Mr. Badass

Save it for the bedroom

I never thought that a bad boy could be so good.

Or that something so wrong could feel so right, my father wouldn't allow this. he wouldn't allow and contact between me and the outside world if he had his own way.

I've been locked away before. in the cupboard under the stairs, sort of like Harry potter but I don't have any magical powers.

Yet...

I guess that they do have pretty good food in hogwarts and I love a good old slice of cake.

And those hats. I need me one of those talking hats. you could hide them under the beds of people that you don't like and then scare them when they try to sleep.

Wouldn't that be awesome?

I was currently laying on my bed stairing up at the faded white ceiling. my eyes focused on that one smudge in the upper right hand corner that drove me crazy.

The walls are supposed to be white can't they just bloody stay white. Why does there need to be an awkward brown splodge?

My curtains hung wonkily over my window, one hanging slightly longer than the other one and the light streamed in all wrong.

Everything about this room was wrong.

The smell of vanish from scrubbing away excess blood and the peeling paint from everytime they have been dampened.

I hate it.

Fuck these days I manage to hate everything.

Apart from that green eyed prince that haunts my every thought, shadowing my every move and clouding my reality.

I think I like the hold that he has over me.

I like the way his hair sometimes falls into his eyes and he has to move it back into place. the way he bites his lip without realising it. the way his shirt rides up when he helps random girls getting down from trees.

I like the way his arms feel wrapped around me.

And mostly I like the way his lips feel when they are moving against mine.

"Laura" my mother called up the stairs,

"Yes mum?"

"I need you"

I quickly ran down the stairs expecting the worst bit all I saw was my mothers blonde hair in a ponytail as she tried to tie her apron behind her back.

"Can you tie it please?" He asked, well sort of demanded.

"Sure, whatcha up to?" I lazily asked.

"Cleaning, your father h- "

I interrupted "He works very hard and should be rewarded by a nice clean home where he can relax"

"Right"

"Laura I need you to polish the house, then I need all of the toilets cleaned, dinner made and ready for the oven, clothes washed, dried and put away"

I nodded my head solemnly.

"You have 2 hours until he gets home"

My little punk rock heart sank.

"But- "

"No buts you will do as I say or you know how your father likes to keep his discipline" she muttered clearly distressed by it.

She knows he shouts and the punching and the kicking an the slapping.

Well you know what they say.

Ignorance is bliss.