GOLDEN (harry styles)

je vis pour toi, je désire pour toi

(25/12/17)

I wake up with a lining of sweat covering my forehead from the boiling temperature. It's definitely a typical Australia summer, put it that way. The highs of 35℃ and the lows of 29℃ have created a distraction from thinking about Harry, no matter how awful both options are. It's either think too long about the fact that the person I love the most in this world is approximately 17,000 miles away, or fixate on the sad reality that the aircon decided to break two days before the hottest week of the year.

I mean, it's also quite sad that I'm 20 and still live with my parents, but I'm going to ignore that for now until I find the will to leave the safe, rent-free space.

The annoyance at the aircon is only temporary however, my plots for it's further murder coming to an abrupt end when I realise what day it is.

It's Christmas.

A newfound excitement for the no doubt sweaty, but joy filled day bounds into my heart, making me surge out of bed, decide against wearing slippers, and thud noisily downstairs to the living room. The first thing I see is the raring green tree, so tall that it tickles the roof.

My mum was adamant this year about getting a real tree. This is mainly because dad accidentally broke the artificial one last year by using a branch as a cricket bat. That tree had lasted us all of Eddy's childhood, and beginning of man-childhood, and lived through countless tantrums, fights, and falls, yet could not survive a game of cricket. Quite pathetic, really.

We should really evaluate our cricket skills.

The new tree is filled with bright life, and is adorned from head to toe in rainbow Christmas baubles. Mum decided this year that she was going to retire from decorating the tree, so Willa, Penelope and I did it instead. It's safe to say that the outcome was not at all what our parents expected. We gathered as many rainbow ornaments as possible, from pride flags to unicorns to strange flip-flops. I love it. It brings a new colour to the dull red and green of Christmas.

A collection of silver and gold wrapped gifts are nestled comfortably under the lower leaves, hidden very poorly. I see the rectangular box that I wrapped for Penelope, and the little sphere that will belong to Eddy in a few hours. I felt a tiny bit bad only getting him a cricket ball, but it was on his list.

It was nice actually having some money to use on gifts this year. Thanks to the tour, I had a surprisingly good income for three months. I put most of it into what used to be my university fund, but is now an apartment/holiday fund. That way I can actually put it towards something important, instead of blowing every last cent on clothes that I don't really need.

I'm so excited for today. The sun is shining wonderfully outside, rays bursting through the windows into the living room. My mum already has a cup of coffee resting in his hands, eyes fixated on the latest edition of Women's Weekly, and my dad seems to have fallen back into a doze on the couch.

I think Penelope is still asleep, because I can only see Willa, Emilie and Eddy about to have a fight over who makes the best French toast in the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas!" I shout from the top of the stairs, grinning as widely as possible.

"Merry Christmas!" Willa yells, leaving the semi-argument and running over to me.

A few milli-seconds later I'm barged into by her loving arms, wrestling me into a not-so-gentle hug. I laugh in a weird choking way as my voice gets muffled under her giggling. Soon enough, Eddy has jumped on top of us, bringing us to the floor. We all dissolve into a fit of laughter, clutching our stomachs somehow as we lay on the timber in our pajamas, legs and arms everywhere.