Ivy || H.S

Ch.3 chaos

^this is ivy's outfit for this chapter

*enjoy:)
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day of the robbery

Ivy Tomlinson

My Eyes snap open. I'm covered in a cold sweat, shaking, my hearts pounding out of my chest. I'm trying to control my heavy breathing.

I...

...Breath in.

One

Two

Breath out.

One

Two

Finally getting my normal breathing, I start thinking about how I haven't had a nightmare like that since Louis left.

I look around the room, suspicious and paranoid that the nightmare may have followed me into reality.

I get up cautiously, shivering as I rub my head and eyes to fully be awake. Stumbling into the bathroom, I finally check my phone only to see it's four a.m. 'Shit. I never get enough sleep.' I thought to myself as I started getting ready for a shower.

The water pours down, dripping by my side, as my mind fades into dullness and everything becomes a foggy illusion. The sensation of the steamy water calms me; it takes my mind off things. All the things I honestly don't care about.

It's the water. My mind swirls, and it's like I'm standing under a waterfall. Ever so beautiful, but it can never last, I know that now. Nothing ever lasts or stays.

Stepping over the bathtub my feet hit the cold tile. 'Need slippers' I add to my mental list of stuff I need after going to the bank.

Opening my suitcase, I automatically go for Louis' green flannel I found in his room to wear out today. Paring it with a basic white t-shirt, and high waisted jeans.

Slipping on my tennis shoes I gather all the American cash and check the time: six a.m. "Shit I took a two hour shower." I said, groaning just thinking about the water bill.

Taking the elevator down to the first floor I decided to try the coffee shop across the street since I woke up so early.

The tiny coffee shop is huddled despondent among the huge city buildings. Washed out under the gloomy sky. People rushed by it outside on the crowded street.

The half a dozen customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of cold wind. Unlike the outside, the interior of the café was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colourful walls. The customers returned to their conversations as the door swung closed behind me and the cold breeze was forgotten.

Walking up to the counter I'm tempted to get a caramel frappuccino, even though Louis would bicker at me every time I got one, saying "those are meant for 12 year olds Ivy."

The barista clearing her throat brought me out of memory lane. Quite embarrassed, I give her a tired smile with a mumbled apology of "Sorry just tired."

After ordering a white mocha latte I take a seat at a window table so I can people watch while I drink.

Finishing the last sip of the latte I began to search my phone for the closest bank, but quickly changed my mind when I realized I can just ask someone for directions.

Walking out the cold air hits me, making me shiver. Standing on the sidewalk, I look to my right and see a blonde boy on his phone. 'Perfect' I thought.

"Excuse me," I say timidly, remembering all the rumors of how New Yorkers aren't friendly.

"What?" the blonde boy says with a thick Irish accent not even looking up from his phone.