amaranthine ⋒ h.s

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑵

(CHAPTER SEVENTEEN)

CHARLIE pretty much passed out when we got back to my place. He was drunk and irritable for some reason. It's not like I'm the one ruining everything. That would be him.

I got him water, I got him pain medicine even though he really upset me at dinner. He didn't know he did, of course, but I'm still being rather nice to him even though he's breaking my heart piece by fucking piece. And besides that, I'm fucking frustrated for other reasons. I need sex.

I'm young. I should be having sex like a machine. Not like a middle aged mom whose husband is away on business every other week.

But, you can't always get what you want and I know that. That's why I sit here and think of anything, but what's going on in my pants. I think about the most unexciting things I can think of. Like taxes. Grocery lists. Mundane things like that.

So, I left Charlie at my place because he was still asleep by the time I had to get up for work. I rolled my eyes at him before I left though, even though he'd never know that I did.

"Holly, we heard about your grandmother and we thought we'd all pitch in and buy you some flowers." I turned and saw Janice with a crowd of my coworkers who all had sympathetic expressions. Fuck.

"Oh. Oh, it's really okay. She's, uh, in a better place." I tried to smile at them. Wow, this is terrible.

"Oh, come here. You just look so heartbroken." Sharon, one of the older ladies, hugged me to death and everyone else just muttered a collective 'sorry for your loss.' Harry is an awful person. Truly.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it." Then they handed me a huge box of chocolates and I was almost in real tears. Aw. These bitches really care, huh? Monica, another one of the older ladies, started sobbing. For no reason other than she felt bad for me. I tried to be sincere and pat her on the back a couple of times, but at this point, it's just ridiculous. Their last gift for me was a card saying they were thinking of me. How nice. I've never really had anyone I was close to die—I still haven't technically—so I have no idea how it goes. If this is how people act then my Aunt Wilma might die in a few weeks too.

Once they all left me alone, I was getting my phone out and texting Harry.

Holly: My coworkers just brought me flowers and shit because of Grandma Emily. You fucker :))

I put my phone aside and got back to work. His reply can wait. It sure can.

Five seconds later, I found myself looking at my phone anyway. He hasn't replied yet. Calm down, Holly. I'll check after work. I can't be that thirsty all the time. Fuck. I need to worry about . . . bills and deadlines at work and . . . well, that's pretty much it. Harry does take up quite a lot of worry space in my head and I'm not sure why.

As soon as my phone buzzed, I was looking at it.

Harry: You're welcome.

Harry: I am entitled to at least half of the goods, so see you after work, baby x.

Cute.

So, now that he's decided that he's going to see me later, I have to get out of these ugly, drab clothes and put something better on. No idea why, I just feel like it. It seems as though we're going to be at my house and that's fine with me. I want to crawl in bed and I'm not sure that Harry would let me sleep in his bed. Probably not. He's mean like that.

After work, I decided not to be a thirsty bitch and text Harry to come over to mine. He knows what time I get off work. He can put in a little bit of effort. It's always me asking to hang out and it makes me look weird. It's a two way street. If he wants to be here, he'll make an effort. If he doesn't, I'm sure I'll end up at his door asking him why.