Lucky Penny [h.s.]

14.

TW: abuse and sexual assault (unwanted intimate touching)

Penelope.

"I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 22!" I sang into the back of my hairbrush, standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom as I performed a little dance routine.

I jumped around, "Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you!!"

I had just showered, it being around three thirty in the afternoon. I had spent a few hours at the office today, getting everything ready to get back into full work-mode on Monday.

Upon my arrival home, I had spilled a full cup of coffee all over myself, prompting me to shower immediately. I had just enough time to get changed into regular clothes again before meeting Harry at Steve's.

After moisturizing my body, I had put on pyjama shorts and a tank top while I blow dried my hair, getting the coffee stench out of it after the liquid had splashed over the lengths of my hair that had hung over my shoulders.

I was in an outstanding mood. The work I had done today had gone great, and Carlo was happy with my performance. He had been in a great mood all week after we had received mainly positive feedback after fashion week.

Some major fashion magazines still had to give their opinions on it, which would most likely only be published once October rolled in and there'd be a new Vogue issue. He had reluctantly been planning the huge office party for then, hoping the feedback would be positive and we'd actually have something to celebrate.

Next up was the Met Gala, which was next week in New York City. I of course wasn't going to be there, but we had been sending the final samples to the New York office for the celebrities Vivienne Westwood was dressing.

Among our clientele this year was Kim Kardashian and Dua Lipa, which was honestly just insane. I remembered nearly getting a heart attack when I saw the email from Dua Lipa's management a few months ago, to start discussing the Met Gala look for her.

I whistled along to the Taylor Swift song that had been stuck in my head all day, but gasped in a sharp breath, dropping my towel when I entered my bedroom.

I wasn't prepared for the person sitting down on my bed, my phone in his hands. His eyes flicked up when he heard me come in, and he shot me that million dollar smile that was just as charming as it was manipulative.

"P-Patrick? What... What are you doing here?" I stood frozen in the doorway, my muscles tensed in anticipation as I watched him carefully. My heart was thumping violently in my chest from pure anxiety, and I hated that seeing him caused this reaction.

I found it hard to admit to myself that I had been feeling so much better about myself ever since breaking up with Patrick, and it just came down to it that he was usually the reason for my terrible moods. He was usually the reason for my panic attacks, for my spontaneous crying sessions in my car, for my sleepless nights and my migraines.

Just having him in this room with me, shifted my energy completely and I felt small and scared immediately.

He was dressed casually, just jeans and a T-shirt as he sat down on the edge of my bed as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

The silence in my bedroom felt deafening, and I felt very uncomfortable being in his presence these days. My heart was beating overtime as I tried to handle the amount of shock I had felt seeing him here.

"Hey Penny." He rasped back and I drew a sharp breath, "What are you doing here?" I repeated.

My eyes flicked to my phone in his hand, and I swallowed thickly, "What are you doing with my phone?"