I rub at my eyes trying to stop the tears, not liking the way I was constantly crying today, my periods making me over-emotional on top of everything else.

And as I wrap my hands around my knees rocking myself back and forth in the middle of my living room, I realize how fucking shitty this entire day has been.

Harry

"Dad?" I call out as I step into my house, the eerie quiet making my skin crawl. I wouldn't get used to how much this house never felt like a home, I realize, feeling the same emptiness I feel every time I walk through these doors. Unknowing of what was waiting for me inside, I pass the foyer and head straight into the living room hoping to find him sat in front of the TV watching some game, beckoning me to come join before handing me a beer.

But like always, disappointment hits when I see him sprawled out on the couch, a game was playing on the TV– yes, an empty bottle of Whiskey hanging loosely from his hand that was dangling, loud snores escaping his lips. With the reassurance that he was very much alive, I make sure my footsteps are quiet as I tiredly make my way upstairs to my room.

It was like the entire day had drained me, my fingers working to discard my clothes as I step into the shower letting the warm water soothe me.

As I stand under the running water, my thoughts drift back to Ella and frown at the thought of her being alone in her house knowing that creep could show up any time.

Despite my reluctance to leave this evening, after sitting through several episodes of Black Mirror letting Ella sleep on me, the paranoia I always seemed to have in the back of my head about my dad drinking himself to death clouded my head. And before I knew it I was carrying her back to bed, writing her a note letting her know of my whereabouts, hastily making my way out her door.