Silver Roses [h.f-t. & j.l.] (ON HOLD)

Chapter 2 - Re: Stacks

re: stacks - bon iver

"Do miracles exist? At this moment in my life, I don't believe they do. If they did, my mom would be alive. My dad would be here instead of throwing himself into his work again. And I would be back in London in college, passing all of my classes with flying colors. My mum would've lived. She would have survived her sickness and she'd still be here- in a time when I need her most. I'd know where my place was in this world. I think miracles exist for some people. I think miracles are worth believing in. But I'm waiting for my miracle. And after 19 years of disappointment- I can't say that I have any hope for a miracle anymore."

hero

I had started to kind of like the room I was staying in. In the first couple of days, I had to force myself to not rip the purple-ish paneling from the walls and rip it to shreds with my bare hands but now it had kind of grown on me. It reminded me of something even though my mind couldn't really grasp what it was. I didn't really bother to let myself think about it too much, just enjoying the relaxation that it brought me, staring at it for hours. My aunt hasn't said anything about me not doing anything than going straight to my room after every meal for the past 4 days that a part of wished she did already. I didn't want to do anything, but I also didn't want to do nothing at all.

The few books that were scattered in the drawers in my room were either boring or way too intense. It kind of reminded me why I didn't usually read anything than the backside of a cereal box. I forced myself to read them anyway because there wasn't anything I could do anyway, and I was growing tired of being alone in my thoughts that reading about someone else's seemed like a good idea. I also wanted to drown out this feeling that started of forming where I was starting to pity myself.

The daily routine I had slipped into was broken apart on the fifth day of my stay in Australia when my curtains were being ripped open at about 7 in the morning.

"What the hell?" My words came out muffled as I pressed my face further into my pillow, trying to escape the bright sunbeams that were now streaming on my bare back.

"Get up, Hero. I gave you the time to adjust, which you didn't use by the way, so if you're not moving your ass yourself than I'll give you no choice." My aunt says. I feel the blanket being ripped away from my body and I groan which made my aunt chuckle. Nice to know she thinks this is funny.

"Fuck." I breathe out as I hear her footsteps indicating that she left the room. I wasn't feeling as tired as I pretended to be as I sat up and ran my hands over my face. After 5 days of not shaving, I already started to feel itchy and decided that was the reason why I should get up instead of laying back down and just ignoring my aunt cursing me out if I did that. Getting up I lazily grabbed a new pair of shorts and my usual sweatpants before slipping in the little bathroom next door, locking the door just in case. My aunt had told me countless times the past few days that she had an endless supply of hot water so I could take my time, but I took a cold one anyway. Some people went for a hot shower to loosen their tense muscles but lately what I needed was something to keep me from falling forward.

My aunt's shaving cream was scented and I scrunched up my nose when the sweet smell hit me as I rubbed the cream on my cheeks. Fortunately for me, I had brought my own razor so it only took me a few minutes to get my usual clean-cut look and as I looked up after rinsing my face with water I found myself staring into my own eyes for a second. I had never really noticed before how dull the had become. A knock on the bathroom door made me jump a bit but I quickly gather myself to shout: "Give me a minute." With one last look at myself, I rub my towel over my face and unlock the door.

"Jesus." I hiss when I was met face to face with my aunt, who was wearing a way to big smile as she shoves a piece of clothing against my chest.

"I had to guess your size so hopefully it fits." She says as she watched me unfold the shirt. It's the same as the one the redhead wore when my aunt had first shown me the Mari's, but it was clearly the male version of it, the wide round neckline missing.