Hate Me Love Me

43| New Year Surprises 🎇

AN: Hey! I've just been planning more of the storyline to make it more, uh, interesting I guess. This is a long chapter, but it's pretty important. There's a surprise at the end too! I hope you like it. I had to do some serious thinking about the idea of the painting. You'll see ;p.

LIKE AND COMMENT!

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍

"The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step" --- Lao Tzu.

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍

Valerie Dornan

The thinnest, freshest ray of early morning sunlight sneaks in through my curtains and gets caught on my chest. As they increase in number and brightness, I decide to be productive - tomorrow is New Year's Eve after all. I wake up while the rest of the house is asleep and go to the bathroom.

I check my phone and smile at the happy messages from Lola and Madison. They called me last night and told me that "miraculously" they're allowed to be together again. I can't help but wonder if Alaric helped with the reporter business after I spoke to Lola's dad.

My dad bought me some body-care supplies earlier that I use, and by the time I'm ready in my jeans pinafore and yellow cotton leggings that have socks attached, there's still no sound of life.

I head to my room and open up my closet where I've hidden the pile of cylindrical boxes Alaric gave me. When I remove the clothes piled on top, a small mountain of Venus ET Fleur rose boxes is revealed.

Each of these boxes have roses in different colours in them. They're arranged in patterns, so when I take the lid off, I see a heart. My chest tightens as I stare at the boxes. To open them is a tempting offer, but I know it would just make things worse.

I'm aware that they cost around three-hundred dollars each. And there're around 9 in my closet. They apparently last for a whole year, but I have no idea what to do with them for that long. What do people normally do with them? Put them around their rooms? Throw them out? Use them in exotic cuisine?

I decide to take them downstairs and leave them on the kitchen countertop so someone else can deal with them.

But when I'm on the lowest step of the stairs, I hear a door opening, slamming closed and hurried footsteps.

Megan's head appears in the doorway a few seconds later. She's in her long pyjamas and a woolly jacket. Her face is red from the cold and her hair is an unnatural mess.

When she sees me, her eyes widen. They're wet and red.

Curiosity takes my hand and walks with me to the front door. I poke my head out into the wintery white land and-

-Alaric?

He's in my driveway.

He's here.

Has he been here all night?

I step out, ignoring the snow beneath my feet, and try to figure out if my eyes are playing tricks on me. Alaric is wearing the same clothes from the previous night and his car is parked in the same place he dropped me off - around 3 meters away from the house.

His back is to me and I watch as he takes one two three four steps to his car and sits in it. I jump involuntarily when he bangs his door shut and looks to the street ahead. His hair is dishevelled and his clothes are visibly crumpled. He rests his head on the top of his steering wheel and from the slight rise and fall of his back, I can tell he's taking deep breaths.

And then his head rotates and his eyes catch mine. The first thing I notice is the circles beneath his eyes and the furrow of his brows.

This look alone tells me so much. I can see the pent up frustration of things he's been through - things that nobody should have to go through. All his feelings turn into anger and maybe he believes that the only way to release it is to either physically exert himself, or through irate conversations.