seraphic [h.s]

chapter twenty three.

I was trying to sleep.

I was trying to sleep, and I couldn't.

The key purpose of trying, was because somebody's god awful music was reverberating from the walls. Bouncing around as if I weren't in the most comfortable position and on the brink of unconsciousness.

But sleep did not want a bar of me yet.

I huffed again, as if the last three times I'd done it weren't enthusiastic enough.

It was well into the early hours of the morning. Somehow we had made our way back home from the party, sneaking back inside only to find out my parents weren't even home. I thought it was strange, and definitely a little weird, though I welcomed the situation with open arms. It was soon after, that Leon, Jett and Evie had resided into the outside room to continue their alcohol consumption. And I was close to joining them, I truly was. But the thought of waking up with a belly of sloshing liquids screaming to rise up turned me away very quickly.

It was all or nothing.

So I decided, like the sensible woman I was, that the bed calling my name sounded much too enticing to resist. I had yanked some shorts on, slipped the hardwire of my bra off and eased myself into a singlet top. I was finally comfortable. And tired. And yet the mischievous man across the hallway would not let me rest.

"Shut up Harry!" I yelled, hoping he could hear with my door open the tiniest bit. I knew that he couldn't. Because the drumming sound had not eased and my patience was only getting thinner. It reminded me of the times my family and I had been on vacation and forced to all stay in the one room. The sound of my fathers snoring so distinct and horrifyingly haunting that I would cry myself to sleep over the repetitive sound.

Grabbing the pillow beside me, I smushed it onto my face, "Why? Why me? All the damn time." I groaned, scrunching my face into its softness as if that would help block out the sound. Though suddenly, it grew louder and more insufferable by the second. "Oh for fucks sake." I spat, whipping the covers away from my body and marching my way out into open corridor, hearing my bedroom door close behind me. I went straight for the end, scoffing as I noticed the door to the spare bedroom was closed.

Closed and yet he still managed to make it sound that loud.

"Harry!" I shouted over the music, banging my fist on his door. Hoping by some miracle that he had the decency to stop. Though still, he went on. And so I knocked harder this time, to the point where I felt a sharp pain run through the side of my hand, "Jesus, ouch. That- fuck." I grunted, cupping my hand with the other and holding it by my stomach.

Clearly, he wasn't listening. And as much as I hated anybody who would just storm into my room unannounced. I thought I did a pretty good job at trying to announce myself, to which he chose to ignore. Sticking out my hand, I twisted the doorknob and swung it open, hearing it bounce harshly against its stopper as I cringed knowing just how much my father hated that.

But there he was, bent over the desk in the corner, bare muscular back facing me and his hand writing ferociously in a small book. Right beside him lay the culprit, such a tiny little radio playing agonisingly loud tunes. "Harry." I spat, a hand on my hip to show how serious I was, except I was sure the messy hair and sleep deprived eyes did that all on their own. My voice wasn't low and somehow he still hadn't heard me, unless he was picking his battles and this, was something he was ready to play with.

I stalked over towards him, standing right behind him as I folded my arms across my chest. "I'm naked." I tried, testing to see if his selected ability to hear were true. Within an instant he swung around on the swivel chair, "Huh?" He questioned with innocence, watching me up and down.